Ruthless

I’m trapped in a billionaire’s penthouse with him and his daughter for the next 24 hours.

I’ve been his daughter’s speech therapist ever since her mom passed.

She hasn’t said a full sentence in nine months, but she’s making progress.

By the time I got to his penthouse, the power in the building had gone out.

He opened the door shirtless, barefoot, and holding a candle.

Before I could say anything, his daughter came running and jumped straight into my arms.

He checked his phone and said the power company wasn’t sending anyone until morning.

She started bouncing in my arms, looked up at him and said, “Can Sarah stay tonight? Please, Daddy?”

We both froze.

I watched his face change, then his eyes went glassy, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

He nodded, just barely, like he didn’t trust his voice.

She slid out of my arms and skipped down the hall.

He turned to me, stepped closer, his voice low and rough,

“Her first sentence in nine months, and she used it to ask for you.”