Tyrant Daddy: An Age Gap Forbidden Romance

by Isabella Starling

  "Dove Canterbury," she smiles innocently. "Oh, I suppose it's Dove Miller now. Do you remember her?"

  She doesn't need to ask me, the answer is written all over my face. Of-fucking-course I remember Dove – she's the one that smashed my heart into a million pieces. But the pain I anticipate every time I think of her doesn't come this time. I feel strangely numb at the thought of seeing Dove after all these years.

  "I remember her," I finally answer. "But that won't be a problem in case you're worried about keeping this business arrangement under wraps for your friends."

  "You sure about that?" Elise narrows her eyes at me. "As far as I can remember, you were infatuated with Dove. I don't want anyone to suspect our relationship isn't as solid as we make it out to be. Especially not Dove."

  "Yeah, you always hated her, didn't you," I mutter. "Jealous, Elise?"

  She purses her lips just as the car pulls up in front of our venue. I tip the driver and plaster on my fake as fuck happy mask, getting the door for Elise and walking into the architecturally impressive building with our arms linked.

  Surprisingly, I'm not constantly on the lookout for Dove. The benefit is for the homeless people of LA, so it really shouldn't surprise me she would be assisting with it. Frankly, what surprises me more is that they put Elise in charge of the ball instead of Dove.

  Absentmindedly, I find myself wondering whether Dove will come with her shady as fuck husband, Nox. I always hated that bastard. He stole Dove away from me, after all.

  "There's Dove." Elise tugs on my sleeve and nods to the left. "Come on. Let's go say hello."

  I groan. "Why?"

  "Because," she hisses stubbornly before flashing me a winning smile. "I got the man, not her."

  That's hardly true, but at least it makes me fucking feel better as I follow Elise through the crowd and to a dazzling couple in black chatting to a group of animated people.

  It's nice to see Dove Canterbury hasn't given up on her signature color. The darkness embraces her like an old friend. Tonight, she's not hiding her scars – they're plainly visible in the sleeveless, backless dress with a slit running up her thigh.

  Even her criminal of a husband looks alright in an expensively-cut tux and Italian leather shoes. They barely look older than they did when I met them for the first time, and it makes me feel like an old man. There's no trace of silver in Nox's hair and beard. Not like mine.

  "Dove!" Elise taps my old flame on the shoulder and Dove turns around, her lips tightening as Elise air-kisses her. "How wonderful that you came. I have a little surprise for you?"

  "Oh?" Dove smiles uncomfortably, glancing around the room as if looking for a way out.

  "This is my fiancé. I think you know each other?" Elise babbles innocently.

  Dove looks up at me right at the second Nox turns around and wraps his arm possessively around his wife's waist.

  "Hello again," I get out in a low mutter. "Good to see you."

  "Raphael!" I have to give Dove credit – she actually looks excited as she smiles widely at me. "How wonderful to see you after all this time."

  "Likewise," I say, leaning in to kiss her cheek purely out of politeness. But her prick of a husband isn't having it and he shoves me back. "Relax, man."

  "Don't kiss her," Nox says in a growl.

  "Nox," Dove laughs nervously as a couple people turn to look at us. "Relax. It's nothing."

  And just like that, she's reminded me yet again how much I mean to her.

  It's fucking nothing.

  "It's fine," I say in a clipped tone. "I should have known better. Have a pleasant evening."

  "Wait," Dove insists. I'm surprised her husband doesn't growl at the word. "I... We'd love to catch up."

  "Oh, there are Mimi and Kiki," Elise mutters distractedly. "I have to go say hello, darling."

  "Sure," I nod, allowing her to kiss my cheek, leaving a lip print in her wake. She couldn't be more obvious in wanting to impress Dove. The woman from my past and I share a secretive smile before I remember Nox. That motherfucking bastard. "So. Catching up."

  "Yes," she nods enthusiastically, elbowing her husband in the ribs. He glares at her before pulling her in for a deep, seductive kiss that lasts ages. I clear my throat twice and he still won't stop. By the time he lets go of Dove, she's flushed and out of breath. "Anyway. Do you and Elise have children?"

