Chapter 4
The video posts that evening and it’s one of my favorites to date. The soft, romantic montage of winter flowers and snow-dusted paths set to a trending audio about finding magic in unexpected places gets half a million views in the first hour.
The comments are the usual mix of heart emojis and requests to know what filter I'm using and people asking where this is so they can visit. I respond to a few, like a few more, and try to ignore the way my stomach keeps fluttering every time I think about Ty. We’ve spoken a few times on the phone but the conversations lack the depth I’d been hoping for.
It’s safe to say I’m smitten. I want to ask him if he’s a Daddy, if he knows about littles and power exchange. The moment hasn’t been right.
I'm curled up on my couch, laptop balanced on my knees, when my phone buzzes.
Ty: You tagged the location.
My fingers freeze over the keyboard and I pick up the phone.
Me: It's a public garden. You told me to go there.
Ty: I told you to go there. Not to broadcast it to three million people.
Something defensive rises in my chest.
Me: That's literally my job.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Ty: Can I call you?
My heart rate kicks up.
Me: Yes.
I close my laptop and walk to my bedroom. I settle into my bed and the phone rings less than ten seconds later. I answer on the second ring, trying to sound casual and probably failing.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” he says, and even through the phone his voice has that deep, controlled, with an edge tone that makes my skin prickle. “We need to talk about boundaries.”
I pull my knees up to my chest. “Okay.”
“I'm not trying to control your career,” he continues. “Or tell you how to do your job. But there's a difference between creating content and putting yourself at risk. I’m a stickler for safety, little girl.”
Little girl.
I ignore the phrase and what it does to my insides. “The gardens are safe. You said so yourself.”
“The gardens are fine. Tagging yourself in real-time while you're still there is not. I saw the story you posted earlier today. It was live, with the location tag on.”
I bite my lip. “I've been doing this for years, Ty. I know how to stay safe.”
“Do you?” His voice is gentle but firm. “Because from where I'm sitting, you've built a public profile that makes you trackable, predictable, and vulnerable. And you do it every single day without thinking twice. A fan could find you… You are a beautiful woman, Madi. I hate thinking about what could happen. Last night, you posted a video on Snapchat and your location is on. It told me the exact address to where you are staying. That’s dangerous.”
The words sting because they're true. Because I have been thinking about it more lately. Being an influencer comes with some risks. Like, the weird messages, the comments that cross lines, the occasional follower who shows up at events without being invited.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask quietly.
“I want you to delay your posts by at least an hour after you leave a place. I want you to scrub metadata from your photos. I want you to stop announcing your schedule in advance.”
“That's a lot of rules.”
“They're not rules, Madison. They're safety precautions. There's a difference.”
I'm quiet for a moment, processing. “And if I don't agree?”
“Then I respect your choice,” he says immediately. “And I step back. But that doesn't mean I won't worry about you. And, if this goes somewhere, and I hope it does, you won’t have the choice to agree or not agree on safety rules.”
The honesty of it, and the vulnerability beneath the authority, cracks something open in my chest.
“Can I ask you something?” I say.
“Anything.”
“Why do you care? We barely know each other.”
He's silent for long enough that I wonder if the call dropped.
“Because I know what it's like to be exposed. To have people looking for weaknesses. And I know what happens when they find them. I’ve seen evil in this world, and I don’t want you to experience it yourself.
” The weight in his voice tells me there's a story there. Something painful. Something personal. “I think we both felt the chemistry between us when we first met. It’s like souls that recognize each other. There’s something about you.
This magnetic feel, this pull towards you…
Sometimes, you just know. It’s not logical.
But, I know. You’re meant to be mine, Madi Baby. I need my girl to be safe.”
“I'm careful,” I say softly.
“I know you are. But careful isn't always enough.”
“So, you want to protect me?”
“Yes. Need might be a better word.”
“And if I let you?”
