Chapter 29. Florian
The white gauze around my knuckles was stark against the dark wood of Knox’s desk.
It felt tight, a throbbing reminder of my own stupidity, but the ache in my hand was nothing compared to the weight sitting in the pit of my stomach.
Dinner had been a lot of quiet chewing and the clinking of silverware, the silence not heavy, exactly, but anxious. Now, we were here. The study.
Knox’s expression was that terrifying calm that meant business.
"How is the hand?" he asked, his voice low.
"It throbs," I admitted, my voice small. I was leaning against the edge of the desk, tracing the grain of the wood with my good hand. "But it’s fine. You wrapped it good."
"Well," he corrected, moving toward me. "I wrapped it well."
He stopped a few feet away, invading my personal space in that way that usually made my knees weak. Tonight, it made my heart hammer. I knew what was coming. I craved it and dreaded it in equal measure.
"Now for your punishment," Knox stated. The change in his tone was subtle. A primal shiver raced down my back.
I swallowed hard, nodding. "Yes, Daddy."
"I want to be very clear, Florian," he continued, his dark eyes locking onto mine, pinning me in place. "This is not for the car. The Jaguar is an object. It is insured, it is metal, and it has no feelings. I do not care about the paint."
I bit my lip, the shame of the jagged white scar still fresh in my mind. "I know."
"This is for hiding it," he said, and there was the steel.
"For punching a wall instead of coming to me.
For driving a busted vehicle in a distressed emotional state, putting your life, my most precious thing, at risk.
I know he broke your heart again. I know the car is precious to you, and that you wanted to solve it.
We can fix it, baby, okay? But, for that, I need you to always be honest with me. "
"I was scared," I whispered, the excuse flimsy even to my own ears.
Knox's fingers moved to his waist. "We can't control what frightens us," he said, the metallic whisper of his belt buckle punctuating his words.
"But we always control whether we speak the truth or hide it.
" His dark eyes held mine as leather slid through loops with a soft hiss.
I swallowed hard. "When you hide things from me instead of letting me shield you, you put yourself at risk.
And I can't allow that to go uncorrected, Florian. Not when it concerns your safety."
He pulled the leather belt free from the loops with a long, sliding hiss. He folded it once, the sound of the leather snapping together making me flinch.
"Bend over the desk," he commanded. "Pants and briefs down to your knees."
I turned, my hands trembling as I fumbled with my button and zipper. I leaned forward, resting my weight on my forearms, mindful of my bandaged hand. It was funny how he wanted my hand not to hurt, but he didn't mind busting my ass.
I heard Knox step up behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself. My cock was hard even amidst this.
"I am punishing you because I need you to remember the meaning of our dynamic," Knox said. "Because I need you safe. Because you need to know that no matter how big the problem, we deal with it together. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Daddy," I choked out.
The first stripe landed high on my thighs, a sharp, stinging bite that made me gasp. It wasn't the dull thud of a hand; the belt was precise and hot.
It hurt as fuck. I barely stopped myself from screaming. I squirmed in place, tears already in my eyes.
"One," Knox counted.
I barely had time to process the sensation before the second crack echoed. This one landed squarely on the curve of my ass, a line of fire that seemed to sear through the nerves. I hissed through my teeth, my fingers curling against the edge of the desk.
“Hmphhhm,” was all I could muster.
"Two. You do not hide from me, Florian."
Crack.
"Three. We are partners. We share the burdens."
It hurt as fuck. I yelped, my mouth open but soundless for a moment, the air rushing straight out of my lungs.
The pain was exquisite, a line of flame that overlapped the others and made my whole body jerk against the desk.
I tasted salt, realized I was already crying.
I tried to breathe through it, to keep still, but the anticipation was worse than the belt itself.
The next swish in the air made me flinch before it even landed.
Crack.
"Four."
"Oh God," I moaned, shifting my hips, trying to escape the heat, but knowing I had to stay put.
Knox's hand settled on my back, warm and steadying. "Stay still, little one," he murmured, his thumb brushing a gentle arc against my skin. "Just breathe through it."
Crack.
"Five."
Tears began to leak from my eyes, dripping onto the polished wood. I bit down hard on my lower lip, desperate not to bawl outright.
