Nine #4
His voice drops to a deadly whisper that makes the hairs on my body stand on end. “I eat all of them for breakfast, Strawberry. They’re all tiny demons running around hell, and I’m their fucking king. No one dares to cross me. No one.”
For a moment, as I stare into his pitch-black eyes, I swear I can see the flames of hell burning around him.
As if he notices the effect he has on me, he releases my chin, glances once more at Aurora, then walks out of the room.
***
Aurora’s sprawled out on her cute little blue couch, watching cartoons.
I’m tidying up her room. A cozy space with cream-colored walls, blue curtains, and a ceiling dotted with stars that glow in the dark.
A few white clouds hang above her bed, and a small yellow tent sits in the corner, where she tucks in her dolls to “sleep.”
I pick up her Elsa doll from the floor, and she turns her head. “Mama, Elsa needs to sleep.”
That’s my cue to put Elsa in the tent. I follow orders and carry the rest of her things to the walk-in closet, which is about the size of her old hotel room.
One side is filled with Aurora’s colorful, puffy dresses; the other, stacked with toys.
I glance at the row of frilly outfits Maxim’s been splurging on.
These past few weeks, he hasn’t come home once without bringing her a gift. Those little presents have slowly but surely drawn them closer. I noticed right away. It wasn’t just hard for Aurora to get used to him. For Maxim, stepping into the role of a father was a challenge too.
Even after a month, I haven’t seen him hug her, but he’s clearly trying. He’s so focused on her, it’s like I don’t even exist. From the second he walks in the door until the moment she goes to bed, his entire attention is on Aurora.
They play tea party together now, and the fact that Aurora puts Maxim in the same category as her sweet stuffed bears means she’s getting used to his affection…
and his presence. She’s not shy around him anymore.
Sometimes she even walks up to him on her own and pours him imaginary tea from her little plastic teapot and cups.
Maxim built her an entire playroom inside the house and even a small amusement park in the yard. Aurora went down the tiny plastic slide so many times, laughing so hard, that she eventually fell asleep from exhaustion.
He even built her a cute little playhouse in one corner of the yard with his own hands, earning himself one of Aurora’s high-pitched squeals of excitement.
I don’t have much experience with having a father. I might not know what makes a good one, but I sure as hell know what a bad one looks like, and Maxim isn’t that.
I didn’t like the idea of him being part of her life at first, but this past month has proved something I never expected: he could be a great dad. That truth has calmed my heart so much, the thought of leaving has slowly faded.
I can’t be selfish enough to take that away from her.
A man who didn’t even know he had a daughter a month ago has since flipped his whole life upside down just to make sure she’s safe and cared for.
I hear his voice calling Aurora from the bottom of the stairs.
Before I can step out of the closet, she bolts past me, giggling with excitement.
I smile as she carefully grabs the handrail and toddles down the carpeted stairs, one at a time, until she reaches Maxim, who’s waiting at the bottom with a grin, and his hands hidden behind his back.
She makes it to the last step and tilts her head all the way back to look up at him. “What’d you get me?”
Maxim raises an eyebrow and leans forward. “You were supposed to say hello first.”
“Hello. What’d you get me?”
He pulls out a purple teddy bear from behind his back and holds it up in front of his face. I swear, this must be the tenth bear he’s bought her.
Aurora snatches it with glee and turns to me, bouncing with excitement. “Mama, purple!”
I walk down the stairs, smiling. “What do you say?”
She hugs the bear and chirps, “Thank you, Maxim!”
It’s the first time Aurora calls Maxim by name. The spark of joy in him falters for a second, but moments later, he reaches out and gently strokes her shiny curls.
I mull over my words, then make the big call. “If you want...she can call you Dad.”
For the first time in a month, his gaze turns intense, and suddenly, my skin feels too tight. What’s wrong with my body, always pulling toward this man? Does he feel the same pull from me?
He turns, standing right in front of me. “That’s your call.”
I don’t get it. “What?”
His dominant tone returns. “Just to be clear, you’ve got a better chance of outrunning a bullet than getting away from me.
But I won’t lie; your constant plotting to bolt, lumping me in with your father, trying to cut me out of my daughter’s life, it gets under my skin.
It might sound crazy, but if by some miracle your dumb plan works one day, I want Aurora to lose a friend, not her father. ”
He grabs my arms, his voice firm. “Look at me, Ava. Get to know the real Maxim. Only when you’re certain I’m nothing like that so-called father of yours, when you’re sure I can be a good dad to your girl, when you’re ready to put down roots here without tricks or lies—then tell her to call me Dad.”
A spark ignites in my heart, burning away the last scraps of doubt and cynicism.
This man, built like pure muscle and violence, who could kill with his bare hands or take anything he wants with muscle or a gun, is leaving it up to me to decide if his daughter calls him Dad.
I lift my head, meeting his dark eyes, the same eyes I see in Aurora’s face every day.
Each breath I take douses the fire of my resolve to hate him. How can a man who’s saved me time and time again, who treats my daughter like a princess, be bad? He can’t. I’m sure of it. His gaze locks on me, and he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, sending a jolt straight to my core.
I place my hands on his warm ones, about to speak, when Aurora’s voice cuts through the electric tension.
“Mama, Bear’s hungry!”
Maxim lets me go, and I, dazed, scoop Aurora up, head to the kitchen, and settle her in the bear-shaped chair. I’d already set the table. Maxim joins us, sitting across from me. Spaghetti’s the only food Aurora eats without a fuss.
I drop my fork, unable to eat, and turn to her. “Sweetie, would you like Maxim to be your daddy?”
The forks in Aurora’s and Maxim’s hands freeze at the same time. He gives me a stunned look, then softens, his eyes fixed on Aurora. Her wide, curious eyes dart between us, landing on Maxim.
“Daddy?” she murmurs hesitantly.
Maxim gently caresses her tiny fist and smiles. “Would you like me to be your daddy, baby?”
She eyes him warily for a moment. I stroke her cheek, explaining, “Like Gabriel and Luca have a daddy, Maxim could be yours.”
This time it clicks, and she nods eagerly. “I’d like that.”
Maxim exhales, calm and slow, then lifts her tiny hand, spaghetti strands and all, and kisses it. A long, tender kiss.
But when he lifts his head and looks at me again, there’s no softness left.
His eyes burn.
It’s the same fierce, primal look from the night he pinned me down and planted his seed deep inside me—raw lust, carnal hunger, and the ruthless promise that he will take me again, harder, soon.