Another pause. When he speaks again, it’s quieter, “Then I'd take that responsibility seriously. Very seriously.”
My chest tightens with something that feels suspiciously like hope. Like possibility. Like the beginning of something I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for but want anyway.
“I have a book club meeting tomorrow night,” I say, changing the subject because I need a moment to breathe.
His voice warms slightly. “The naughty one?”
Heat floods my cheeks. “You remembered that.”
“I remember everything you tell me, Madison.”
That should not be as attractive as it is. Finding a man who not only listens to me, but actually hears what I say? Oh, yes. Incredibly attractive.
“We're reading a Daddy Dom romance,” I continue, then immediately want to die. Why did I say that? Why am I like this?
But Ty just makes this low sound, it’s not quite a laugh and not quite a growl, a mixture of the two. A deep, rumbly noise back in his throat. “Are you, now?”
“It's for the plot,” I say quickly.
“Of course it is.”
“The genre exploration. Literary analysis. You know.”
“Madison.”
“Yes?”
His voice drops, taking on that quality that makes my thighs clench. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
I pull the blanket up to my chin like that will somehow protect me from this conversation. “Maybe.”
“Then tell me directly. No games.”
My heart hammers against my ribs. “I think I might want what those characters have.”
The silence stretches. “Have you thought about what that would mean? Really thought about it? Not in an ‘it’s fun to roleplay in the bedroom but what it would look like in real life’ type of way?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don't know.” I swallow hard. “Have you? I mean… Have you ever heard of… I guess I’m trying to—"
“Madi Baby, stop talking,” he interrupts. “Yes, I’ve heard about it. Yes, I know what it is. Yes, I am a Daddy. And damn it, I’ve thought about being your Daddy every day since I met you.”
Oh. I’m rendered speechless.
His voice softens. “But this kind of relationship isn't something we rush into, sweetheart. This requires trust. Communication. Very clear boundaries and expectations.”
The word sweetheart lands like a caress. “I can do that.”
“I know you can. But I need you to be sure. Because once we start down this path, I don't do casual.”
“What do you do?”
“Committed,” he says simply. “All in. No half measures.”
My breath catches. “That's intense.”
“Yes. And if that's not what you want—if you need space or time or something different—I need you to tell me now.”
“I don't need space,” I say, surprised by how certain I sound. “I need you to stop asking me. I'm not going to run. I told you at the coffee shop, I told you last night and I’m telling you for the last time, I want you to move closer not farther away.”
“Fair enough.”
We're both quiet for a moment. I can hear him breathing and I wonder what he looks like right now. If he's pacing. If he's sitting down. If he's as affected by this conversation as I am.
“Enjoy your book club tomorrow,” he says finally. “Have fun. Think about what you want.”
“What if I already know?”
“Then we'll talk this weekend. Face to face. No distractions.”
“Okay.”
“And, Madison?”
“Yeah?”
“I'm proud of you for being honest. That takes courage.”
My throat tightens. “Thank you.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart. Go to bed now and behave yourself until we talk again.”
“I'm trying,” I whisper.
“I know. That's what makes this so much sweeter.”
The call ends, leaving me sitting in the dark with my heart racing and my entire future feeling like it just shifted into sharp, thrilling focus.
I pull up the group chat.
Me: I think I'm falling for him.
Holly: I know. We've been watching.
Lily: FINALLY SHE ADMITS IT.
Chloe: Okay but also??? This is beautiful??? And healthy??? And COMMUNICATION?????
Maya: When's the wedding?
Me: We haven’t even been on a date yet…
Amber: Give it a week.
Emily: Give it three days.
Holly: Give it until this weekend when you have that face-to-face talk and he does the thing.
Me: What thing??
Holly: You'll know it when it happens. Trust me.
I set my phone down and stare at the ceiling, smiling like an idiot.
Because Holly's right.
I have absolutely no idea what I'm getting into.
But I've never been more certain that I want to find out.