Stalker Daddy: Villain Daddies

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

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Vito

I set the bags on the ground, watching carefully as to where Fia is moving to. Her eyes follow the path of this wooden cabin that I built and own for a couple of years now, so it’s relatively new compared to the massive trees around.

I have everything set up; backup generators, gas, water pipes, and food. Having been in the army, I had developed a baseline of paranoia that forces me to out up traps around the cabin. It’s for my own perfection and for the sake of my darling Fia.

Ever since meeting her for the first time, I had actually cursed Cyrus for getting this gig. As bad as it sounds, I was jealous of him for being able to be with her for the whole day. I want that job, but he is my brother in arms and my closest friend, so I never thought of doing any harm to him.

If he was a stranger, then that’s a different story. I wouldn’t mind using some of my influence on him or strongarming my way into the position if words don’t work.

“Wow,” Fia murmurs with awe as her pretty brown eyes dart to the fireplace. “It’s amazing!”

I close the door behind me, eyes turning to the drawn curtains, and I decide that it’s best to keep them shut. It’s nighttime, and I’m not going to take any chances because it’s been a while since I have been here. Newcomers could have migrated here, and I want to survey the areas first thing in the morning when she’s still sleeping.

I have taken out the electronic factor, but I can’t positively say that we haven’t been followed. I didn’t notice anything when we were traveling down the long stretch of road from the busy city to the cold northern town with a sparse population.

I have a brief file in my head about everyone in town, but they know nothing about me. This cabin is for me to destress and get away from the screaming noises of the city. I have had enough of loud sounds when I was overseas and hearing gunshots in the city is enough to trigger memories of deaths in my mind.

I did spend more time up here for a while, but that was before I met Fia. I wanted to be near her because this heartache I would feel when she is far, and untouchable would be immensely painful to deal with.

The scar on my neck would throb insistently until I see her smiling with those pretty lips, but it’s the best when she plays the violin for my ears. She makes mistakes, and she knows this, and that’s why she tries harder to make it perfect because she’s looking for that praise from me.

“I’ll show you around,” I offer, and her eyes light up like a star on the Christmas tree.

Her excited nod and easily agreeable impulse have her skipping in front of me. She waits with impatience as her little feet become restless. Those childish patterns on her socks are adorable, but my eyes are taken by her grin.

I remember she was awfully shy when we met, but it’s understandable since her family hadn”t been the kindest to her, the budding fame as a musician comes with a lot of criticism, and the natural submissiveness that calls out to me.

I know too much about her, but it’s for her own good. It’s my job to protect her when Cyrus can’t, and now his wife is bed-ridden more than before; I will gladly take his position.

It should have been mine, to begin with. There is no point in thinking like that when I have her where I want her to be—here, in my cabin and away from the prying eyes of public opinions, and vulnerable.

“Do you think Alana will be okay?” she asks, hesitant and scared for Cyrus’ wife.

“I’m sure she’s taken care of,” I answer, but honestly, I don’t care.

It’s not that I don’t want to care for the woman my closest friend married and loves with his entire life, but mentally, I can’t feel anything for the woman. I may have sympathy for her because of her condition, but we don’t have that personal connection for me to have the urge to help her.

There are wires in my head that aren’t connected well, and I have hidden them from the army for a while. No one knows the incapability of personal connections that I have struggled with since the beginning of my adolescence.

My parents brought the notion of me being an antisocial child and a stoic man to their graves. Whether it is that I didn’t care enough to tell them or that it was too troublesome, they believed I was a troubled child without psychological help.

Not even Cyrus knows about this untreatable condition that I have, and medication can only suppress the impulse to enact violence on innocent people in the city. I had the excuse to let out the insanity within me on the battlefield when I was deployed, but this violent side of me had been substituted with the possessive and controlling freak.

I have to keep Fia. She’s all I have left, and she needs me too. I know she does. She’s in danger, and I wasn’t there to protect her when she almost died in the damn car. I swear on my fucking life that I will punish everyone who had wronged her.

“Vito?” She waves her hand in front of my eyes.

I blink out of my thoughts and sigh, finding her pretty face twisting with concern as she stands in front of me. She’s too pretty, and her lips are begging for mine to take, but she’s shy and too na?ve to know what she wants.

Not yet, I tell myself.

How could someone have this amazing voice and not be a singer? I find that I am healthier when she talks to me; anything is fine as long as her voice reaches my ears. If she doesn’t want to talk, then her ability on the violin would do the trick until she wants to talk again.

It’s an addiction that I have under control. She doesn’t deserve an animal with no restrains on himself. I’ll get better, and she’ll find that I am the only one she needs.

For her safety, I need her in this cabin, and it’s also for me. I know I’ll have better control over myself if I can be around her to find what can help and what doesn’t help the tick.

I mentally scoff. The tick is the impulse to dominate her, the itch the mad love I feel for her, and the craving is the necessity of getting rid of every man in her life.

