Chapter 3

This is the first I hear of any of this. Sure, keeping her away from boys has always been a top priority, as I would assume it is for any father in my boss’s position. He doesn’t want her gallivanting around, wasting money on parties and drugs like some kids in her position tend to do—kids who sleep their way through their peers. He expects more from her than that.

But it's only so he can secure the highest possible return when he marries her off.

“Well, I suppose you'll want to get to bed before packing up your room… unless you want some fun with Melissa here?” Mr. Morelli smiles as he gestures toward the girl on the floor. “She might not be untouched, but she likes to play the part, and she's tight enough to make you believe it,” he chuckles.

I glance at the girl, who grins at me, her eyes alight with anticipation. She thrusts out her chest, attempting to entice me, but there's nothing she can do to pique my interest. Only one woman gets me aroused, and if her father knew, he wouldn't be sending me to Blackthorn.

“Thank you for the offer, but like you said, I better head to bed. Big day tomorrow.”

“Of course. See, this is why I trust you with Mia. You don't let your desires lead you like most men.” If only he knew.

He returns to his desk, the place where he spends so much time. Deals are made and broken there. The fates of many have been sealed there as well.

I used to think it was a stroke of luck, a sort of promotion, to go from one of the boss’s hired guns to a cushy indoor job taking care of a teenage daughter no one knew about until she showed up. How wrong I was.

And now, it will just be the two of us. No one to look over our shoulders. No reason to hold back when the urge to admire her becomes overwhelming.

Right now, I feel sorry for myself. I’m not the type to complain or blame others for my troubles. That's not my style. But if it were, I’d be about as down and disgusted as I've ever been.

It’s bad enough having her around all the time here, where the constant threat of discovery keeps us in check. What happens when we're alone, without that threat? How strong am I expected to be?

I was at my strongest that night by the pool—never in my life have I been tested like she tested me then. It was as if she knew every filthy fantasy I'd had about her since her father assigned me to watch her. As if she'd plucked them right out of my head, standing there offering herself to me.

I deserve a medal for my restraint. Only a crystal-clear understanding of the consequences kept me from giving in.

Since then, she's been unbearable. She was never quiet or shy, but now she seems set on driving me mad, as if each day she ponders new ways to test me. Talking back, rolling her eyes, slamming doors like a spoiled child.

It's better this way. I know I hurt her when I rejected her. I saw the tears, and I'd have to be blind not to notice how quickly she fled back to the house. Part of me wanted to chase after her, to comfort her. I'm not heartless. I didn't want to cause her pain.

But damn it, I would be the one to suffer if I did what any other man would have in my place. She might as well have been served to me on a silver platter. Rejecting her was probably the hardest thing I've ever done, which says a lot, given my history.

She doesn't know. She can't know how she haunts my dreams, my fantasies—most of them dark and twisted. The things I've imagined doing to her... if she had any idea, she'd steer clear of me, fearful of what might happen. She's untouched, and what would it mean for me to be the one who changes that?

I can't afford to think like this. It's dangerous. Even if I swear I won't act on these thoughts, just imagining it intensifies the temptation, making it nearly impossible to resist. I mustn't even let myself get used to thinking this way.

Especially now that we're going to be alone. No one to watch me.

How the hell am I supposed to resist her when the last thin barrier between us disappears?