Page 3 of Sugar Baby
She beams, pleased with the compliment. “Are you looking forward to tomorrow? Wanda is so excited you’re going. Lola too. You girls haven’t seen each other in an age.”
“Yeah, I am, actually. It’ll be nice to see Lola.” She is Wanda’s daughter and my age. Wanda is my mum’s best friend.
“I wish I could go with you, but your father insisted I accompany him on his outing.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind.” I really don’t. I love my mum’s company, but this is an opportunity to get the ride from Nico I missed out on yesterday. I can’t exactly do that with my mother hovering over me.
“Oh, my lovely,” she says, her Italian accent going more pronounced with her emotions. She stands up and places her hands on my shoulders. “You are such a beautiful girl. So full of life, but a dove with clipped wings.”
Tears prick my eyes in surprise. I wasn’t expecting that. “I’m okay.”
She sighs and removes her hands from me. “Soon, you will be free to fly,” she says mysteriously and waves her hand to dismiss the topic that she clearly wasn’t supposed to mention to me. I want to jump on it, but she moves swiftly on. “There is a change of plans for tomorrow.”
“What do you mean about free to fly? And what change?” I bark out, standing up. “I thought it was all sorted that I was going.” If Daddy takes this away from me now, I will throw myself in the lake in protest.
Not that it makes much difference. I’m a star swimmer. Maybe a threat to throw myself off the roof of the compound's security tower. I cannot fly, not even a little bit.
She ignores my first question, as expected and sighs. “You are still going, Sugar. But Daddy has asked that you be escorted. He has had word of something going on in the city tomorrow. He wants you extra safe. Actually, he wanted to stop you from going, but I said, ‘No way, Aidy. She is going, and that’s final’.” She slams her fist into her palm and gives me a bright smile, but it’s a bit forced.
“Escorted by whom?” I ask darkly. I swear to God, if Daddy is trying to set me up with some gross alpha, and this is his way of pushing him on me, I will boycott.
“Cain,” Mum says lightly, avoiding my stare. “He is very good at his job.”
“Cain?” I spit out, infuriated. “He is a pig!”
Okay, now my slightly lilting, soft, half Irish, half Italian accent has turned with my emotions, and now I sound more like my mother. My hands have also gone flying in a dramatic gesture. She grabs them and kisses them.
“He is a good protector. And that is what your father requires of him tomorrow,” she states with absolute finality. I have a sneaky suspicion that this request came fromherand not my father.
“Grrr.” I growl at her, and she chuckles at my poor attempt, but I’m not happy. Cain likes to dip his wick. I’ve seen the skanks he takes up to the lake. I have little else to do with my time but to watch and learn. It’s why I know something shady is going down tomorrow that my father, and possibly now my mother, is involved in.
Unfortunately, I have two options. Allow Cain to escort me tomorrow, or not go. I know better than to fight both of my parents, and it’s obvious my mother is adamant. Not going is cutting my nose off to spite my face. Just because Cain is a man-whore, doesn’t mean he will get into my knickers.
“Fine,” I grouse, knowing I’m defeated.
“Good girl,” she purrs and strokes my hair.
It’s soothing, and it’s meant to be a distraction. But I don’t care. I let it wash over me, and it calms me.
“I’m going to go for a swim in the pool,” I murmur.
“Good idea,” she agrees. “I will see you at dinner.”
I nod as she leaves, and strip off my stretchy pink jersey dress and underwear. I pull my black bikini out of the dresser's top drawer and slip it on, grabbing my pool towel on the way out of my bedroom.
Our quarters are at the back of the main compound building. It consists of a living room, four bedrooms, my dad’s office, a dining room and a kitchen, plus three bathrooms and my favourite place, the indoor swimming pool. It is a fair size, big enough to swim laps in and feel like you’ve had a workout. I place my towel at the shallow end and walk around to the deep end to dive in.
The cool water rushes over my skin, invigorating me, and making me feel alive. I start to swim laps.
Five. Ten. Twenty.
At thirty-one, I stop and stand up in the shallow end, pushing my wet hair out of my face and wiping the water from my eyes. Placing my hands on the side of the pool, I haul my body out of the water and reach for my towel.
“Sophia.”
I jump a mile when a man’s rough voice says my name.
I turn, flicking water out of my hair and into the speaker’s face.
