Chapter 28 Harrison #2
He took a slow, deliberate moment to adjust his stance behind her. The tail of the tawse brushed lightly over her seat—a ghost of a sensation that made her jump, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against the table.
"You’re going to count these for me," he said, his tone leveling out into a calm, authoritative command. "Clearly, and without skipping. If you lose your place, or if you try to minimize the truth of what you're feeling, we’ll double the number. Do you understand what I expect from you?"
"Yes... yes, Daddy," she sobbed into the wood.
The first strike on her bottom was a heavy, explosive crack. The split leather of the tawse wrapped around the curves of her seat, delivering a stinging, biting heat.
"One," she choked out, her heels kicking instinctively against the air.
"Stay still."
Thwack.
"Two... please, Daddy, two!"
He was relentless. He moved the tawse with surgical precision, ensuring every inch of her seat was covered. Every blow was a physical manifestation of his authority.
"Three," she wailed, her fingers digging so hard into the table that her nails threatened to snap. "I'm sorry! I don't want to be in charge, I promise!"
"Then prove it. Take the rest of these like a good girl."
He increased the pace, the leather whistling through the air with a terrifying regularity. The heat on her bottom was becoming a singular, throbbing roar. By the time he reached ten, her entire backside was a deep, angry crimson, the skin stretched tight and radiating heat.
"Who handles the restaurant, Kelsey?" he asked, his voice low and vibrating against her spine as he leaned over her.
"You... you do," she sobbed, her voice raw.
"And who do you belong to?"
"I'm yours. I'm Daddy's girl. Only Daddy's."
Harrison let the tawse fall to his side. He reached out, his large, warm hand covering the burning skin of her seat. He didn't rub it—not yet. He just let her feel the weight of his palm, a grounding anchor after the storm.
"Good girl."
He pulled her back from the table, not letting her feet touch the floor. He sat down in the heavy armchair at the head of the table, pulling her onto his lap so she was straddling him, her face buried in his neck.
"Shh," he whispered, his hand coming up to stroke her hair, his other hand settling firmly on her lower back. "The owner is gone. I've got you back now."
Kelsey clung to him, her fingers knotting into his shirt. The fire on her skin was intense, but for the first time since he’d left that morning, her mind was quiet.
"I'm sorry I lied," she whispered into his skin. "I was so scared you'd be disappointed."
"I was disappointed," Harrison said honestly, his voice stern but lacking the lethal edge from before. "But lying only makes the lesson harder, sweetheart. You don't go behind my back to find a fix that’s only going to break you again."
He kissed her forehead, his hold tightening. "You aren't a boss in this house, Kelsey. You're a little girl who needs to be looked after. And as long as you're under my roof, I am going to make sure that’s exactly what happens."
Finally, he nudged her chin up, looking into her blown-wide, hazel eyes. "You’re going to delete the management apps from your personal laptop tonight. If I catch you crunching numbers or drafting schedules behind my back again, we won't be having a conversation about it. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Daddy," she whispered, her voice finally containing the total, unreserved surrender he demanded.
"Good. As for the restaurant, you’ve had your four days of total silence.
I know you can’t stay away forever, but you aren't going back to being the girl who does everyone's job for them.
Starting tomorrow, you are going to call Savannah.
You will tell her that you are available for exactly three hours a day—from two until five—to handle the essentials.
The rest of the time, the phone stays with me.
You don't check the cameras from bed, you don't fret over invoices at dinner, and you don't 'just stop by' to see the rush. "
Kelsey’s breath hitched. It was a compromise, but a firm one. Three hours was enough to keep the engine of Seven Stones running, to handle the high-level decisions only she could make, but it wasn't enough to let her drown in the minutiae again.
"Three hours?" she asked softly, her mind already trying to calculate how much she could squeeze into that window.
"Three hours," Harrison confirmed, his grip tightening possessively as if he could feel her brain starting to whir again. "And if Savannah tells me you’re trying to stay on longer, or if I see you spiraling into that frantic, vibrating mess again, those three hours get cut. You’re going to learn how to be the owner, Kelsey, not the slave. You’re going to spend the rest of your day being my little girl. Understood?"
"Understood, Daddy."
He stood up, keeping her cradled against his chest. He reached over, grabbed the device from the table, and walked to the sideboard. He opened a drawer, dropped the laptop inside, and locked it with a key he tucked into his pocket.
"You aren't needed at Seven Stones twenty-four hours a day, Kelsey," he said, his voice final as he carried her toward the stairs. "You're only needed here. And you're going to spend the next week learning exactly how to balance the two."