  "No," I laugh. "Far too late for that. And the two of you?"

  "We have three," Nox barks. "A girl and twin boys."

  "How wonderful." We glare at one another before Dove mercifully cuts in.

  "Yes, we are very blessed." An uncomfortable silence follows before Dove nervously jumps in again. "Let me show you some pictures."

  She scrolls past pictures of the twin boys. It's impossible to tell the two apart, and they look just like their father. I brace myself for the sight of Dove's daughter. It will be painful as fuck. Once upon a time, I dreamed of that being our child.

  I'm getting bored of nodding and giving compliments when she scrolls past a photo of a leggy, thin blonde in denim cut off shorts.

  "Wait," I mutter, pointing to her phone. "Who's that?"

  "Oh, this?" Dove scrolls back through her album and opens a shot that is so unmistakably Willa my cock hardens at the mere sight of her. Dove gives Nox a proud smile. "That's Willa on her eighteenth birthday."

  "Willa?" I swallow thickly. I can feel Nox staring at me as Dove keeps going through the photos, blissfully unaware. "But you didn't have a baby eighteen years ago."

  "Yeah, we adopted her," Nox barks at me. "Got a problem with that, fucker?"

  "Jesus, Nox, would you relax?" Dove gives him a warning look but the man is still practically sneering at me. "Raphael, I'm so sorry. We're going to get going."

  "Sure," I manage. "See you around."

  They leave me standing alone in a crowd of faces, though I only see one – a certain leggy, thin blonde in a pair of denim cutoffs.

  Willa.

  My Willa.

  My Willa is... their Willa?

  I'm so beyond fucked.

  I drown my sorrows in booze that night. I force myself to think about accepting Elise's numerous advances when she senses my defenses are down. But I can't bring myself to do it. The thought doesn't even make my dick twitch. That one pretty face is still on my mind, relentlessly haunting me, even in my dreams.

  For a week, I do everything in my power to stop thinking about her, save for fucking someone else.

  I consider calling one of the women in my little black book, perhaps the very one who was with me the night I met Willa, in a sick turn of fate. But I can't. I can't do anything but beat my cock into an unsatisfying orgasm. Every stroke of my fist is for Willa, every shot of cum meant for her holes. I'm a man going insane. Fighting this addiction is going to fucking kill me.

  Now that I have Willa's last name, it's even easier to find her. But I feel sick looking up her history, so I force myself to stop and focus on the profile I've already discovered. And there she is, displayed in full sepia-toned glory, a fake fucking filter plastered over her beautiful face.

  I want to see her without the filters.

  I want to see her in person.

  I want to feel her sweet pink pussy lips parting only for me.

  The decision to call her makes me feel relieved but weak at the same time. It's impressive she managed not to contact me for this long.

  The call rings and rings, but she doesn't pick up. Pissed off, I set my phone down and pace my office overlooking the city. Fucking fuck. She should be on her knees before me, because I want to take this goddamn frustration out on something pretty, and she's the prettiest little thing I've ever seen.

  My phone buzzes on the desk and I make a grab for it.

  Why are you calling me, weirdo? Text pls

  I can't help grinning at her message, my fingers quickly firing off a reply.

  Wanted to hear your voice. I need your pussy, trouble.

  I knew you couldn't
resist. How much?

  I furrow my brows at the last text she's sent. What the fuck? She wants me to keep paying her?

  My internal battle over how wrong this is, ends embarrassingly quickly.

  Double last time.

  Yes, Daddy!

  When?

  Let me surprise you. Pull some late nights at the office this week!

  I think better than to reply and put my phone back down. My heart is hammering and my dick is hard despite just milking it a few hours ago. This girl will be the death of me. I'm too old for this shit.

  At the same time, I can't help but take some sick pleasure in my new-found knowledge that she's the Millers’ daughter. Nox would kill me if he knew, and Dove would be devastated.

  It shouldn't turn me the fuck on, but it does.

  That night is the first of many that I spend late in my office that week. I feed Elise excuse after bullshit excuse and stay up late waiting for trouble. But trouble doesn't come.

