Chapter 45
Asher
Three entire days and nights of her family here. I loved it for Sayla—but the sister? The sister was the fucking devil incarnate. She knew it too and relished every second of it. No wonder her fiancé hadn’t come. Callum was probably at home with his feet up, exhaling for the first time in years.
Even now.
Saying goodbye.
Whispering in Sayla’s ear, kissing her cheek, then pulling her in for another hug as if she hadn’t seen her in decades rather than approximately eleven minutes.
Not only had she spent every night in Sayla’s bed, she had managed to cock-block me in my own home. Three nights. In a row. In a house I owned outright.
“So lovely to meet you, Mr Kersey,” she said before executing a little curtsy with the precision of someone who had been annoying people her entire life.
Even as she turned I heard her snickering.
I almost followed her to give her a piece of my mind—but Sayla’s dad appeared and took my hand, shaking it with the kind of vigour that communicated everything words couldn’t.
I reiterated my promise to both her parents.
Even Elias was a decent lad with proper manners, which made the Maya situation all the more inexplicable.
I gasped. The thought was horrendous.
Could her genes infiltrate our child?
I already had one failure.
In a panic I glanced at Sayla—but she was waving her family off. Serene and satisfied.
No. Our children would be fine.
Sayla was an angel compared to Maya.
Poor Wilson—he’d borne the brunt of her.
I glanced back at the house. He stood in the reception window at a safe distance. Probably traumatised.
That said it all.
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Sayla yawned again.
This was the knock-on effect of the devil.
Not only had she kept Sayla away from me, but she’d managed to disrupt her perfect routine.
Eating and sleeping on time meant anchoring her circadian rhythm—allowing her autonomic nervous system to shift from fight-or-flight to rest-and-digest. Three days of Maya had undone weeks of careful work.
I knew this because I’d done the research. I hadn’t turned into a Daddy Dom overnight. Every part of my approach had been meticulous—considered, studied, built around what Sayla specifically needed rather than what the dynamic typically demanded.
Maya had torpedoed it in seventy-two hours.
To be fair, she’d also held her sister for three nights straight and made her laugh until she couldn’t breathe.
I supposed I could forgive her.
I wouldn’t tell her that.
“Bedtime,” I murmured, pulling the blanket off us as she stretched and yawned again.
“But it’s only eight.”
Her eyes were on the clock.
“And what time did you go to sleep last night?” I asked, sitting upright on the couch before lifting her with me.
“Uh. Maybe around two or three?” Her head turned. “We’d been catching up.”
“Bed,” I said, standing and taking her hands.
Her eyes rested on my crotch for a moment before she glanced up.
“I know what would help me sleep.”
“No chance. You need to rest,” I chuckled.
“But Daddy—” a dramatic pause. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Princess, but your wellbeing always comes first.”
Her lips tightened. Not impressed. She stood anyway.
We went upstairs.
She brushed her teeth and used the bathroom.
Changed into her frog pyjamas.
Stomped across the room and dove headfirst into bed, snatching Pandora and stuffing her beneath the covers.
Her tantrum was so endearing that I decided to push her a little further.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Eyes flashed. A gasp of outrage.
“You’re a bad Daddy,” she mumbled under her breath—but her hands came to rest on the edge of the blue covers.
I smiled and climbed into bed, switching the lamp off.
My head hadn’t touched the pillow before she and Pandora were snuggling into my chest.
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I stared at the response to the divorce papers, surprised that any decent solicitor had drawn it up for him.
The viciousness of the legalese shouldn’t have shocked me.
His aim was to stall court proceedings and drag out the litigation for as long as possible—bleed Sayla dry of patience and hope she’d capitulate before it ever reached a judge.
He didn’t know her very well.
This was a scenario I’d been prepared for.
After speaking to my solicitor I emailed Gabriel’s legal team documentation from Dr Montgomery’s report, previous details of his escapades and confirmed that we had witnesses ready to provide testimonies.
The paper trail was extensive. The kind that didn’t disappear no matter how good his solicitor was.
Sayla signed anything I put in front of her without question.
In that sense she really should be more like her sister. I winced at the thought immediately. No—she was perfect as she was. Suspicious of frog breeders perhaps, but perfect. This was precisely why I was here. To navigate the games wealthy people played so she never had to learn them herself.
Gabriel had moved on and was already dating his next victim.
The PI would send her an anonymous warning. It wouldn’t work—it never did. Demanding that Sayla sign a prenup didn’t dissuade her. Gabriel was charming, patient and had spent years perfecting the art of becoming indispensable before the mask slipped. By the time it did, leaving felt impossible.
I knew that better than anyone.