For Daddy: Villain Daddies, #3

By Celia Crown

As a twenty-two-year-old without a college degree in a city bustling with brilliant people, Aria is heartbroken by a cheating boyfriend, and the only highlight of her life is a steady job.

 

She's unlucky with love. It's been proven in the last couple of years of her life.

 

Just when she swore off love, Mr. Simone's very attractive face came to view. He's always been there as her boss, and she has never seen him as anything but.

 

Suddenly, her heart is racing and her palms become clammy when she's near him.

 

Aria knows this feeling too well.

 

He looks at her with something indescribable, and she doesn't think she'll be ready for what he has in mind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Celia Crown
• Release date: Apr 24, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223745419

Book preview

FOR DADDY

VILLAIN DADDIES SERIES - BOOK 3

____________________

CELIA CROWN

Copyright © 2019 by Celia Crown.

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction.

The book or any portion of the book may not be reproduced or used under any circumstances, except with the written permission from the author. Public names, movies, televisions, locations, or any references are used for atmospheric purposes. Any similarities and resemblances to alive or dead people, events, brands, and locales are all complete coincidences.

Contents

For Daddy

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Afterword

More Books

For Daddy

By Celia Crown

As a twenty-two-year-old without a college degree in a city bustling with brilliant people, Aria is heartbroken by a cheating boyfriend, and the only highlight of her life is a steady job.

She’s unlucky with love. It’s been proven in the last couple of years of her life.

Just when she swore off love, Mr. Simone’s very attractive face came to view. He’s always been there as her boss, and she has never seen him as anything but.

Suddenly, her heart is racing and her palms become clammy when she’s near him.

Aria knows this feeling too well.

He looks at her with something indescribable, and she doesn’t think she’ll be ready for what he has in mind.

Chapter One

___________

Aria

I sniffle, rubbing the back of my hand on my nose. The blurriness in my eyes worsens when I try to blink the tears back without making any pathetic noises.

The fabric in my hands crumbles as I lick my lips, calming my nerves as I start the breathing exercise that I do when I feel the need to cry.

What a horrible day.

I woke up with the determination to beat morning traffic to work, but I remembered that I had to get something from my boyfriend’s house. He had accidentally taken the watch that my boss gifted me, and I needed to give it back to my boss to tell him that I can’t accept such an expensive gift.

It’s not that I’m not grateful for his gift, but Mr. Simone has given me a watch that is far too extravagant for someone who wears casual clothes to work. It was a Rolex that had a style catered towards men for its bulky and sharp exterior designs.

I thought I was holding six months’ worth of rent in my hands when he had given it to me with the box. Simone had mentioned that it was a watch that he has had in his possession for a while now, and he wished to let it be in my possession for who knows why.

Simone never gave me a reason other than that I need to treasure it because it is one of his favorite collections.

That’s another reason why I needed to get the watch back from my boyfriend’s house, who’s my ex-boyfriend at this point because when I rang his doorbell, a woman came out with his shirt around her body.

I was stunned by confusion and hurt when she smiled down at me. She was tall and utterly gorgeous with her wavy platinum blonde hair and gleaming amber eyes. She resembled a goddess and a homewrecker at the same time.

Nothing my ‘boyfriend’ could say would have made the situation better because the hickey on her neck and the clear implication of how she was dressed when she opened the door was all the explanation that I needed.

I always thought my ex-boyfriend was a kind and gentle man, but then his true colors showed the moment he saw me. He was remorseless when he scoffed at my tears and broken voice of asking him how he could do that to me.

I was a fetish.

He said those exact words. He only wanted to be with me because he wanted a moving doll and he could never have sex with me for that exact reason. Sex was never a part of the equation in our three-month relationship, but I still cried as if we had been together for three years.

I was an emotional and helpless romantic that always fell too hard and hurt too much.

The only reason why he was attracted to me was that I was of smaller stature. Nothing else mattered to him, not my black hair or the teary blue eyes, and definitely not my meek personality. Being an outgoing person has been a goal that I wanted to work toward, but I couldn’t get past the nervousness that I would have when someone tried to talk to me.

After that whole ordeal, I went to work with soaked clothing and a blotchy face. People on the streets avoided me as if I was the plague while the rain came down with a sense of mockery while I walked.

It was a fruitless effort to ride the bus when I was already wet from head to toe. As if that wasn’t enough, I was holding a half-a-million watch in my hands as if it was a half-eaten sandwich while I should be holding my badge to enter the building to go past security.

This entire building is owned by Mr. Simone, his fashion designs are world-renowned, the best, and the most expensive. The floor that I work on is the top floor where he works; there is an office that oversees the entire city while the other half of the floor is his workplace.

He has a handful of models that he trusts to be fitted in his clothing; men and women are under vigorous training to keep their stereotypical coat-hanger body frame. I have heard news reports and articles that call models that and I think it is one of the most derogatory terms that I have heard.

It’s so disrespectful.

I understand that the modeling industry has certain criteria, but more companies have known to branch out. Even if Mr. Simone wanted, he could really do that because his branding is built for high-end, one-of-a-kind, singularity clothes. There is one piece or one set of clothing, and there will not be another same one.

We have had copycats or knockoffs, but they are easily taken off the market with a lawsuit. Mr. Simone has so much money that all these open lawsuits aren’t a problem for him.

This way, ma’am. The security guard at the side gestures his gloved hand to the opening by him.

I cock my head, sniffing back a cough. The man smiles politely, tilting his head while he waits for me. I have been working here for about a year now, and there are too many people that work here for this security guard to remember who I am.

I don’t question it when I thank him before rushing past the elevator. I’m already having a terrible day and being late will not be on my list of unfortunate events since I only have room in my heart for a couple of bad things in one day.

The ride up to Simone’s floor is long with people filtering out to their own floors while avoiding me because I’m still drenched in water. I don’t have a spare change of clothing so the bathroom blow-dryer will have to do before I clock in for work.

If I’m right, I have about fifteen minutes.

No one is allowed to enter Simone’s floor without his explicit permission, and I’m used to the brief silence in the empty elevator before it opens to the massive, rounded reception desk. One older woman with graying hair glances up, and her wrinkled face frowns when she sees my miserable appearance.

My dear, what on earth happened to you? she bristles with a disapproving glare.

The muscles on my face remain pitiful as I give her a small and unenergetic half-smile.

My lips tremble with a restrained smile before I shake my head. I couldn’t trouble this kind woman with my failed relationship. I’m afraid that I’ll start crying when I answer her, so I just make a vague motion to the bathroom down the hall.

It’s just as grand as the office floor with the gold interior designs. It’s not a gold color that is too much to digest; this gold is a paler color for a subconscious message of money and wealth. A part of me wouldn’t be surprised if it’s real gold considering Simone doesn’t use anything that isn’t the best quality.

I put the watch down at the sink and pull my shirt towards the blow-dryer attached to the wall. It’s only me, the older woman who is the receptionist, and Mr. Simone on this floor.

I don’t understand what my position in his company is. I don’t make clothes, nor do I contribute to anything else other than being my boss’ personal mannequin. He is working on something that I’m scared to ask since it’s not in my position to know the intimate details of his work.

I just stand there and let him measure my body with fabrics, and then I would get paid monthly in six figures.

That number still surprises me to this day as if it is my first paycheck.

Suddenly I was thrown into a world of money. I didn’t know what to do with that since I have only been living paycheck to paycheck before. With this new additional money, it’s just sitting in my bank account and collecting dust until I need to buy groceries and pay rent.

I don’t have a college degree in fashion or business to add to Mr. Simone’s company, but I am getting paid higher than the executives of the company.

Everyone here knows that he is a