Crack.
"Six." Knox said, the belt landing with a snap that made me cry out loud, a jagged sob ripping from my throat. It hurt so fucking much, it heated my whole body.
My cock was so fucking hard.
Crack.
"Seven. This is for the risk you took driving it with the mirror like that."
"I'm sorry," I sobbed, my forehead resting against the cool wood. "I'm so sorry, Daddy."
"I know, sweetheart," Knox said. “You're doing very well.”
Crack.
"Eight."
The pain was a white-hot haze now, blurring the edges of the room.
I floated in it. I didn't realize how much I was holding my breath until it escaped in a single, shuddering gasp.
The heat radiated across the skin, each blow stacking on the last until I didn't know where one stripe ended and the next began.
My knees wobbled, barely keeping me upright.
"Nnnnhhh," I groaned, unable to form words. My eyes burned, my face wet. I knew he'd only stop if I safeworded. And I wouldn't do that. Part of me, a crazy, irrational part, didn't want it to ever stop, no matter how bad it got.
Crack.
"Nine."
"Please, Daddy," I whimpered, not asking him to stop, just begging for... something. For him. For the end. For him to continue. I didn't know.
I felt his hand rest gently on my back. "Last one, sweet boy," he whispered, his voice suddenly tender. "Then we're done."
The final stroke was the hardest to take, not because he hit harder than before, just because it felt like too much, a searing line that crossed the others.
"Done," Knox said. The belt hit the desk with a heavy thud. He soothed me with his heavy hand caressing my back. “Shh, it's okay. You did so, so well.”
I stayed bent over, gasping for air, snot and tears mingling on my face. My backside throbbed in time with my heartbeat, a pulsating heat.
"Up," Knox coaxed gently. His hands were on my waist, helping me straighten.
I turned, stumbling, and fell into him. He caught me easily, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me tight against his chest. I buried my face in his sweater, the soft fabric instantly dampening with my tears. I sobbed, ugly and loud.
"Shh," Knox soothed, one hand cupping the back of my head, holding me secure. "I've got you. It's over."
"I messed up so bad," I mumbled into his chest, clutching at his sides.
"It's okay, sweetheart," Knox replied. He pulled back slightly, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from my cheeks. His expression was tender, the stern disciplinarian vanishing. "You took that beautifully, little one. I'm very proud of you."
I hiccupped, leaning into his touch. The sting was fading to a dull, warm ache. "It hurt."
"I know. That was the idea, wasn't it?" he murmured, kissing my forehead. I chuckled softly.
Knox guided me to the leather chair, positioning me carefully so I wouldn't have to put full weight on my tender ass.
I sat sideways, leaning against the armrest, while he settled close to me, his knee pressing against my thigh.
The adrenaline was receding, leaving behind a lethargic fuzziness that made me just want to sleep for a week.
But Knox wasn't done. I could see it in the set of his jaw, the way his fingers drummed once, silently, against his thigh before stilling.
“We need to discuss the future," he said. It wasn't a question.
I picked at a loose thread on the cuff of my sleeve, avoiding his gaze. "Can't we just watch a movie? My ass is on fire, Daddy."
"In a moment," he promised, reaching out to cover my hand with his, stilling my fidgeting. "But this is important. Finn escalated today. He damaged property, he threatened you, and he fled to avoid consequences. He is desperate, and desperate men are unpredictable."
I stiffened. "I can handle Finn. I've handled him my whole life."
"You survived him," Knox corrected gently.
"There is a difference. And today, you were nearly hurt because you were alone.
Kyle wasn't fast enough to actually help, and I can't allow that.
" He took a breath, his dark eyes serious.
"Starting tomorrow, you will have a security detail.
Permanent. Whenever you are off the grounds. "
I pulled my hand back, the warm glow of aftercare dimming slightly. "Security detail? That seems... excessive."
"Florian…"
"People will notice." I looked down at my lap. The protest felt hollow even as I voiced it, the memory of Finn's face twisted with rage still too fresh.
“No, they won't. They'll be discreet and won't stay too close to you. Also, this is not a request," Knox said, his voice calm but immovable. "I am not asking for your permission. I am informing you of the new protocol."