I can be anything she wants. I have the training from undercover assignments. I have the knowledge of roles that not many people have accomplished, and I have the willpower to change my entire character to fit her image of a husband.

Yes, I sneer in my head as her head tilts to the side at my silence. That title is mine.

“Are you sick?” she asks with a hand on my forehead.

Her toes strain on the hardwood flooring, and she drops back on her heel with a frown. She looks at her hand and puts it on her cheek to feel my temperature, but she’s inexperienced with taking temperatures through the difference of body heat.

My darling girl is inept, to put it nicely. That’s fine. Whatever she is lacking, she has me to become her strength.

“I’m fine. I’ll show you around.” I put my hand on the small of her back; the natural arch of her spine is tempting my hand to travel lower.

Not yet, I tell myself again. I can’t risk the chance of her being scared of me or letting that small seed of doubt bloom in her mind to eventually find the monster that lingers just inches below my skin.

“Okay,” she agrees with an enthusiastic nod of her pretty, little head.

The process of moving around the cabin is slow and a welcomed change to the silent rooms. Her exclaims about the beauty of my hard work are worth every damn nail that I slammed into my fingers or the injuries I have suffered for the cabin.

It’s worth it.

This will be our home for a while until I deem the city no longer a threat to her wellbeing, but I’m thinking of staying near this place for the rest of our lives.

She’ll be the safest here because I’ll have a day and night round of supervision on her. I don’t have to worry that the insane crime rate in the cities when I know everyone in this town, and I will find the bastard if anyone dares to put their unworthy hands on her.

“Oh!” She gasps, hands to her mouth as her eyes brighten. “Is that a treehouse?”

Her fingers point to a curtain she had opened. The darkness completely ate the trees and any sources of light other than the cabin. I close the curtains and shake my head as she pouts huffily.

“No, there’s no treehouse.” I steer her to another part of the cabin.

We have only explored the first floor, and she’s already overwhelmed with the new environment. A spark of pride trickles down my spine as she darts from room to room. It’s a cabin bigger than I had originally planned, but then this was an outlet for my need to hurt things.

If I were to self-diagnose, I would say that I meet one of the criteria for a psychopath. Violence has been a major problem I have had, but it’s being handled better than I had anticipated after being with Fia.

My darling is a barrier and the buffer to the rampant vehemence.

I snap out of my thoughts when her small hand closes around the doorknob of a room that holds my secret. I snatch her wrist in a bruising grip, an arm around her shoulder with the other hand hooked under her jaw with a crushing hold, and a sense of undesirable dread screams through my ears.

“This room is off-limits, Fia,” I emphasize with a tighter grip on her jaw.

She winces in pain, teary brown eyes so innocently asking me why I’m hurting her. And I’m not trying to, but I need her to know that this is for her own good. She’d be scared once she opens that door, and my plan will go to hell.

Through a psychological effect, this will only strengthen her curiosity, and humans are unpredictable. I will have to move everything in this room to another place before her interest kills a cat through the whispers of encouragement.

“Do you understand, darling girl?” I dig my fingers into her neck. The pulse skips with fear washing through her eyes.

Her cheeks burn with red at the name, and it triggers a crack in my discipline. She likes it when I call her that, and I’ll be sure to use that to my advantage.

“Yes, I understand.” Her meek voice doesn’t rise any higher. Her lashes flutter nervously, cheeks too flustered to stop the slight quiver in her muscles.

“Good girl,” I praise, and her instant reaction is satisfying.

She ducks her head when I release her. It doesn’t take a genius to know that she’s never had any genuine compliments; all the praises she got from her performance are simple words that are seen to be proper etiquette in a public setting.

Fia is a girl with not a lot of love from her past. Her damned parents, the absurd school system for boarding students, and the psychological torment of never being enough for her parents, all had left their mark on her.

She is more than enough, and I intend on showing her how much I care for her, but that’s going to have to wait until I find the solution to the stress she’s been under.

I take her to an empty room with simple furniture and a window facing the crystal blue lake. It’s the perfect vacation spot to be off the grid because it’s deep into the woods with a body of water for the disposal method.

I do hope it doesn’t come to that as it would be a shame to pollute something darling Fia will love.

“You can practice your violin in here.” I push her inside.

Her eyes are big and tentative as she takes in the simplicity of the room. I would have given her the other room, but it had a sliding door that allow access to the lake behind the cabin.

I don’t trust the environment just enough to give her the freedom to stay by herself in that room. The chances are slim, but an intruder can see her and want her for themself.

“Are you sure?” she asks, concern written on her face. “What if I’m too loud?”

“You won’t be,” I say as I rap my knuckle on the reinforced wood. “It’s soundproofed.”

