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“We’ll figure something out.”
Shrugging adorably, she whispers, “I’ll just have to blow you all night.”
I choke on the water I’m chugging to stay hydrated when she grabs my dick.
“Oh, all right.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Ana
With white knuckles, I squeeze the side of J.P.’s car seat as we make the turn into Papa’s driveway.
Visions flash through my mind of watching him leave that day back in March nearly three years ago.
The day everything changed for so many people.
I hate myself now for feeling so proud that cold winter afternoon how I made it down the path on the north side and slipped away to the main road.
Looking back, it meant Papa had horrible security.
Maybe he knew that, and easily believed I’d been kidnapped.
I’m here to own up to what I did.
Katya said I’d be punished if Papa found out I ran off. Maybe if he’d caught me right away. Back when I let him dress me up like a princess, and I lived in a fantasy world.
Now I’ve been through hell and back trying to make it on my own. Plus, I have an heir he’ll want in his life to bargain with.
Not only that, my last name is O’Rourke, and the man even my father fears will stand at my side.
Not Darragh.
Lachlan whistles in the front passenger seat, his second-in-command, Griffin Quinlan, driving us. My father should fear Lachlan, even if he would never kill Papa.
If my father hadn’t hired a mercenary yet to take out Lachlan because of Katya, it means somewhere along the way, my father respects him.
A warm hand covers mine, and I look up to see Darragh’s concerned frown, him sensing my stress.
“Say the word, my love, and we’ll turn around. Do this another day.”
Shaking my head, I mutter, “I’ll only go insane with worry if I put this off any longer.”
“Koslov security isn’t completely useless,” Lachlan chimes in. “Looks like he already knows you’re home.”
“It’s only been a few days, why hasn’t he…” My words stop short when I see the iron bars to his estate.
Papa stands there behind them.
My breath hitches, seeing that damn white suit. But it’s wrinkled and hangs off his frame. He’s grown thin with a gray pallor to his skin, like his hair. His jowls droop and he just looks…sad. In every way possible. Not just emotionally. My disappearance weighed on him, like Darragh had warned.
My God, I wrecked this man.
I love you, Anastasia. My Bratva princess.
Damn him. Why wouldn’t he just listen to me!
None of the guards with guns behind him look familiar, and I push away the guilt of who he hurt the day I left.
