Page 36 of Daddy's Reluctant Queen

“What do you mean?”

“Well, using her up and then killing her is the play, right? Maybe you could see your way into letting someone else have a crack at her?”

I could smack him across his bald head for even suggesting such a thing. I don’t, though. Instead, I just tell him, “Don’t get distracted by your dick, Cyril. I’ve already got too many of you worried about where to stick that thing rather than doing your fucking jobs. Leave.”

He nods, then utters anotheryes, sirbefore leaving my office. I listen to them walk through the halls, waiting for the soft rumble of the front door opening and closing as I drink my vodka.

Once I’m sure they have gone, I say aloud, “I thought I told you to go to your room, Sofia.”

A few seconds go by, then the door opens and she walks in, looking at me with those big blue eyes. “Sorry.”

Maybe the alcohol is getting to me, but the urge to rip her clothes off her body isn’t as strong as it usually is when she doesn’t address me correctly. I drink and glare at her. She clasps her hands together and says, “Do you really think my brother’s snitched?”

“I don’t know,” I confess. “Won’t know until we find him.”

She nods. “Then what?”

“What do you mean?”

She pauses, taking a small breath before she speaks. “You told them that you didn’t want them to kill him outright. What’s going to happen to my brother once you find him?”

I finish my drink, downing it. “You already know the answer to that.”

She nods slowly. “You could make a different choice,” she says. “I mean… you decided not to kill me.”

“I decided touseyou, Princess,” I correct, “instead of killing you. Would you rather that change?”

“No, of course not,” she says. “But?—”

“Why do you think you are in a position to negotiate with me?”

She blinks, then her shoulders relax and she walks up to me. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she says softly. “I know you don’t like to be questioned.”

Hitting me with a ‘Daddy’ outside of our bedroom activities is strategic… and it’s working. The moment she speaks it, my dick wakes up, pressing itself against the zipper of my slacks.

She stops in front of me, just a few inches away and just close enough for me to pick up her sweet scent. “I just want to know if killing him really is an option when you could just torture him. Maybe lock him away like you did me?”

She doesn’t touch me. She knows better. But God help me, I want her to. “You two were raised in this life. You know, very well, what happens to rats.”

“But he might not be a rat,” she says.

“Yeah.”

She narrows her eyes slightly. “But you think he is… or maybe that doesn’t matter.”

“Sofia, if I discover that he’s been talking, I won’t have any choice. You have to understand what needs to happen.”

She nods slowly. “I know. I guess, then… be sure? Please don’t do anything to him unless you’re sure.”

“I’ll think about it,” I tell her. Her standing this close to me is making me horny… almost unreasonably so.

And it’s right here that I realize that I can’t touch her. Not tonight. Not feeling like this. As much as I want to, I know it’s a bad decision.

“Go on to your room. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She blinks at me, surprised, maybe a little dejected, but she doesn’t argue. She turns and walks away.

I make myself another drink. That was unexpected. And maybe it’s time that I reevaluate this arrangement. Or it could have just been a slight lapse. Beautiful, sweet-smelling princesses are like sirens sometimes if you let them catch you off guard.