Tyrant Daddy by Isabella Starling

Chapter 1

Willa

"Willa, you have to take a left turn here!"

"Oh, shit!" I make a wild turn. Mercy shrieks and holds onto the car door for dear life. Okay, maybe I'm not the best driver out there. But I haven't had much practice, and I can't get better without that, can I?

"You're gonna make me throw up your birthday cake." Mercy does look a bit green as she takes deep gulps of air. "Take a right here."

I make a less erratic turn. I'm sure her stomach would thank me if it could. Driving up to a side alley, I park precariously with two wheels on the pavement. Checking my work on the curb, I shrug and get out of the car, popping my gum. Mercy follows suit and we make sure to check the road for creepers before wiggling out of our clothes. We're both wearing long-sleeved, knee-length dresses our parents would surely approve of, but underneath them our true outfits wait to shine.

Mercy's in a miniscule co-ord skirt and crop top, with her signature white sneakers. I've tried talking to her about heels but my best friend's freaking clueless. She insists on wearing the white sneakers with everything. My outfit, on the other hand, comes with a change of shoes. I put on a pair of sky-high black stilettos I stole from Dove's closet and unzip my dress to reveal a pair of denim cut-offs and a white lace top with embroidered purple flowers. I'm not wearing a bra, and Mercy eyes me cautiously.

"Dude, I can see your nipples."

"So?" I stick my tongue out at her. "It's my birthday, let me wear what I want to."

"Fiiine," she drawls out. "But don't blame me if we get arrested. You're only sixteen. Pretty sure Nox would throw a fit if he saw you like this."

"So don't tell him." I give her a wicked smile and motion for Mercy to follow me as we slink away from the car. "Is that the bar?"

She nods and I swallow thickly, watching the long line snaking up to the swanky place we've decided to hit up tonight.

"You really think they'll let us in?" I mutter.

"Kaylee and Sophia got in last week." She reapplies her red lipstick. "And we look way, way hotter than them."

"But do we look older?" I chew my lower lip, erasing any trace of lipstick I had left myself. "They're seniors, M."

"So? One look at your chest and that bouncer's fucking toast." She winks confidently before grabbing my hand. "Come on. Let's give it a try."

Throwing one last look at my car, I take a deep breath and follow my best friend to the entrance of the club. She pulls me right past the line where people boo us and hiss. But Mercy ignores it all. I really do admire her confidence.

Finally, we're standing in front of the intimidating bouncer. Mercy was right, he's staring right at my tits. But then his expression turns pissed off and he meets my eyes.

"Nope," he says, shaking his head. "Not fucking happening."

"Please," I whine. "It's my birthday."

"So? Step aside, girls." He opens the velvet rope to allow more people to enter. One of the girls smirks at me and I nearly boil over with anger.

"Please." I try to grab his hand, but he pulls back, giving me a warning glare.

"You don't even have fake IDs, kid, what did you fucking expect?" he rolls his eyes at me. "How old are you? Eighteen?"

"Y-Yeah." I give him my most confident smile.

"Sure." Another eye roll follows. "Come on, give me a fucking break. Your tits are barely an A-cup and your friend looks about twelve."

"Hey!" Mercy glares.

"Just telling you like it is. Off you go."

I pout, turning on my puppy eyes. Mr. Evil Bouncer here looks like the family type. Maybe I shouldn't have been betting on my nipples getting us in. The puppy eyes always work on Nox.

"Please," I try again. "Just this one time."

"I let you in, kid, and I'll have a whole load of twelve-year-olds lining up tomorrow," he grunts. "This is for your own good. Go on, get."

I allow my eyes to burn into his, hoping he knows just how much I hate him. With a frustrated groan, I pull on Mercy's hand. "Come on."

She follows me to the pavement where we join the line for the club, sighing. "Do we have to do this? Can't we just go back to your place and watch a movie or something?"

"No," I shake my head vehemently. "He pissed me off now. We definitely have to get in."

But the line is barely moving. Two hours later and we're sitting on the curb, having not moved since we first joined the line, except there's now a bunch of people in line after us, too. And one of the guys in line is not so good at hiding the boner tenting his pants. He's also practically salivating at the sight of my nipples. I cross my arms. It's getting cold.

Even though everything's going wrong so far, I don't want to admit defeat. Not yet.

It would mean going back home, returning to Dove and Nox and their perfect little family. The one I stand out from like a sore fucking thumb.

They never made me feel unwelcome. They always work hard to make me feel like I belong. But deep down, I know the truth.

They don't want me. How could they? Not even my mom did.

Mercy is texting on her phone and I'm impatiently looking around when I see him for the first time. He exits the club, eyes clouded over and darkened with anger as he walks swiftly past the line for the club. He has dark hair, with silver streaks. His jaw is chiseled and covered in stubble. He's tall, broad, and tan. His suit is crisp, and his walk is confident, unrelenting.