  By the eighth day I'm pissed as fuck, especially since I already sent her the cash and I saw the transaction went through. The little bitch cheated me... and I'm going to make her fucking pay.

  Chapter 7

  Willa

  I get a second message from the mystery daddy on the app. It's only a location with a time for today, and an amount of money that makes it impossible to swallow.

  "Fuck," I mutter to myself, pushing my feet off my bed. Who is this guy and why is he so eager to meet me?

  I spend my morning the way I usually do – with Dove, Nox and the boys. Scott and Kellan are adorable, but they're driving me crazy with their antics today. After they prank me by switching the salt and sugar and pouring some into my toothpaste, I've had just about enough of the two rascals.

  "I'm going out later," I tell Dove as she does the dishes.

  "Oh?" Nox embraces her from behind, kissing her cheek. "Where you going?"

  "To meet up with Mercy," I lie smoothly.

  "Give her our love," Dove says with a faraway smile. "She has to come for dinner sometime soon. How's the situation at home with her?"

  "Not good," I mutter. "But she doesn't talk about it much."

  "Is she still with that boy?" Nox knits his brows together.

  "Unfortunately." I grab an apple off the counter and wave them off as I head to my bedroom. They invited me to come to the zoo with them, but I turned it down. While I'm totally aware going to the zoo with your parents and siblings isn't the coolest thing to do when you're freshly turned eighteen, I do want to go. But I can't – I need the privacy to decide what I want to do about my second date.

  I go through my hidden stash of savings in my bedroom. With Raphael's money and the promised cash for today's meeting, I'd be pretty much set to leave LA – with Mercy in tow.

  But Raphael told me not to see anyone else from the app.

  And besides... I'm not even sure anymore whether I really want to leave LA.

  Not now that I’ve met Raphael.

  My phone pings with a message and I look down, furrowing my brows when I see it.

  If you show up today, I’ll give you an extra ten grand.

  It’s from the person I’m meeting today.

  Nervously, my teeth dig into my bottom lip as I question my decision.

  There’s something Raphael doesn’t know about me yet, but it’s something he’s about to find out.

  I’m a fuck-up. I’ll never be anything more than that.

  This belief, ingrained in my head and hammered there by my stepfather and my mom, will never leave my mind for long. I’m acutely aware of the downfall of thinking this way, but there’s nothing to be done about it – it’s only the truth, after all.

  I send a text back even though there are tears burning my eyes and I feel sick at the thought that I’m already starting to lie to Raphael.

  I’ll be there. See you soon.

  I’m running late again, but this time it’s seriously not on purpose.

  I had the best intentions of showing up to this bar early, but the pricks at the front door wouldn’t let me in, not even with my fake ID. I argued with them for a solid ten minutes before looking for a back entrance. And of-freaking-course, now it’s raining too.

  It’s only a light rainfall, nothing unusual for this time of the year, but my makeup’s already running and my hair is a mess. My three hours getting ready have been in vain.

  Now, I’m standing on the pavement in front of the bar. The bouncers can’t tell me not to be here, as I’ve hissed at them a few times. But that doesn’t stop them from trying.

  I’m still waiting for the guy – how the hell am I supposed to recognize him, anyway? – when I hear a familiar voice calling my name.

  “Willa?”

  I look up through the rain, my blood instantly going cold as it runs through my veins. I see his face then for the first time in years. He looks older than he used to, with a complexion that’s just as tan is it always was. His hair is mostly gray now, but his cold, hard blue eyes are exactly the same.

  “D-Davis?”

  He smirks, drinking in my sorry form on the pavement. “You’d better come inside for a drink with me, Willa.”

  I don’t want to obey him.

  Years ago, I swore to myself I would never do that again, no matter what he threatened me with. There’s nothing Davis Roanoke can threaten me with to make me obey him. Mom’s dead now. He can’t use her against me anymore.

