Chapter Fifteen Daniel
Chapter Fifteen
Daniel
The soft hum of my BMW fills the silence as my driver pulls up with it, waiting for me to get in. But I don’t move. Not yet. Not until Jennifer arrives. I told her where and when to be ready—now it’s her move to actually be here.
I should be focused on the meeting ahead, thinking of what to discuss with Yuri Volkov, but instead my mind keeps circling back to her—what she’ll look like, if she’ll follow through, if I’ll regret this.
If we will regret this. We both know we’re not meant to do this, we both know this is only a temporary solution until I know she won’t tell anybody about…
All of this. If I’m being honest, I have no fucking clue when to let her leave.
The worst part of it is that Mary is getting used to being with Enzo.
And both Jennifer and I know it’s wrong for them to get close only for us to divide them again. I’ve heard Mary tell her mom Enzo is her first and only friend. And splitting them apart would break my heart. Sure, they could meet, but… Fuck.
Jennifer is getting used to me. Mary is used to Enzo. And I’m getting used to both.
This is wrong. Absolutely wrong. So, why the fuck does it feel so good? Why does it feel peaceful?
Besides, both Jennifer and I know her daughter shouldn’t grow up here, surrounded by a bunch of men like me. However, I don’t know what else to do.
We’re starting to enjoy something that we’re not supposed to.
And while I know it’s wrong, it feels so right.
A bunch of different thoughts keep violating and torturing my head every single night.
How to end this. When to end this. How to treat them.
What to do next. It’s too much sometimes. It fucks me up.
However, I actually enjoyed myself yesterday. I had way too much fun picking out a dress and a pair of heels for her. I couldn’t help myself. Spoiling Jennifer gives me a weird sense of satisfaction.
If I take a woman which I, at least sort of, know to a meeting with Volkov for the first time, I need her to look divine. Breathtaking. I need her to look as if I’d eat her up the second we’d get home.
Not that I’d actually do it, just…
I want this meeting to be special. Unlike the other countless times I’ve met with Volkov, I’m not bringing a whore this time. I’m bringing a gorgeous, beautiful, smart and educated woman.
My thoughts get interrupted—
The sharp sound of heels clicking against the garage floor slices through the silence. I turn my head towards the direction the sound’s coming from, and immediately, I’m hit by a bunch of feelings and definitely sinful thoughts I have no idea how to handle.
Pride, protectiveness, something that feels dangerously close to admiration—all mixed together and fucking me up inside.
For the first time in my life, I’m going to be walking into one of these meetings with someone who’s not just another warm body I don’t care about.
She’s different. She’s mine. Not in the way everyone here might think, but in a way that matters more. She’s here because I wanted her to be. Because tonight, I don’t want to show up with a nameless, faceless whore on my arm. I wanted her. Only her.
I don’t care that she doesn’t belong to me, technically. All I know is that I asked her to come with me. And she agreed without hesitating. Without being terrified. Because she knows she’s safe with me. She knows I’d do anything to protect her. Fuck, I’d kill any man trying to harm her.
My gaze is glued to her like she’s a fucking magnet. The way her body moves in that tight black satin dress—the one I carefully picked out for her—has my thoughts spiraling.
Satin. Soft, smooth, expensive.
I didn’t care how much it cost; the moment I saw it, I knew it would cling to her curves like a second skin. And damn, I was right. It highlights every dip and curve, teasing me just enough to drive me insane.
Then there are the heels, those deep blue stilettos I also insisted on. I can tell she’s still getting used to them by the slight hesitance in her step, but somehow that only makes her look sexier, more real, more... vulnerable. Fuck. She’s so goddamn hot. And what makes it even better—she knows.
The combination of her dark, almost black, glossy hair cascading down her shoulders and those piercing blue eyes fits the dress and the heels so perfectly, it’s like they were made for her.
And then I catch it—the scent. That familiar floral sweetness mixed with a hint of warmth and musk.
Miss Dior. The perfume I bought for her, the one I told myself was just a gift to show my appreciation for her work.
But now, as it lingers in the air around her, it feels like it was made to torment and torture me all night. It’s her scent now. All hers.
And I wish I could drown in it.
All in one, she’s a goddess. A fucking masterpiece.
And yet, she’s off-limits. I know I’m not supposed to think of her like this.
This isn’t a date; this is a temporary situation.
The only reason she agreed to join me tonight was to get some time off from the job I gave her.
She’s here because I asked her, because I wanted her to have a break—not because I wanted to torture myself with the sight of her like this.
Jesus. Every thought I’m having right now is too inappropriate to say out loud.
Instead of telling her how badly I want to slide that satin off her shoulders to see the bare curves and her perfect tits beneath it, I settle for something much safer.
Something I don’t mean nearly as casually as it sounds.
"You look great in that dress."
“Thanks, Daniel…” She giggles, looking down at her feet before looking back up to me again. “Honestly, I was worried of feeling a little out of place, but I think with this outfit, I’ll feel a lot more confident.”
I smile, though it’s hard to hide the fact that, deep down, I’d rather have her in a situation where she’s trembling, not because of those heels, but because of something far more personal.
“My goal was to make you look like my woman. And I’d say I succeeded pretty damn well.”