Page 44 of Watch Me, Daddy

I chewed my lip as the two walked back to the cabin, talking softly between each other as if the tension I’d just seen sparking between them had never existed. It was like they had come to an understanding, and by the time they reached the door, my father shook Aidan’s hand again and walked off.

He wasn’t coming back inside. Aidan walked in alone.

I couldn’t help but search his gaze for answers, for some sign of what had transpired between him and my father by the lake shore. But his eyes remained inscrutable, a stormy sea of emotions that I couldn’t decipher. It was as if a chasm had opened up between us, and I was left teetering on the edge, desperate for some glimpse into his thoughts.

My heart raced as I watched him, my mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. What had my father proposed? What had Aidan agreed to?

“Aidan?” I asked tentatively.

“Irina,” he murmured softly.

“What happened?”

“Come. Take a walk with me,” he smiled, his eyes hinting at something only he knew. I swallowed hard, trying to figure out what had happened and coming up with nothing. I chewed my lip nervously, unsure of what to do.

Without a word, Aidan extended his hand towards me, his fingers an invitation to follow. I hesitated for a moment, my mind a whirlwind of possibilities and uncertainties, but as I met his gaze, a flicker of something in his eyes—determination, reassurance, or maybe a promise—pushed me to take his hand. Silently, he led me outside, the cool breeze of the morning brushing against our skin like a welcoming greeting.

Aidan’s grip on my hand was steady, a lifeline in the midst of my swirling thoughts as he led me along the lake shore.

As we walked, the lake’s edge curved inward, revealing a secluded alcove nestled amidst a cluster of trees. A wooden bench stood there, weathered by time and the elements, but sturdy. The branches of the surrounding trees formed a natural canopy, dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves and casting dancing shadows on the ground.

Aidan took a seat on the bench, and I joined him. His voice broke the silence.

“He came to discuss us, Irina,” Aidan began, his voice tinged with a mixture of seriousness and vulnerability. “Your father had suspicions about our relationship, and he confirmed them through one of my guards. He offered us a choice—a marriage that could forge a pact between our families and ensure our safety, or war between our families.”

I absorbed his words, my heart pounding in my chest. The implications of his revelation hung heavy in the air. His gaze met mine, his eyes holding a complex blend of emotions, and I couldn’t get a read on him. What had they decided? Did he want this?

“Irina, I agreed to his terms. We’re to be married,” he explained, his words echoing with a mixture of resolve and a hint of something more.

As I took in the full meaning of his words, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of conflicting emotions, and a pout formed on my lips. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry him, but the way he framed it, as if it were solely a product of mafia tradition and not a choice driven by genuine desire, stung far more than I cared to admit.

I grappled with that hurt for a long moment.

Then, I felt a tinge of frustration that he hadn’t just said that he wanted this as much as I did, and my insecurities ran wild. It wasn’t just about forging alliances or securing safety; it was about the two of us. But what if there wasn’t even anusto begin with?

What if last night had just been that—a single night of passion, and that was it?

I wanted him to tell me that there was more to us than the intricate web of our families’ politics and the responsibilities of the dangerous world we lived in. I wanted to know if he even wanted me to begin with.

I let out a small sigh.

“You know, you could have just asked to marry me,” I blurted out, unable to keep my voice from revealing the annoyances rampaging inside of me. “All this mafia business aside, I might have said yes anyway.”

I lifted my chin and swallowed back a huff.

His eyes softened as my words hung in the air, and a faint smile played at the corners of his lips. Without another word, Aidan closed the gap between us, his lips meeting mine in a tender yet fervent kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of passion, and of something much more.

It inspired hope within me.

As the kiss deepened, he pulled me into his lap, his arms enveloping me in a cocoon of warmth and security. With a gentle touch, he lifted my chin, breaking the kiss but keeping our faces just inches apart. I found myself captivated by the intensity in his gaze, by the way his eyes searched mine as if trying to decipher every thought that raced through my mind, and I found that I couldn’t look away.

“I know a secret,” he whispered, his eyes dancing with mischief as he leaned in close. His lips brushed against my ear, and his warm breath sent shivers down my spine. He kissed my cheek gently. “You’re not pouty because you weren’t asked to marry me, princess. You’re pouty because I made it sound like this was your father’s decision and not mine,” he said simply, and I could do nothing but sit there surrounded by him as the heat rose to my face.

How the hell had he known that?

“But it’s more than just that, isn’t it?” he asked, a single eyebrow lifting as he watched me, and I couldn’t help but feel small under his scrutiny.

I turned away, gazing at the lake as if its depths could hide my feelings and keep them secret forever. I didn’t answer, not wanting to give away anything else. He’d made this decision without me, not even caring to ask how I felt or if I even wanted to marry him in the first place. What if I didn’t? Did it even matter?

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