Page 24 of Sexting the Silverfox Daddy

Cassie

"Watch your balance, Cassie." Gennady stood behind me, his long fingers grazing my waist, adjusting my stance. "Self-defense starts with a solid center."

His voice was right in my ear, his warm breath brushing my neck, sending a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the training. We were in the estate's gym, where he insisted on teaching me some basic self-defense moves. "Just in case," he'd said, but I knew what "just in case" meant.

"Like this," he said, his hands covering mine, guiding me through a blocking move. "Use your forearm to deflect, then counter fast."

But my focus wasn't on the technique. It was on the heat of his chest pressed against my back, his scent—a mix of faint cologne and raw masculinity—clouding my brain. My thoughts scattered, logic slipping away.

"Focus, Cassie," he said, a teasing edge in his low voice. He knew damn well I was distracted.

"I-I'm totally focused," I stammered, but when his hands shifted my hips again, my knees went weak.

Goddamn it, how am I supposed to learn to protect myself when he's doing this to me?

I tried to zero in, but when he wrapped his arms around me from behind to show me how to break a hold, his strong grip against my body shut my brain down completely.

"Cassie, relax," he chuckled, his breath warm against my ear. "You're shaking like a leaf."

"I'm not!" I huffed, but my voice was about as convincing as a kid caught stealing cookies.

"Hit me with your elbow," he said, still holding me from behind. "Hard. Don't worry about hurting me."

I tried, but my heart wasn't in it. The move was weak, half-assed, my mind too tangled up in him to focus. After a few more pathetic attempts, I sighed, deflated. "I'm never gonna get this. I'm just not cut out for this violent stuff."

I turned to face him, frustration bubbling up. "Maybe I'm just not built for it."

Gennady's eyes softened, a mix of amusement and tenderness. He brushed his thumb across my cheek. "Alright, if the fancy moves aren't your thing, I'll teach you the simplest, most effective trick."

"What's that?" I asked, curious despite myself.

He smirked, a wicked glint in his green eyes. "If you're in trouble, kick his balls."

I blinked, then burst out laughing. "Gennady Sokolov, did you just say that?"

"Practicality over everything," he said with a shrug, his eyes dancing with indulgence. "Not elegant, but it'll drop any bastard."

His rare humor lightened my mood instantly. This man, so commanding and cold to the world, always showed me this softer side, and it made my heart ache in the best way.

He watched me laugh, his expression shifting to something serious. He cupped my face, his gaze locking onto mine. "Cassie, I swear to you, I won't let you get hurt. Not ever. Even if it costs me my life."

The raw sincerity in his voice hit me hard, my heart trembling. This man—the ruthless mob boss everyone feared—would give everything for me. It was overwhelming, thrilling, and terrifying all at once.

I wasn't scared of his world's dangers. I was scared of how much I was starting to need him, how I might lose myself in him completely, becoming just his shadow.

But right then, staring into his intense green eyes, I pushed those fears aside. I rose on my toes and kissed him, soft and brief but full of trust and love. "I know," I whispered. "I trust you."

His eyes flickered with surprise, then warmed, and he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. In his arms, I felt safer than ever. But a quiet voice in the back of my mind warned me: This safety might come at a cost. Your independence. Your freedom. Your self.

Was I okay with that?

I didn't have an answer. Not yet.

The next afternoon, I was practicing in the greenhouse when my phone buzzed. It was Jennifer, her voice practically vibrating with excitement. "Cassie! You won't believe this! The Vienna International Music Competition prelims results are out!"

My fingers froze on the violin strings. "What?"

"You made it to the first round!" she practically screamed. "Cassie, you're in! I knew signing you up was the right call!"

I stood there, stunned. The Vienna International Music Competition was the dream for any classical musician.

Brutal selection process, 99% elimination rate in the prelims. Only three winners got to perform with world-class orchestras, and the first-place winner could study at Juilliard, maybe even train under a master.

Jennifer had mentioned signing me up six months ago, but I was so deep in my personal mess back then, I'd brushed it off.

"You actually sent in my application?" My voice shook.

"Hell yeah! Used your old practice videos. Cassie, the judges loved you! They said your playing had 'rare emotional depth and technical precision.'"

My heart pounded, excitement surging through me. This wasn't just a gig—it was a shot at changing my life.

"When's the first round?" I asked, barely containing my grin.

"Next Saturday night, downtown at the concert hall. But, Cassie, you gotta confirm your spot by tomorrow afternoon!"

I paced the greenhouse, my mind racing. This was too big to pass up. Miss it, and I'd have to wait five years for another chance. At thirty, I'd be ancient for a "new" musician.

"I need to tell my family," I said.

"Damn right! Lisa's gonna be so proud!" Jennifer said, still buzzing.

Not just Mom. I had to tell Gennady. He'd get how much this meant to me.

I practically ran to his study, ready to burst through the door with the news, but stopped short when I heard his voice, low and sharp, from inside.

"Lock down the estate, highest security level. No one in or out, including Cassie."

"But, Boss, if Miss Monroe wants to leave—"

"No exceptions," Gennady snapped, his tone final. "Last night, Marco teamed up with the Petrov Family and hit three of our port operations. They're out of control. Until we neutralize this threat, the estate's her safest place."

"Understood, Boss."

My hand hovered over the doorknob, frozen. Petrov Family. Attacks. Threats. My excitement crashed, replaced by a sinking dread.

Things were worse than I thought. If I told Gennady about the competition now, would he let me go?

The answer was obvious: no.

I backed away quietly, my heart heavy, and returned to the greenhouse. Staring at Jennifer's text with the competition details, I wrestled with myself.

This was my dream. The Vienna International Music Competition, only held every five years. If I missed it, I'd be thirty by the next one—a dinosaur in the classical music world.

But outside was dangerous. Really dangerous.

I paced, my thoughts a tangled mess.

What if I didn't tell him?

Just this once. Just for the competition. It was a few hours at a packed concert hall downtown—safe, public. I could slip out, compete, and be back before he noticed. Gennady was always busy; he might not even realize I was gone.

If I pulled it off, if I won, I'd prove my worth in music. Gennady would be proud, right? He'd see the risk was worth it.

I grabbed my phone and texted Jennifer: I'm in.

The second I sent it, I knew I'd made my choice.

Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe it'd blow up in my face.

But some chances don't come twice. I couldn't let fear stop me from chasing my dream, not this time.