Page 41 of Watch Me, Daddy

“Aidan has made sure of it,” she said softly, her blush deepening a bit in color.

“I’m sure he has,” Maxim replied, and I tried to read between the lines. As I was questioning myself, he locked his gaze on me, and it hardened substantially with tense expectation. The room seemed charged with unsaid words.

The weight of the unspoken truth hung heavy in the air—heknew, and I knew that he knew.

But as the seconds ticked by, a fragile equilibrium held, a delicate balance teetering on the precipice of revelation.

He didn’t confirm it, but he didn’t need to. He knew that I’d fucked his daughter.

“Have you eaten yet? Why don’t you sit down and join us. There’s more than enough for all three of us,” I offered, dancing around the truth as if it didn’t exist.

He slipped into the seat next to his daughter and across from me with a curt nod.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he replied.

CHAPTER13

Irina

Oh fuck.

When my father had walked into the kitchen, my heart had stopped cold. It felt like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over my head and doused the heat within me in mere seconds.

Shock and relief coursed through me in equal measure. My relationship with my father had always been complex—a blend of love, protection, and the weight of his watchful gaze. He’d always been exceedingly protective of me, ever since I was a baby and my mother died giving birth to me. He’d shielded me from danger so thoroughly that sometimes I felt like I’d seen nothing of the world. Since her death, he had been both mother and father to me, a role he took on with fierce, unwavering loyalty and determination.

Seeing him standing there, his gaze fixed on me, brought back a rush of memories from my childhood. The way he had shielded me from the world, his strong arms always there to catch me when I stumbled. But now, as I looked at him, I couldn’t help but feel a nervous knot tighten in my stomach.

What happened between Aidan and I hung between us like a fragile thread. I wanted to believe that my father’s love would prevail, that he would understand the depths of my feelings for Aidan, but the fear of his anger, of the potential consequences, gnawed at the edges of my worries.

I stood there, my eyes locked with my father’s, a torrent of emotions swirling within me. Relief at his presence mixed with apprehension about what his arrival meant for Aidan and me. What would he do? Would he have him killed? Would he start a war with the Murphys over me? Would he even find out?

I squirmed the slightest bit in my chair, exceedingly aware of my nakedness beneath the rough fabric of my jeans.

I watched as Aidan gracefully moved around the kitchen, serving my father a plate of the hearty breakfast he had prepared. The sizzling aroma of pancakes, eggs, and bacon filled the air, but my appetite seemed to have vanished, replaced by a knot of nervous energy. Aidan’s confident demeanor contrasted with the turmoil inside me, and I found myself picking at my own plate, my hunger having dissipated under the weight of the situation.

My father’s gaze shifted briefly to me, and I offered him a tentative smile, attempting to mask the unease that had settled over me. It was a familiar dance—my attempts to keep the peace, to maintain the delicate balance between my father’s expectations and my own desires. But now, with Aidan by my side, that balance felt more precarious than ever.

Did he know that Aidan had fucked me last night, that he’d been the man to take my virginity instead of some carefully planned, arranged marriage that our world was chalk full of?

I knew it was a well-established tradition to use an arranged marriage to build and solidify an alliance between families, and I didn’t yet know if that was something Aidan wanted. I didn’t even know what we were. Was I just a one-night stand to him, a temptation he’d given into once and for all to see what I was like? What if once was enough for him? What if he never wanted to be with me again after this?

Locked in a battle of questions, I picked at my food while Aidan and Maxim talked about the situation with the Kozlovs. There had been additional bombings, but they were all over the city. There was no rhyme or reason to their attacks. I listened enough to get the gist of the story, but I was too caught up in my own head to catch all of the details.

I’d lost my virginity last night, and my dad was sitting at the same table as the man who taken it.

I couldn’t help but feel a rush of embarrassment as I sat at the table, my cheeks warming with a heated blush. The conversation between my father and Aidan seemed to ebb and flow around the Kozlovs, their words a distant murmur as I focused on the intricate patterns of the curtains. I knew that my father’s scrutiny was not only directed at Aidan but also at me, and the weight of his unspoken questions made my heart race.

I hoped he wouldn’t figure it out.

“Irina,” my father said, and I stiffened, startled by the directness in his voice. “I wanted to apologize to you about the manner of your kidnapping. The Murphys and I thought it best if you didn’t know, just so that you wouldn’t accidentally tip off the Kozlovs that we were coming to take you. I hope you can forgive me,” he added.

“I understand. Anton wasn’t a kind man,” I answered, a bit taken aback to be included in the conversation all of a sudden.

“Are you eating enough? “ My father’s voice held a mix of concern and authority as he peered at my half-finished plate. I glanced at Aidan, who was busy cutting his pancakes with an intense focus.

“Yes, father, I am. Aidan’s been feeding me well. He’s rather talented in the kitchen.”

“And is he treating you with respect, Irina?” Maxim raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering between us. I couldn’t help but smirk, the lightness of his playful scrutiny making me feel more at ease. Maybe he didn’t know after all, and he just wanted to make sure I was alright after being kidnapped by a man he didn’t know.

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