Page 33 of Cinderella and the Daddy
When Leo's breathing evens out in sleep, I carefully extract myself from the bed and slip past Luka into the hallway. He follows, his footsteps silent behind me.
"Thank you," he says when we're out of earshot.
The words stop me cold. I turn to face him, anger flaring hot and sudden in my chest. "Don't." The word comes out sharper than intended. "Don't thank me for doing what your men can't.”
He frowns. “I don’t understand.”
“Love him. They protect him, and I will too, but I love him. I love that little boy, Luka. You have to decide what you’re doing with me because this… this is going to hurt. Not just me. Him. Kill me. Give me back.”
Keep me.
His eyes flash, something dangerous sparking there.
"That boy in there needs more than protection and training and whatever else you think constitutes care. He needs someone who gives a damn about more than just keeping him alive."
The air between us crackles with tension. Luka takes a step closer.
I’ve gone too far.
I have no business telling him how to raise this child he has somehow found to be in his care.
"You think you know what he needs?" His voice is low, almost a whisper.
"I know what every child needs. Love. Stability. Someone who isn't afraid to be vulnerable with them."
"Vulnerable." He spits the word like it tastes bitter. "Vulnerability is a luxury I can't afford."
"It's not a luxury," I fire back. "It's what makes us human."
He's closer now, close enough that I can feel his breath laced with liquor washing over me. My back hits the wall with a soft thud. Suddenly, he's there, caging me in with his body.
I swallow.
The last time, he had me pushed me up against a wall in a hallway and fucked me until I saw stars.
He leans in. His nose is close to mine. His lips don’t touch mine, but they’re right there. I can feel his chest rising and falling, brushing against my breasts. I realize he’s fighting for control.
This could be very, very bad for me.
I’ve pushed him too far.
“Fuck me or kill me,” I murmur.
He leans in, his face buried in the crook of my neck, and just... breathes. His hands are pressed against the door on either side of my head, his body a cage of heat and tension.
"You're going to ruin me," he whispers against my skin.
The words are so quiet I almost miss them.
My heart hammers against my ribs. This is it—the moment that's been building since he last touched me. The tension that's been coiling tighter and tighter every time we're in the same room.
But something is wrong. The world tilts slightly, my vision swimming at the edges. I blink hard, trying to focus, but the dizziness only intensifies.
"I..." I start to say, but the words feel thick on my tongue.
Luka pulls back immediately, his eyes sharp with concern. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I lie, pressing a hand to my forehead. "Just tired."