She must be utterly lost as to why I would need a soundproofed room. Any person with a speck of common sense would notice something is wrong with my behavior from the beginning because it’s human nature to spot danger to them, but little darling Fia is all too trusting of a man who wants to control every aspect of her life.

It’s not fair for her to unknowingly step into a lion’s den, but life isn’t fair—though I can treat her as my darling or my princess.

It’s her choice because princesses do tend to get locked up in fairy tales. This isn’t a fairy tale. It’s more of a haunting nightmare that she”s unaware of.

Probably she never will, but she might surprise me. I can make her life into a fairy tale if she lets me, but I will be demanding absolute control.

The prince won’t be there to save her, and righteousness won’t defeat a vile sinner.

Being Prince Charming is glorified. I have had enough days of being the hero, but that would be unethical for me to say that I’m a hero when I merely used the deployment overseas as an outlet for control and curving my bloodlust.

I started with villain tendencies. Why not stay with them? They are a part of me that will never leave until a dramatic brain surgery shifts the balance of good and evil in my head back to equal.

“Oh, really?” She puts her tiny hand on her rounded lips. “I can practice all I want?”

“Yes, only if you do everything that I tell you to.” I extend my arm to bring her closer, so my hand clasps around the nape of her neck.

She foolishly lets me hold that vulnerable part of her, and the trust is making me drunk with despicable fondness.

Fia only agrees with what she thinks is being interpreted in her head, but when I mean everything, it’s every little thing I say.

There is order in here, in my life, and there will be more when it becomes our lives.

“I promise!” She slaps her hand over her heart with a grin.

It’s good enough for me before I take her out of the room and close it behind me. The next destination is the second floor, but it’s only a part of the cabin. She hurriedly skips up the stairs and peers with her neck extending.

A startled gasp slips from her plump lips as she turns to me with a smile. The brightness blinds me, but it’s a good thing that I have my cabin memorized before I fall and break a leg from her beautiful happiness.

“We’re sleeping here.”

She spins around too quickly, and her hair smacks her in the face. The stammering is adorable, but she needs to catch her breath before she chokes.

“We?” She wheezes, wide eyes and disbelief flickering across her face.

“There is only one bed, darling girl.”

In every room we’ve been to, there is no indication that it can be a bedroom. The cabin is supposed to imply simplicity, then I thought about making another room for her. I figure that being closer to her would allow me to keep a better eye on her.

I can’t do that when she’s sleeping a room away from me. I won’t know immediately if something is happening, and those are the odds that should not exist.

“I can take the floor or the couch,” I offer.

She stumbles up to me, hands holding my arm with hesitation. “N-no! You don’t have to, I can—”

“No. You are taking the bed.” I stop her rambling.

“It’s your home…” She trails off quietly.

I consider myself a man of selfishness and a bastard thoroughly. I like to exploit weaknesses, and Fia happens to be scared of troubling others with her concerns. She thinks they aren’t important, and it’s fine if she doesn’t address it, and it’s a way in for me.

“We’re sharing?” she whispers.

“Do you have another idea?” I ask back.

She shakes her head, ears red and cheeks redder. Fia balances her weight on the other foot, shoulders hunched over as she refuses to meet my eyes.

“Then, I want you to be clean and in bed within the next hour.” My command has her ass running down the stairs with a shout of conformation.

The bathroom door opens and slams shut on the floor, and a grin cracks open my calm fa?ade. She is too na?ve, and she’s another step into the lion’s den, but I believe she is closer to the mouth where she will be devoured if she’s not careful.

I’m counting on her gullibility.

When she comes out of the bathroom, flushed and steam coming off her pink skin, I want to grab her hips and kiss her plump lips. I surprise myself with the sheer determination to do the right thing for her.

I take a quick shower without wasting too much time thinking about the day. We have no outside communication, so there is no way to know what Cyrus and his wife are up to, but sooner or later, Fia will want to know how the chemotherapy is going.

I will think of a solution later, but now it is time to be closer to my darling than any man has ever been.

I walk back up the stairs in the darkness other than the night lamp illuminating the second floor. Fia is already in bed, head poking out from the white duvet that I have gotten for her soft little body.

She looks perfect on my bed, but I completed the picture by sliding in.

Her high-pitched squeak comes out, whether she wanted to or not. The embarrassment is clear on her face, but I keep a calm composure.

We lay in silent darkness as I turn the night lamp off. It’s a constant temperature in the cabin, but I had turned up the heating system for her since it is colder at night than in the morning. It’s worse when it’s in the woods and right in front of a lake.

Time ticks by and the moon above that shines through the window on the ceiling casting a shadow on her delicate features as her breathing slows down.

I want to test out the theory I have. If her home life is as disastrous as the media had reported and the information I had not exactly legally obtained, then I will be correct in my assumption.

“Sleep closer, darling.”

She murmurs, half asleep and too exhausted from today’s events.

“Okay, Daddy.”

A manic grin splits on my face.