Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gideon
“Daddy!”
I watch, grinning, as Victoria runs into my friend’s arms, practically launching herself at him as she wraps her arms around his neck.
Laughing, Maxwell spins her around, holding her close as he presses a kiss to her cheek. “Did you miss me, little thief?”
“Uh-huh. So much. But we had so much fun! Miss Evelyn read us stories and taught us the alphabet and we had lunch and then Juliet had to go in timeout and then we had naptime and then we got to watch Izzy dance! She’s such a good dancer, Daddy, I wish I could watch her on stage.”
Guilt pricks my heart. I’m sure my Little girl wants to be back on stage as much as Victoria wants to see her there.
Juliet emerges from the front door next, and while she makes a beeline for Jasper, her movements are distinctly slower. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, princess.” Picking his wayward Little girl up, Jasper perches her on his hip. “What's this I hear about you needing a timeout today?”
“Oh my god, Tori!” Turning her head, Juliet glares at her friend. “You’re such a tattletale!”
Jasper lands a sharp swat on Juliet’s thigh, sending her a stern look. “Juliet! That wasn’t nice at all. Victoria was just telling us about her day. Apologize right now.”
“No! She is a tattletale and I hate her!”
Uh-oh. Someone is in desperate need of a nap. Or a spanking. Possibly both.
Hurt twists Victoria’s face and tears pool on her lashes. “I’m sorry, Juju. I didn’t mean to be a tattletale.”
“It’s all right, sweetheart. Miss Evelyn would have told me all about it, anyway. Juliet and I are going to have a long talk when we get home and you will get a real apology tonight.”
“You can spank me all you want, I’m not apologizing!”
I have to swallow a laugh at that. Juliet talks a good game, but we all know she’ll do exactly as her Daddy says once he’s lit her bottom up good and proper.
Movement by the front door distracts me from the drama happening around me, and I look over to see Miss Evelyn emerging from the front door holding Isabella’s hand. At first glance, all I see is my sweet little doll, looking a bit worn out from her day, and my heart leaps at the sight of her.
But when I move closer, I see the rims of red around her eyes, and concern sends that same heart racing. “Isabella?” Rushing forward, I scoop her up, cradling her close as she clings to my neck. “What’s wrong, little one? Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head but doesn’t answer, so I look over at Miss Evelyn who steps forward to rub her hand over Isabella’s back. “I’m not sure what’s wrong with her. She wouldn’t talk to me. We had our dance class and she did a wonderful performance of ‘Waltz of the Flowers’ and when she finished, she was crying.”
Again I feel that stab of guilt. Did I do this? I know how much she loves to dance, but I thought bringing her to the island, giving her a chance to teach the other Littles would make up for what she’d lost. But I suppose nothing can really make up for losing a spot in one of the most celebrated ballet companies in the world.
How foolish I’ve been. I’ll have to find a way to make it up to her.
“Thank you, Miss Evelyn. I’ll talk to her tonight and figure out what’s wrong. Can you say goodbye to Miss Evelyn, little one?”
Clinging even more tightly to my neck, Isabella shakes her head and I sigh, sending Miss Evelyn an apologetic look.
“Don’t worry about it,” she says, giving Isabella’s back another gentle rub before turning her smile on me. “Sometimes Little girls just need their Daddies.”
The thought that she needs me, needs my comfort and guidance, eases some of the guilt. With another round of goodbyes for my friends, I carry Isabella over to the waiting car.
Blaine’s expression shifts to one of worry as he holds the door open for us. “Is she all right?”
“Long day, I think. She’ll be better once we get her home.”
“Home it is, then.”
Isabella doesn’t loosen her grip on me the entire ride back to the house, and my worry grows with every passing minute. And when I try to put her in the playpen in my office, she whimpers and wraps herself even more fully around me.
“What’s wrong, little doll?” I murmur, bouncing her gently in place. “Daddy can’t fix it if you don’t talk to me.”
But she remains stubbornly silent, so I resign myself to an afternoon of working with her on my lap and settle in my office chair. If this is going to become a habit, I’ll need a different setup, something a bit more comfortable for both of us.
It isn’t long after we're seated, however, before my little doll finally lets go of my neck and slides to the floor. I look down to find her staring up at me with wide, hopeful eyes, and it takes a moment for me to understand what she wants.
Ah. She needs her paci.
Unzipping my pants, I pull out my cock and she eagerly scooches forward to take it in her mouth. And I pass the rest of the afternoon, one conference call after another, with my Little girl nestled between my legs, sucking on her pacifier.
I could not possibly ask for a more perfect life.
* * *
Izzy
“Are you ready to tell Daddy what’s wrong, little one?”
I made it all the way to dinner without him asking again, but I suppose it was too much to hope he would drop the matter entirely. Shrugging, I look down at the half-eaten lasagna on my plate and my stomach clenches.
Again, all I can think of is how long it’s going to take me to lose the weight I’ve gained here on the island. So much so that I may have to start dipping into the “extras” Typhon gives me after all, a thought that makes my skin crawl. But fat ballerinas don’t even get roles in the corps, and what’s the point of going back if I’m not returning to the company?
“Isabella.” Daddy’s tone is firm, sending apprehension creeping up my spine. “Look at me, please.”
Apparently I’m all out of time to delay this conversation, so I force my gaze up to meet his. “Yes, Daddy?”
A sad smile tugs at his lips. “There’s my pretty little doll. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to lie. To tell him I just had a long day and was feeling tired when he picked me up.
But I’m so tired of lying. Tired of pretending to be everything he wants so I can maybe, possibly escape someday. The weight of all that pretense is heavy on my shoulders, and I’m ready to be done with it.
So I give him exactly what he wants: The truth.
“I miss the ballet.” And once I start telling him the truth, I can’t seem to stop. “I miss New York, I miss my apartment, I miss having the freedom to go wherever I want whenever I want. I miss the life you stole from me and it’s slowly killing me to know I may never get it back.”
By the time I finish, my breaths are coming in ragged gasps and just like back at school there are tears streaming down my cheeks. I half expect him to drag me up out of my highchair to spank me, but to my never-ending surprise, he doesn’t so much as move an eyebrow as he watches me.
“I didn’t realize you were suffering so much,” he finally says, his voice so quiet I nearly miss it. “That’s certainly not what I wanted for you when I brought you to the island with me.”
He sounds so… sad . I could almost believe he means it. That he has a heart after all, and he does actually want me to be happy.
Emboldened by that thought, I clasp my hands in front of me, and I put every bit of desperation I feel into my voice. “Then take me home. Let me go back to the city, back to my life. I worked so fucking hard to be a ballerina. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. If you feel anything for me, please, please send me back.”
For a moment, for one heartbreakingly rose-colored moment, I think he might agree.
But then he shakes his head, and that hope shatters in my chest, the sharp shards of it slicing me open from the inside out.
“I’m sorry, little doll, but I can’t do that. But I will do everything in my power to ensure you never regret staying on this island with me. You have my word.”
Rising from his seat, he unstraps me from my highchair and hoists me up into his arms. And when he heads for the stairs, I assume he means to take me to bed. But we walk straight past his giant, heavy bed to the French doors that lead out to a wide balcony I’ve never been allowed on before.
There, he lowers me to my feet, facing out over the sprawling island around us. In the distance I can see the docks Juliet once tried to reach in her own bid for freedom. And beyond that, nothing. Just an empty blackness I assume is the ocean.
“Hands on the railing, little doll. If you move them, Daddy will have to punish you.”
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.”