Something happens to me then, like I've been punched in the gut. But the pain doesn't come. Instead, there's just stone-cold shock, a strange, quickening heartbeat that feels traitorous, and an emptiness that can only be filled by him.

"Willa?"

I hear my best friend call after me, but I don't react. It's as if something's pulling me toward this man. An invisible string ties us together and I gravitate to him like a puppet just realizing she has a master.

"Hello,” I say to the man.

He's lighting a cigarette, but when he's done, he looks at me. His eyes darken more.

"What's your name?" I ask.

Still, he doesn't respond. But now he looks angry. Deep brown eyes travel over my face, over every freckle decorating my pale skin. He pauses on my lips before traveling lower. It's too dark to see that well, but I don't miss how his fists tighten when he sees my puckered pink nipples.

"You're walking around like that?" he hisses at me, pointing at my chest, exposed through the flimsy lace. "What does your daddy say?"

I flush. "I don't have one."

He takes in this information, dragging again on his cigarette. "What are you doing here, except for causing trouble?"

"Trying to get in." I point to the bouncer. "That guy's being a prick."

"Maybe he's just looking out for you."

"I'm old enough to take care of myself," I say fiercely.

"Sure. Trouble." He smirks and my insides flutter. Who is this man? How did he prompt such an instant, irresistible reaction from me? The moment I saw him, I had to talk to him. I had to know him.

"You didn't tell me your name."

"Raphael." It rolls off his lips slowly and sensually, dripping like honey. "What's your name, trouble?"

"Willa."

"Willa." He tries it out on his lips, nodding at me. "I like it. Suits you. Not as much as trouble, though. So, why come up to me?"

"I couldn't help it." I nervously totter in my stilettos, not used to the height. "Fuck."

I nearly stumble on the ground itself, but he easily catches me and holds me at arm's length. I can't even look at him. Every cell in my body is screaming for more, and I don't understand it. He must be three times my age. He could be my father. And yet I'm so completely captivated by his presence, I've managed to forget about the world existing outside of this... outside of us.

"Stop staring and get back to your friend, trouble," he says, motioning behind me. "She's looking a little lost there."

I toss a look over my shoulder, cursing softly when I see Mercy surrounded by a bunch of guys. This always fucking happens, and she always gets in trouble.

"But I need..." I worry my lip between my teeth again. "Please, I need more."

"More like what?"

"More of you." I want to die on the spot. Where the hell is this honesty coming from? I'm not open like this with anyone, not even Mercy. "Please. Your last name?"

He hesitates, raising the cigarette to his lips and taking another inhale. "It's Santino. Raphael Santino. You going to look me up, trouble?"

I nod, getting ready to speak when a woman comes flitting to him the next second. I instantly recognize her as the bitch that gave me a side-eye in front of the club earlier. But now she's clinging to Raphael, the man I've already decided is mine, and giving me a saccharine-sweet smile.

"Come back inside," she purrs against his neck, biting his earlobe. I want to fucking gag. "I want you to meet my friends, Daddy."

I glance in confusion between the two of them. She looks younger, but not young enough to be his daughter. Why is she calling him that?

As much as I try to ignore the fierce ache between my legs, I still feel it. Fuck. What is happening to me?

"I'll be right there." He smiles at her. "Go back inside and I'll join you in a second."

She must realize pleading with him won't help, so she turns around and leaves, but not before giving me a spiteful look.

"Your hot date?" I raise my brows at Raphael, hoping he'll pretend my voice isn't shaking.

"You could say that." He puts out his cigarette and winks at me. "Bye, trouble."

"Wait." I grab his palm and he pulls back as if I've burned him. "I need more."

"I already gave you more, Willa." My name feels even better on his lips than the nickname he's christened me with. Holy fuck. I'm about to beg him to give me so much more.

"I'm a virgin," I blurt, and he pulls back. "Please. I want you to be my first time."

"No." His answer is final and like the girl before me, I know better than to argue. "Go home, trouble. Maybe I'll meet you in another life."

He pulls away from me and walks off. As I watch him leave, something happens inside my mind. The wheels churn and turn and click into place. Raphael Santino is my new obsession, my new need, my new infatuation. Everything that matters to me in one man. And I will have him. No matter what.

I smile to myself and return to Mercy who's still battling with the group of guys flirting with her despite the fact she's clearly underage.

I let them flirt with me too. I kiss one of them later that night, pretending it's Raphael's sinful lips on mine. But I don't let him touch me anywhere below the waist. I already know how I'm going to get Raphael. It's going to take time... but eventually, I'll get what I want, just like I always do.

He won't be able to resist me. I'll mold myself into the perfect siren to steal him from any other woman. I'll work hard at it, making notes, watching him, until we meet again.

And then I'm going to ruin his life because he turned me down.

On my fucking birthday, no less.