“I want you with me tonight,” he says. “To the Kingston house. I need them to see you. To understand what’s at stake.”
A flicker of hesitation tugs at my spine. “Won't I be in the way?”
“Never,” he says, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “You’re the reason I’m doing this. That makes youessential.”
***
The room is too quiet. Polished wood. Leather chairs. Stark lighting that feels like it’s meant to expose everything, even what you don’t want seen.
I stay close to Elijah, my fingers twined tightly in his. His presence grounds me, but my heart’s racing as I take in the four men seated in front of us.
Kade, composed behind his massive desk. Kaleb draped over the arm of his chair, all clear-eyed curiosity. Keller and Kai off to the side, assessing. Silent. Sharp. These aren’t just businessmen. There’s something heavier in the room—authority that doesn't need to be explained.
Elijah clears his throat, his voice low but sure.
“This is Ava,” Elijah says simply. There’s no explanation after that, like it should be obvious why I’m here. “She stays.”
No one argues.
“What I’m going to show you is a very intimate moment for us,” he says. “And when you see the photo… I know you’ll understand.”
I feel the shift in the room before anything else. Eyes flick to me, then to the small, folded photo he’s holding like it’s more dangerous than it looks.
And that’s when it hits me. Hits hard.
These four men—strangers to me, even if they’re close to Elijah—are about to see a part of my life that was meant to be just ours. A private, sacred moment between him and me.
My stomach tightens. My throat goes dry. I swallow hard and whisper, barely loud enough to be heard, “Elijah… emm… is it necessary for them to see the photo?”
My voice is small. Too small for this room.
But he hears me. Of course he does.
His head turns slowly, eyes meeting mine, and something shifts. Not just the look in them—but the energy between us. Theboyfriend I know, the man who holds me when I cry and makes me tea when my mind spirals, is still there.
But now he’s something more.
“Do you trust me, princess?” he asks, voice velvet-wrapped steel.
Everything inside me stills.
It’s not just Elijah speaking now.
It 'sDaddy.
And Daddy always wants the best for me. Even when I don’t understand. Even when it’s hard.
“Yes, Daddy,” I breathe. “Always.”
His expression softens in a way that makes my chest ache. He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead.
“Good girl.”
My heart stutters, heat rising in my chest—not from shame, but frombeing known. From being his.
He turns back to the table, unfolding the photo slowly, placing it on the polished surface with deliberate care. The room leans in—not in hunger, but in respect. The photo says more than a dozen pages of reports could.
No one speaks for a long beat.
