Stolen by a Sinner (Sinners 3)

“Jesus,” I mutter, once again swallowing hard on the emotions in my chest. “You look beautiful, gözümün nuru.”

I now call her what my grandmother used to call me. The light of my eye. That’s what my daughter is to me.

When she reaches me, I stare down at my little girl, who’s growing up way too fast. I lift the box between us and open it, presenting my gift to her. “Happy birthday, Alya.”

“Oh, Baba!” Her face lights up as she carefully lifts the necklace from the velvet. “Will you help me put it on?”

“Of course.”

She turns so I can attach the clasp behind her neck, then beams a smile at me. I have to take a deep breath as I hold my arm for her, then I lead her out of the house and into the limousine.

My daughter shines like a star as I take hold of her hand, giving it a squeeze.

I clear my throat, then say, “If a boy doesn’t treat you like the princess you are, he’s not worthy of you. Tonight I’m going to show you what to expect on a date, and you won’t settle for anything less. Understand?”

“Evet, Baba.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m allowing you to date,” I warn her.

Her shoulders slump. “But when, then?”

“Once I’ve taught you how to defend yourself, so you can kick a boy’s ass if he tries to get fresh with you.”

Alya stops right before she’s about to roll her eyes, knowing not to even try that shit with me.

“It’s for your own good,” I mutter. “You need to be able to protect yourself.”

“When will you teach me?”

“Soon.”

Not for at least another two years. There’s no way I’m letting my little girl date before she’s sixteen.

The limousine comes to a stop in front of the five-star restaurant I booked for the evening. I help Alya out of the car, then lead her inside, where a single table waits, a candle flickering on the white table cloth.

I pull out her chair, and when she’s seated, I help her scoot forward. “The boy will always pull out your chair for you.”

“Okay.”

I take a seat across from her. “And he’ll open doors for you, stepping inside first so he can take the bullet instead of you. Never walk first. This is why your mother always stays slightly behind me. It’s for protection.”

“Okay, Baba.”

A waiter brings us a bottle of sparkling water and welcomes us.

When he leaves to get our food, I continue, “You will tolerate no disrespect. You’re a Demir, Alya. We come from a proud family.”

She nods.

“And if he touches you without your permission or makes you uncomfortable…” I shake my head hard, murder already coursing through my veins.

“You’ll kill him. I know that part already.”

“Don’t forget it.”

Our meals are brought to the table. I ordered Alya’s favorite, cheeseburgers and fries.

“Mama will be angry if she finds out you had a burger,” my daughter teases me.

“You won’t tell her.”

“Then let me go to a party on Saturday,” the little shit starts to negotiate.

“No.”

“Please, Baba. Everyone will be there!”

Letting out a sigh, I stare at her pleading face until my fucking heart melts.

God help me.

“Only if Deniz goes with you,” I relent.

“Yes! Thank you!” She darts up to give me a hug, making me smile from ear to fucking ear.

She’s just like her mother. Has me wrapped around her little finger.

Alya starts to talk about the upcoming party, and I don’t follow a word of what she’s saying. But I listen, nodding every couple of seconds.

When we’re done eating, her fingers brush over the sapphires.

“There’s a tracking device in it,” I say. Her eyebrows draw together as she glances down at it. “See the little button at the back?”

“Evet.”

“Whenever you’re in danger, or even just a little scared, press it, and I’ll come.”

And fucking kill whoever dares to threaten you.

“I’ll always come.” My voice cracks over the words.

“Seni çok seviyorum, Baba,” she whispers, her bottom lip trembling.

“I love you more, gözümün nuru.”

Jesus, I’m about to cry like a baby.

Clearing my throat, I stand up and hold my hand out to her. “May I have this dance?”

She wipes a tear from her cheek and lays her small palm in mine. I pull her into my arms, the safest place on earth for her, and steer her slowly across the floor.

Leaning down, I press a kiss on her hair. “You’ll always be my little girl.”

She nods, resting her cheek against my chest, just like her mother’s done a million times.

“Do you believe in true love?” she whispers.

“Evet.”

“Do you think I’ll find it?”

“Definitely.” I press another kiss to her hair, then promise, “Just like your mother and I, you’ll find your happily-ever-after.”

The End.