“But Daddy…”
"I cannot lose you," he said, his voice rough. "Do you understand that? This isn't about control. It isn't about checking your homework or seeing who you talk to. It is about the fact that today, a violent man held a rock three feet from your head, and I was miles away in a boardroom."
His grip tightened slightly.
"If he had swung at you instead of the car... if he had hit you..." Knox closed his eyes for a second, swallowing hard. "We cannot rely on luck anymore. I need to know you are safe."
The fight drained out of me. I looked at him and saw the lines of strain around his eyes.
"They'll be invisible?" I asked quietly.
"Ghosts," Knox promised. "They will wait in the car or watch from a distance. They're professionals. They won't interfere with your life."
I sighed, leaning my forehead against his chest.
"Okay," I whispered. "Okay. But if they wear sunglasses indoors like the Men in Black, I'm firing them."
Knox let out a breath, a long exhale of pure relief. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. "Deal. No sunglasses indoors."
"And they won't report to you about where I get lunch or if I skip a class? They'll tattle all the time, won't they?" I pushed, needing that last bit of autonomy.
"Their mandate is safety," Knox said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Unless you are eating lunch in a crack den or skipping class to join a fight club, I do not need to know the details."
I relaxed into him.
"You're obsessed with me," I mumbled into his shirt, a weak attempt at a joke.
"Completely," Knox agreed without hesitation. He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering there. "Thank you for understanding, little one. You have no idea how much better I will sleep."
"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled, but I hugged him back just as hard. "Now can we watch that movie? I think I deserve popcorn. And a Diet Coke. I know you say it's not healthy."
Knox chuckled, the sound rumbling against my chest. "I think that can be arranged."
***
The next morning, moving was HARD. I couldn’t do it without wincing. The welts from the belt had settled into a deep, bruised ache that reminded me of my place with every step. It also made me hard with every step. Go figure.
Knox found me in the kitchen after breakfast. "Come with me," he said, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
He guided me toward the door. I stiffened slightly as we approached the garage. The memory of the night before, skulking in the shadows, trying to hide the jagged scar on the Jaguar, was still sharp and sour in my mind.
"Daddy, I don't really want to see it yet," I admitted, hanging back. "I know you said it's just metal, but... this car really means the world to me, and I don't want to see it ruined."
"Trust me," Knox murmured, pushing the door open.
My eyes went automatically to the far corner where I had abandoned the car in shame.
I gasped.
The Jaguar was there. It sat gleaming under the lights. The blue paint was liquid perfection, deep and flawless.
I walked toward it, stunned. I reached out, my fingers hovering over the driver's side door, searching for the jagged white canyon Finn had carved into the metal.
There was nothing. Smooth, cool glass and paint met my fingertips. The mirror was whole, pristine, reflecting my bewildered face without a single crack.
"How?" I whispered, looking back at Knox. He stood near the workbench, hands in his pockets, looking pleased with himself. "It's been... twelve hours. How did you get it fixed so quickly? It looked like a shark had bitten it."
Knox smiled. "I have a very good relationship with a specialist body shop in the city." He shrugged, as if moving heaven and earth was a minor administrative task. "Some problems are easier to solve than others, Florian, like I told you."
I circled the car, shaking my head. It was magic. It was money, yes, but it felt like magic. It erased the violence of yesterday, wiped the slate clean just as effectively as the punishment had wiped my conscience.
"It's perfect," I said, running my hand along the fender. "Like nothing ever happened."
Knox moved then, crossing the concrete to stand beside me. His expression sobered, the playfulness vanishing. He reached out, tilting my chin up so I had to look at him.
"The car can always be fixed, Florian," he said, his voice dropping to that serious, intense register that made my toes curl. "I can buy a thousand Jaguars. I can repaint them a thousand times."
His thumb brushed my cheekbone.
"It's you I can't replace," he whispered. "You are the only thing in this garage, in this house, in my life, that is truly one of a kind. If you are broken... I... I don't know what I'd do."
“I won't break, Daddy,” I said, laughing now, so happy, and so relieved. Everything was new and good again. “You're the only one that can break me, and only in a good way.”
He smiled, wide, his eyes warm.