Page 4 of Kneeling for Daddy
“He’s not wrong,” Cillian laments. “He’s got us by the balls.”
I round on him. “Don’t youdaretell me marrying her is agood idea.”
“I’m not saying it’s a good idea. I’m saying it might be theonlyidea,” he retorts.
Of course it is.
Eavan steps into the kitchen, her voice cautious as her gaze wanders between the three of us. “What the hell just happened?”
I sigh through my teeth. “Apparently, I’m getting married.”
“Congratulations!” Madison snorts.
Fucking brat.
“That’s not funny.” I shoot her a withering glare and rake my fingers through my hair. “We are so fucked.”
Iam so fucked.
“Miss Sargsyan, we’ll be starting our descent into Teterboro shortly. Please fasten your seatbelt.” The captain’s crisp but impersonal voice crackles through the cabin speakers. I don’t need to follow his instruction. My seat belt has been cutting into my lap for the last fourteen hours.
The private jet hums around me, a sterile bubble of cream leather, polished wood, and too-perfect silence. Normally, I wouldn’t complain about this kind of travel—God knows I’ve taken enough flights in my life to appreciate not being crammed into coach—but right now, my mind is too loud to enjoy it.
Alek had a couple of his goons wake me and shove me onto this plane before sunrise without so much as an explanation. Much like our father, he’s never asked me to travel with him for business trips. After all, I’m just a poor, helpless woman. I’m not supposed to be involved with things like that. It’s usually,Stay in Yerevan, Ani. Stay out of trouble, Ani.It’s never,Drop everything and get your fucking ass to New York, Ani.
The stewardess glides by with a polite smile, collecting my empty champagne flute. I hand it to her, leaning back against the seat and watching the clouds smear past the oval window. It’s not like Alek gave me a reason either, just a gruff message through the cell phone of one of my security guys at three in the morning:Pack for at least two weeks. The plane will be ready for you in an hour.
Like the somewhat obedient girl I am, I threw a couple of bags together, got in the car, and boarded the plane. And now, here I am… halfway across the world, wondering what the fuck was so urgent and if I should’ve put up a fight to stay in Armenia.
The plane dips slightly, my stomach following the movement.Teterboro. I’ve flown through it before—to use my father's black card on Fifth Avenue. It’s a private and discreet airfield. My powder-pink nails drum anxiously against the armrest as we make the descent.
I hate not knowing what is going on.
The landing is smooth. We taxi for what feels like forever before the engines finally wind down. As ridiculous as it is, my pulse spikes as the stewardess preps for deboarding. I’m blindly stepping into whatever plan Alek has concocted, and I have no idea if it’s a mess I want to be part of.
The door opens, warm August air spilling into the cool plane. The stairs gleam under the moonlight, and waiting at the bottom is exactly what I expected: a black SUV with tinted windows so dark they might as well be painted. A man in a tailored black suit slides from the front seat; his movements are precise. He opens the back door first—and there he is.Alek.Sitting there like a smug bastard, scrolling on his phone as if he’s been waiting here impatiently for hours.
The suited man turns back to me, quickly closes the distance between us, and offers a steadying hand as I step onto the tarmac. I take it, mostly so I don’t twist an ankle in these heels. He guides me into the SUV, shutting the door behind me with a softthunkbefore going back to the plane to grab my bags.
I barely get settled before I turn on my brother. “Alek,” I huff, pulling my seatbelt across my lap. “I did it. I got on a plane. I flew halfway around the damn world. Are you going to tell me what the hell I’m doing herenow?”
“In due time, little sister,” he dismisses, not even looking up from his phone. His voice is calm, like he’s ordering a coffee, not yanking me out of my life without explanation.
“Little?” I scoff.We share a fucking birthday.I glare at him for a solid five seconds before slumping in my seat, crossing my legs with exaggerated precision. Fine. He wants to play crypticolderbrother, I’ll play resentful younger sister.
Fuck. I hate the seventeen minutes he holds over my head.
The SUV eases away from the tarmac, merging onto a private road that spills onto the highway. My eyes follow the blur of concrete and green until the surroundings turn industrial, then metallic, then dark as we enter a long tunnel. The walls seem to press closer, the low hum of tires on asphalt growing louder. My chest tightens, and I struggle through shallow breaths in the claustrophobic space, focusing on the pinprick of light in the distance.
When we burst out the other side, it’s like stepping into another world. Skyscrapers stretch into the sky, glass and steel stabbing upward. New York City. A sprawling, pulsing machine that never sleeps. I’ve been here before, but right now it feels… different.
We weave through traffic until the car slows, pulling into a valet lane lined with marble columns and gold accents. The Waldorf Astoria.Of course.Alek never half-asses anything.
The valet opens my door before the car even stops completely, offering his hand like he’s welcoming royalty. I step out, smoothing down the skirt of my pastel pink dress. The air smells faintly of exhaust, perfume, and the rich tobacco of a man smoking a cigar nearby.
I’m hit with a rush of warm scents when we step into the lobby—polished wood, fresh flowers, and the intoxicating aroma of luxury. Chandeliers the size of small planets hang overhead, scattering light across marble floors veined in gold. A grand staircase curves upward like something from a movie, while discreetly dressed staff glide between guests as if they’re choreographed.
I glance at Alek. He’s walking like he owns the place.Typical.I match his pace, heels clicking against marble as we head for the elevators. My stomach is still tight. My mind refuses to let go of the question burning through me:What the hell is going on?
