Page 52 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad

"You’re joking," I whisper. "Not even you can be that much of a bastard."

"Oh, good, so I don’t need to pretend." He wipes all expression off his face. "Do it," he snaps.

My thighs tremble and my knees hit the floor with a thump that sends pain shooting up my legs.

"Touch yourself."

I gape.

He tilts his head, "You don’t want me to come there."

I tilt up my chin. "On the contrary," I raise my gaze to his face, and flinch. The skin is drawn tightly over his cheekbones, his jaw tics, and the creases around his eyes seem to deepen. He seems like a man possessed, one who is this close to losing control, and I am not sure why.

"What…what did I do?" I whisper.

"What makes you think it’s something you did, hmm?"

"Isn’t it?"

"Yours is not to question why."

"—But to do or die?" I joke.

He draws in a breath; the planes of his chest seem to flex.

In two steps, he closes the distance between us, grabs the hair at the back of my head and tugs. Pain lances down my spine, arrows straight to the emptiness that crawls in my core.

"I told you never to talk about dying, didn’t I?"

I stare up into his face. His jaw tics, his features twist, and he looks like a man who’s seen a ghost.Oh, hell."I’m sorry," I whisper. "I didn’t mean to bring back memories—"

"I told you not to speak," he snaps.

"You didn’t," I protest.

"It’s understood."

"What? Now I’m supposed to read your mind?" I huff

"Nope, now you take the punishment I am going to mete out to you."

18

Damian

"Show me your pussy."

"What?" Color smears her cheeks.

"You heard me."

What the hell are you doing, asshole?Let her go, get away from her, turn around and head back home—to…my daughter? My life…shorn of all creativity, one filled with responsibilities that weigh heavily on me. A life filled with yearning for something…more.

I love my daughter—the light of my life, the one who makes it all worthwhile… And if I don’t work another day in my life, she’ll be provided for. But would she be proud of the music I’ve created so far? Would she see my fall from the pinnacle of success I’d once occupied? Would she remember me as a failure…one who couldn’t compose anymore? And the songs I have out there… They are hardly the kind I’d want her to listen to. I have to come up with more, so much more, something that will ensure that she sees me in a new light. The kind of father I’ve always wanted to be, one she’ll remember with pride. With the kind of emotion I’d wanted to feel for my own parents and hadn’t quite been able to, given the distance that had grown between us since the incident.

No, I want more for my daughter. I have to do right by her. I have to make her proud of me if it is the last thing I do… And this sassy, proud woman is going to help me with that. She will play a key role in helping me reinvent myself. So what, if I am being selfish about it? I owe it to myself, don’t I? I simply have to make sure she benefits from this arrangement too.

"Do it, Flower," I coax her. Where the hell did that come from? I am not supposed to show her any mercy, yet here I am requesting her to fall in line with my plans. I shake my head, straighten my shoulders. "Don’t keep me waiting." I lower the pitch of my voice.