Page 23 of Filthy Business (Obsessive Age Gap #1)

Iris

Daddy forced me to stay home today since I was sick, but as soon as he left for work, I pulled out my phone and checked Leona’s check-in locations from yesterday and today.

The last girl who’d been to Luke’s apartment had given me all I needed to know about that piece of shit.

He hadn’t changed.

If anything, the mother and son duo had grown worse.

I pulled up Daddy’s last message.

Me: I’m going to get a facial and my nails done to cheer me up. The vomiting seems to have passed. You can see where I’ll be on my location.

I smiled when I saw the three dots dance—his response was instant.

Daddy: Nick is on his way, baby. Have fun. I’ll see you both tonight. Have my holes ready. D x

I shook my head, concluding that I would never have a sweet, romantic relationship with this man.

And yet, I’d pick Daddy every time.

I rubbed my flat abdomen, excited and eager for my plan to progress. Feeling sentimental, I messaged him again.

Me: I’ll miss our lunchtime together. I’ll see you tonight. x

I left my phone on the bed and got dressed.

***

With my nails manicured and a relaxing facial massage complete, I contemplated the older woman in the same beauty salon.

My inner rage, pain, and distress were dampened by being coddled by Daddy.

Never had I expected him to fall so hard for me.

Everything in his life had left him open to my exploitation.

I glanced at Leona as she joined me in the reception area, blinking back tears.

I clutched my receipt and stared from the corner of the room.

She looked the same.

The haughty attitude. The privileged tone as she addressed the peasant class. All of it under a face caked like a bakery. Her cloying perfume was so strong it was suffocating.

“What do you mean it’s declined?”

she hissed.

And I could breathe again, remembering why I was here.

“We can try another card?”

the young receptionist suggested with a smile.

Leona’s vicious tongue didn’t hold back as she muttered under her breath, rifling through her wallet.

I waited long enough to hear that the second card was declined—and Leona’s explosion—before I slipped out unnoticed. Nick was waiting in the car, stepping out to open the door for me before I even reached him.

“Please make one last stop at Harrods,”

I told him.

He smiled and nodded.

“Yes, of course, Miss Dalton.”

I blinked at him for a moment. This all felt surreal. But the baby nestling in my belly was real. It was ours.

As Nick closed the door, I rolled the window down and caught a glimpse of Leona’s tantrum through the salon window as the car began to move.

No more high society parties. No more fresh-off-the-runway gowns. No more hiring men and fucking them on the side. No more power over the working class.

Leona Trentham was unravelling.

And I wasn’t done with her yet.

***

Dinner was ready by the time Daddy came home. His 30-year-old sherry cask Macallan waited on the table, and the Harrods desserts were tucked in the fridge. His shoes clicked across the marble floor—jacket and bag discarded—before his body slammed into mine. He hoisted me off my feet and sat my ass on the counter.

“God, I missed you today, baby,”

he said, nuzzling into my neck before kissing me.

His hand yanked my hair back as he devoured my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his waist, fingers hooking around his neck. I inhaled his cologne—fresh, sexy, unmistakably him.

He smelled like home.

I took a moment for myself—just to hold him.

His kiss softened, and when he pulled back, his wet lips were curled in a warm smile. I almost blurted out that I loved him, but my tattered heart didn’t have the courage.

His smile vanished as he glanced behind me.

“Did you buy me a bottle of Macallan?”

he growled.

God, what now?

“Yes,”

I said, resting my hands on his shoulders, admiring his royal blue tie.

“I wanted to do something nice for you.”

He looked startled for a moment.

“Baby, I’m the one who’s supposed to spoil you. Your allowance is all for you.”

“Well, if it’s mine, I wanted to use it for you,”

I said, digging in stubbornly.

“I’m going to let this slide since it’s your first offence,”

he said, tapping my nose.

I rolled my eyes.

“How magnanimous of you,”

I drawled.

“Yes, I agree.”

“So you don’t want the desserts I bought especially for us?” I pouted.

His eyes narrowed on me, and he pulled back—but didn’t move far. His hand vanished into his pocket and emerged with a black and gold card. He slapped it on the counter.

“Use this until yours comes. You do not use your allowance on me, sweetheart. Go mad. Get baby things or whatever you need. I only need you.”

He wasn’t used to receiving, and it made him uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Daddy. I don’t deserve your generosity, but I do appreciate it,”

I murmured.

He wasn’t the enemy I’d once thought him to be. And over the years, I’d seen how he kept himself buried in work—too buried.

“What’s going on with you today? Why don’t you deserve my generosity? It’s my bloody job to spoil you. I’m not getting fucking sacked.”

I giggled and rested my head on his chest. His arms enveloped me in his warmth.

“I missed our lunchtime blowjob,”

I said against his shirt.

“Ah, that’s understandable,”

he said, patting my back in consolation.

“I do have a fine cock.”

While I got the chocolate and berry desserts, he stayed in the kitchen with me, helping to dish out the food. I spent the night watching him talk, sinking into him while we relaxed on the couch, and clinging to him in the throes of passion in bed—hoping my fire wouldn’t burn us alive.