His voice is husky with need, and I can’t help but wonder if I might actually enjoy whatever punishment he thinks up for me. Maybe if I hadn’t just poured my heart and soul out to him, only to be refused the one thing I’ve asked of him, I wouldn’t be feeling so rebellious.
But rebellious is exactly what I feel, and so I cross my arms over my chest as I stare out at the ocean. At the freedom I know in my heart I’ll never have again. “No.”
“No?” There’s a note of warning twined with amusement in his tone. “Good Little girls do not tell their Daddies ‘no’, Isabella. Put your hands on the railing, now.”
Gathering my courage, I tilt my head up to look at him. “No.”
Surprise flickers in his eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by something darker and far more dangerous. “Have it your way, then.”
He disappears back into his bedroom, leaving me alone on the balcony. As my heart races, anticipating what my punishment for so openly defying him will be, I look down over the edge. While I’m in excellent shape, being a dancer and all, I have no doubt I’d break a leg or worse trying to climb down from here.
I’m still examining the climb down, trying to convince myself that maybe, maybe I’m clever enough to make it down without getting hurt when Daddy returns to the balcony. In one hand, he holds colorful rope. In the other, a thick piece of leather that sends my stomach plummeting to my knees.
“Last chance to do as you’re told, little doll. If you obey now, I won’t punish you.”
Do it! Do it! Do it!My mind is screaming at me to obey, to not push him any further because even though I’ve never been whipped in my life, I know exactly what that strip of leather is for.
But I can’t make myself form the words. My stubborn, rebellious heart is fully at the helm right now, and she is desperate to make a stand. To prove he hasn’t broken us.
“No.”
“Have it your way then, little doll.”
ChapterTwenty-Four
Gideon
Back straight, chin lifted, my little doll is the very picture of defiance. Yet, somehow, I’m not bothered. If anything, this feels like it’s been a long time coming. Maybe this is what she needs, this final act of rebellion before she can truly accept her place here on the island.
And as her Daddy, it’s my responsibility to give herexactlywhat she needs.
Moving with slow, deliberate steps, I place the strap on the wide railing where she’ll be able to see it as I punish her. As I roll my sleeves to my elbows, I consider stripping her naked. But no. I want her in her cute little schoolgirl uniform. I want everything about this punishment to remind her of who she is.
Of who shebelongsto.
She watches me in silence, her dark eyes tracking my every movement. And though there is still rebellion in her gaze, there is need, too. Confirming my suspicions that as much as she may rail against my ownership of her, she needs it. Needs my dominance, my discipline.
Needs me to be exactly who I am. Her Daddy.
Taking one of her hands, I pick up a length of rope I’d set aside a moment ago, wrapping it around her wrist. With a single sharp tug, Isabella stumbles forward and I force her hand to the railing, the dark green of the rope stark against her pale skin as it winds around and around both her wrist and the marble railing.
With one hand secured, I bring the rope across to her other arm, repeating the same process until I’m sure that no matter what, my little doll isn’t going anywhere.
Pink colors her cheeks and her eyes flash with fury as she tugs at the restraints, her dainty foot rising and falling against the balcony in a move that brands her as a defiant Little girl no matter how much she fights against it. That single act of stomping her foot settles something inside me.
Regardless of what she may say, how she may beg, Isabella is my Little girl. Her place is here, with me.
And it’s high time she learns it.
* * *
Izzy
There is no give in the rope tying me to the railing in front of me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m aware I should be panicked about being completely immobile, at my Daddy’s mercy, but all I feel is… calm.
This is all out of my hands. No matter how I fight or scream or beg, nothing I do will change the outcome of what’s about to happen. For reasons I can’t explain, that knowledge brings me a sense of peace. As if I’m able to finally let go of the expectations I’ve placed on myself to find a way out of here, to save myself.
I am the princess trapped in the tower. And there is no one coming to save me. Not even myself.
