Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
I shouldn’t have promised her any bed she wanted, but that was the only way I could pull her attention from the glittery costumes at the strip club. She was instantly enamored, as was I when Lucia twirled around the pole last week.
I massage the guilt-induced headache forming behind my eyes. I could have taken Camille home myself, but there was too much desperation in Lucia’s eyes when she scrounged for every tip during my hour-long commute to Fenicottero Rosa to push aside. I won’t mention the shame that burned through her retinas when I covered her up after our hard and fast fuck or guilt will eat me alive.
I didn’t cover her up because I was ashamed of her.
It was to hide the hickeys I’d left on her neck.
Besides, Camille is safe at the compound. No one will touch her there, not if they want to remain breathing, and the knowledge frees me to spend the night working on Lucia’s objections.
It’s clear she cares for Camille. The hope in her eyes when I called her name would have tugged even the evilest man’s heartstrings. She’s as smitten with Camille as Camille is with her, so why is she pretending that becoming a permanent part of her life is a disservice?
I’m stolen the chance to contemplate further when a shadow appears behind Valentina. When Camille realizes who Valentina is talking to, she climbs onto her lap. Her dark hair is damp and her pajamas are crinkled, but her eyes are bright and questioning.
Since I’m too overwhelmed to sort through the mess for a suitable explanation for a four-year-old, I remember that I’m her protector and her father. “It’s time for bed, young lady. You’re already thirty minutes past schedule.”
Her bottom lip drops into a pout, but her slow crawl up the bed exposes her exhaustion. She woke up at four, excited for her soccer tournament, and played hard. We were on our way home after celebrating her team’s hat trick of wins with ice cream when I got a call that one of the traps I’d set to catch Lucia had paid off.
The surveillance image of “Lulu” was grainy but unmistakable. My cock hardened in an instant, and Camille almost squealed with excitement.
Hope to hear her speak again made me go in a little hard. I shouldn’t have started with a job offer, but since I didn’t know why she fled last week, it seemed the better choice.
I could never be accused of being shy, but after wasting almost five years chasing a ghost, I’m also not the most confident prick in the room.
Only Matteo is cocky enough to pull that off.
As Valentina pulls down Camille’s pink floral bedspread, my daughter’s eyes lock with mine through Valentina’s phone. She doesn’t speak—regretfully—but I hear her demands loud and clear.
Story?
Leaning back in my chair, I loosen my tie. The renovation crew left ten minutes ago, so all I hear now are my whistling breaths and the occasional hungry rumble from the apartment next to mine.
“It’s late.” Never one to disappoint, I add, “So we better keep it short.”
Camille settles against Valentina, watching me with wide, expressive eyes. Her silence doesn’t hide her feelings. She wears her heart on her sleeve, as does my new neighbor.
“Once, a long time ago, in a land far, far, far away from here,” I begin, “there was a dancer who protected a princess from a scary fire-breathing dragon.”
Camille’s mouth parts. She is fully invested in my story.
“The dancer was brave… and a little stubborn.” My eyes drift to the new entryway when a muffled groan sounds from my neighbor’s apartment. “And even though she didn’t know it at the time, she was exactly what the little girl needed, because although the dragon was only trying to protect the princess, he’d only ever lived with other dragons, so he didn’t know what to do.”
Camille rubs her palms together as a soft sigh of happiness vibrates her lips. She’s so easy to love. Too easy.
“He could have gotten mad, but his daddy dragon taught him that there’s no smoke without fire, so instead of using his big fiery breath to scare everyone into doing what he wanted, he drank so much water that his tummy ached for days.” I keep my focus on my daughter but project my voice toward the new, unpainted arch separating my apartment from Lucia’s. “Do you know what he did with all that water, Camille?”
Laughter barrels out of me when Camille’s big dragon exhale covers Valentina’s phone screen with spit. Her release of imaginary water whistles through my phone speaker, almost drowning out Lucia’s soft sigh.
“That’s right. He used his big protective belly for good instead of bad… which of course means both the princess and the dancer climbed onto his back and rode to Happily Ever After. The end.”