She nods, smiling, completely unaware. "Yep. I'm Daddy's little girl."
I grab her wrist. "Maybe not for long." I kiss her. But this time it feels like an omen, like something's going to snap and break. I don't want it to be her bones, her heart, anything, but fuck, she is the daughter of Cane O'Grady.
She smiles, kissing me again. "I like it when you hold on tight," she whispers in my ear. "Maybe for tonight you can find some handcuffs at a sex shop on the Strip."
I chuckle, anxious in ways she doesn't understand. "You want me to tie you up?"
"Oh, Flynn, I want you to do all sorts of things to me." She licks her lips, blows me a kiss and walks out.
I reach for my phone, turning it on, wanting to reread the encrypted brief sent by Ruthless Corporation. I pull it up. My target is clear.
I have to kill Cane O'Grady. Today.
I may have fallen in love with Fiona, but I sure didn't anticipate having to kill her father.
8
Fiona
I float home. Well, technically, I'm in one of my father's Town Cars, which pulled up at the front entrance of the Crown Casino. But internally I am high as a kite, floating on a cloud, lost in a daydream, over my head. Or is it head over heels?
I'm not sure, all I know is that I fell in love last night. At the same time I got my cherry popped. It seems more than too good to be true, but after spending the night wrapped around Flynn's body, there's no one that could tell me this isn't a good idea, that this isn't real.
I saw the look in his eyes when he made me come. I saw the look in his eyes when he told me I was beautiful, that I was his, that I belonged to him.
They weren't words I ever thought I needed to hear from a guy. But when Flynn said them, they felt like the missing pieces of my heart. And maybe I've been living in a fairy tale my entire life. My dad is basically a billionaire and I know a thing or two about "rich girl syndrome".
I’ve lived my life in a protected glass castle, but I feel like all my walls are breaking, shattering to the ground. I want to be in the wide-open spaces of Flynn's heart.
I hate having to leave him, but I know a heart-to-heart conversation with my father is in order. I may have come into town to tell him about my change of careers, but now I have bigger news. Now I have to tell him I fell in love last night.
When I get to the estate, he's waiting for me in his dining room. It's a beautiful space, with rich oak and a modern aesthetic. It suits him. It feels classy but understated. My dad may be loaded but he isn't the kind of guy who needs to flash his cash. The room is filled with wide windows that let the desert sun hit the plants that line the windowsills. It's a lovely space.
My mother designed it and she loved taking care of plants when she was alive. It's funny sometimes, like right now, walking into the dining room and seeing my dad with a watering can in one hand, but he loves to take care of the Monstera stalks and the cacti. It's his last act of love and devotion. That is the kind of love I want to emulate, the kind that stays around even after death.
"Hey sweetheart," he says, catching my eye. "Looks like you didn't get much sleep."
I laugh. "Yeah, I stayed up so late with Lucia. You know how she is."
My dad frowns. "Did you get yourself into any trouble?" He indicates that I should sit down, and I take a seat across from him. Esmeralda enters the dining room with the pot of coffee, pouring me a cup of the fresh, aromatic brew. I add some cream and sugar. My dad does the same. I reach for the scrambled eggs and set them on my plate along with a few slices of French toast and a generous portion of maple syrup. I'm famished. After last night, my God, I've worked up an appetite.
When I start adding bacon to my plate, my dad chuckles. "I take it you need some protein after a night of drinking. Are you hungover, Fifi?"
I shake my head. "No. I'm completely sober. Though I wouldn't mind a Bloody Mary." A moment later Esmeralda asks me if I want a salted rim and I do. Maybe a drink will offer me some liquid courage to tell my dad what has happened.
"So what's going on?" he asks. "You stayed out all night and you should. You're twenty-one years old in Sin City." Then he shrugs, never having been much of a prude. "Did you meet somebody?"