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A shiver shot down her spine at the thought. No. She wouldn’t end up that way. She would figure this all out.
“You sit here. Nanny Nancy has already called your daddy. He’s very unhappy with you.” Maria laid on the guilt pretty thick while she pushed Ariana onto the stool.
He’d spank her, no doubt about that. Ariana had survived the first one, she’d survive this as well.
As soon as Ariana’s ass hit the stool, the door to the dayroom flung open and Costello marched in. A cold shudder ran through her when his heated glare settled on her. He was dressed in a black collared button-down shirt and jeans. The casual look shouldn’t be so damn seductive on a man who looked ready to crush her.
“Ariana.” His deep tenor shook her insides.
“Thank you for coming. She wasn’t sharing, and then she shoved Shelby off her chair,” Maria explained plainly.
“She’s been very aggressive today.” Nancy hurried over to the corner to tattle. Ariana glared up at her.
“I have not!” she defended herself, starting to get off the stool.
“Stay put.” Costello shoved her back down with his hand on her shoulder and turned his attention to Nancy. “How so?”
“She hoards the crayons and if anyone wants to use them, she won’t let them. Earlier today I saw her shove the chair away from Courtney so she couldn’t sit with her at the playdough center.”
Ariana’s mouth dropped open at the bald-faced lie the nanny was sprouting.
“Is that right, Maria?” Costello questioned the second nanny.
“I wasn’t here for that,” she answered him, but the way she frowned told Ariana she knew Nancy was making it up.
“I’ll deal with her.” Costello ended the questions, and grabbed Ariana by her arm, hauling her off of the stool.
“But she’s not telling the truth,” Ariana complained. Acting like a little girl or not, Ariana would not let that bitch get her into more trouble than she had coming to her. She did just fine on her own without any help from that sick in the head psycho.
“Not another word,” Costello warned with a shake of his head.
Ariana slapped her mouth closed and did her best to keep up with him as he marched her out of the dayroom and down the hall. His fingernails dug into her skin, pinching her, but the dark glare still lingered on his expression. She didn’t mention it.
Costello pushed her bedroom door open and dragged her inside, kicking the door closed behind them. Only once he was leaning against the door, did he let go of her arm.
She instantly rubbed her hand over the pinched area.
“You aren’t taking me to your room?” she asked.
“No,” he said firmly. “I was on my way to an important meeting when Nancy called me to tell me what a bad girl you’ve been today.” He crossed his arms over his chest. His muscles pressed against the fabric of his shirt with his positioning, but it was the dark tattoos covering both arms that captured her attention. Everything about this man screamed danger, yet Ariana could already feel her pussy starting to get wet for him.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he demanded.
Right. She was supposed to beg forgiveness or something.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” She spoke from the mental script she’d made for herself. What meeting did he need to go to? What exactly did he do other than take care of women who were drugged and made to be little girls for the perverse pleasure of fucked up strangers?
“Hmmm.” His lips screwed up in disbelief. “I shouldn’t have given you so much time without instruction.” He shook his head. “You’re new here, and you should have had more Daddy time.”
This was his fault? Okay, she could get behind that. Maybe he wouldn’t spank her then. Just wag his finger at her and leave her to sit in her room all afternoon. A break from all the acting and mind-numbing playroom would be heaven.
“If you have to go to a meeting, I understand.” She went to her bed and sat on the edge.
His dark brow arched. “I have an important matter to deal with first.”
She swallowed. That didn’t sound promising.
“Why did you decide not to share with Shelby?” he asked, speaking down to her. It was one of the most annoying parts of her time with these people. No one talked to her like she could grasp simple concepts.
“I was using the crayon,” she said simply. Her ability to playact was slipping away the longer he glared at her. Surely, he’d see through her.
“You have to share everything around here, and you sure as hell don’t put your hands on the other girls. And you don’t yell at your nannies.”
“I didn’t—”
“Right in front of me, you yelled at Nancy in the dayroom,” he pointed out.
Her shoulders fell. If he were living her life, he’d scream too. But she couldn’t tell him that.