  Nevertheless, I find myself nodding, following my once-stepfather into the bar. I nervously scan the patrons, wondering which one of them is the one that called me here tonight. But I don’t get a chance to contemplate it any further – I freeze as Davis’ meaty palm wraps around my forearm and he sits me down at the bar.

  “We’ll have two whiskey neats, double,” he nods at the bartender while I digest my shock over seeing him again. The guy gives me an uncertain look, but as Davis slides a fifty-dollar bill to him, my age is quickly forgotten. He pours the drinks while Davis turns to face me again with that billion-dollar smile. “Are you okay, Willa?”

  No.

  No, I’m not okay. I haven’t ever been okay. And it’s because of you.

  All those words melt on my tongue, dissolving into nothing. I’m too afraid to say a word. Too stunned to find an appropriate reaction.

  “I take it you’re in shock,” he grins. “I figured you would be when you saw me again.”

  I drink the whiskey the bartender hands us in one go, throwing it back and making a face as it burns my throat.

  “What are you doing here, Davis? You left years ago.”

  “I’m back,” he shrugs. “Got re-married to a rich bitch, got a divorce... Left with a thick alimony payment I get monthly.”

  He winks at me and I feel bile rising in my stomach. This man makes me so fucking sick, pretending like he never hurt me, pretending like he never fucked me up as bad as he did.

  “Aren’t you happy I’m back?”

  A feeling of sickness lingers in my stomach. I shake my head no, but I’m powerless to do any more than that.

  “Such a little brat,” he smirks. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

  I can’t possibly tell my stepfather the truth, so I come up with some bullshit excuse about my friends bailing on me. He makes a sad face at me before suggesting, “Why don’t you come to my hotel with me? We can reminisce. And I have something of your mother’s.”

  This has my attention. I don’t have any mementos of Mom – all those years ago, the very man sitting next to me made sure of it.

  “What is it?”

  “Some old necklace of hers,” he shrugs. “A gift from your father, apparently.”

  I remember the one, nodding eagerly. Mom never took it off. It’s one of the things I remember as clearly as if I just ran my fingertips across it yesterday.

  “I shouldn’t,” I manage to get out. But I’m a marionette in Davis’ hands, just like I always was. He can shape, mold and manipulate me all he wants. A
nd judging by the confident smirk on his face, the man is clearly aware of it.

  “Come on.” He cocks his head at me. “Your friends bailed anyway, right?”

  I glance around the bar again. But surely, if the mystery man from the app was here, he would’ve come up to me now. I guess he was the one who chickened out this time, not me.

  “Okay,” I whisper in a small voice.

  “Good girl.”

  I wince at the sound of those two words on his lips. He’s the one that made me hate them.

  I regress when Davis is around. I’m back to being the helpless little kid who couldn’t fight him. Who couldn’t say no. Who’d been taught to be a good girl and obey an adult she trusted. And I did, I obeyed. And Davis proceeded to ruin my life.

  But his gaslighting didn’t stop there. He twisted his hold on my mind and my body until he broke me. It’s only because of Raphael that I feel I’ll be able to trust another man.

  Wordlessly, I follow him. We walk on the rainy street to his hotel that’s only a building to the left. I guess that’s why he was in this bar in the first place. My heart beats into overdrive as we get into the elevator and I feel his leering gaze on me.

  But unlike in the past, Davis doesn’t make a move the first chance he gets this time.

  No, this predator has grown smarter and even more murderous.

  He invites me into his room after unlocking it with a keycard. It’s a penthouse suite, several rooms overlooking the city. I guess that alimony check is paying for all of this.

  It makes me fist my hands, remembering the hell he put Mom and me through when I was a kid. We couldn’t dream of luxuries like this. We were lucky if we got to eat.

  “You want a drink?”

  I give a non-committal shrug, and he’s quick to start mixing an intoxicating cocktail from the mini fridge.

  I fight with my desire to leave and the old methods of obeying that were hammered into me. I don’t want to stay here. The thought of Davis touching me again makes my skin crawl. But I can’t bring myself to leave, not until he hands over my mom’s necklace.

  “So, you had something for me?” I ask, pretending I don’t notice my own voice shaking in his presence.