Daddy’s Obsession

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Arcturus eventually left her alone.

He had kissed the top of her head once—brief, almost absent—before walking out of the kitchen without another word. The front door closed downstairs a few minutes later. The low growl of his car faded into the London morning traffic.

Only then did Vivienne move.

She climbed the stairs slowly, every step pulling at the lingering soreness between her legs. His white polo still hung loosely on her frame, the sleeves covering her hands, the hem brushing her thighs. She pushed open the door to her bedroom and stopped just inside.

Sage green walls. Soft green bedding. A tall monstera in the corner that she had nursed for two years. The wide window faced west; in the evenings the sunset poured gold across the floorboards. It had always been her favorite room in the house. Her sanctuary.

Today it felt smaller.

She crossed to the vanity and sat down. The mirror reflected a girl she barely recognized. Red hair still damp and tangled. Pale skin marked faintly along the neck and collarbone. Green eyes that looked too wide, too tired. A scatter of freckles across her nose that Arcturus had stared at all morning like they belonged to him.

She touched her own cheek.

Was this face a blessing or a curse?

Boys at university had always looked too long. Professors sometimes forgot what they were saying mid-sentence. And Arcturus… Arcturus looked at her like he had already decided the rest of her life. Like the moment she turned eighteen the last barrier between them had simply ceased to exist.

She didn’t know when his clothes had started appearing in her closet. A few of his shirts hung between her dresses now—dark, expensive, carrying the faint scent of his cologne. She had never asked why. She had never moved them.

Her phone buzzed on the vanity.

Rowena:

you alive?

Vivienne stared at the message for a long time before typing.

Vivienne:

trip’s cancelled. i can’t come with you.

The reply came almost instantly.

Rowena:

…he said no, didn’t he.

Vivienne:

yes.

Rowena:

viv. is it getting worse.

Vivienne’s thumbs hovered. Rowena was the only person in the world who knew even a fraction of the truth. She had seen the way Arcturus watched her. She had noticed the bruises once, years ago, after a particularly bad punishment. She had never pushed too hard. But she knew.

Vivienne:

he touched me. properly. last night.

There was a longer pause this time.

Rowena:

oh god.

i’m so sorry.

are you okay? do you need me to come get you?

Vivienne:

i’m fine.

no. don’t come. he’ll know.

i just… i don’t know what to do.

Rowena:

you don’t have to know right now.

just breathe. i’m here. always.

and if it gets too much, you call me. day or night. i don’t care.

Vivienne’s eyes burned. She typed a quiet thank you and set the phone face-down.

She stood, pulled the polo over her head, and let it fall to the floor. For a moment she simply stood there in nothing at all, staring at her own reflection—the faint marks on her hips, the tenderness between her thighs. Then she dressed carefully: soft bra, clean panties, a simple sage-green dress that fell to her knees. Something modest. Something that felt like armor.

Arcturus had told her to pack.

So she packed.

She pulled the large suitcase from the top of the wardrobe and began folding clothes with mechanical precision. Dresses. Lingerie he had bought her over the years and she had never worn. Swimsuits. The new passport still crisp in the drawer. Three days until they left for Italy. Three days until she would be alone with him in a villa with no one to interrupt.

Her hands only started shaking when she reached for the underwear drawer.

---

Across the city, Arcturus sat in the back of the black Maybach as it cut through London traffic. The glass partition was up. His phone vibrated again in his hand.

Orion.

He let it ring three times before answering.

“What.”

His brother’s low, amused voice slid through the speaker.

“Still in a mood, I see. Belgium is boring without someone interesting to talk to. How is my dove this morning?”

Arcturus’s jaw tightened.

“Don’t call her that.”

Orion laughed softly. “Possessive already? That’s new. Or is it? You’ve been staring at that girl like a starving man for years. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever grow the spine to actually take what you wanted.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” Orion’s tone stayed light, but there was steel underneath. “You’ll fly to Brussels and remind me who the older brother is? Please. We’re only two years apart, Arcturus. And I’ve never been particularly good at listening to you.”

Silence stretched for a moment. The car turned onto the embankment. Grey Thames water slid past the window.

Orion’s voice dropped, quieter, more dangerous.

“Did you finally f**k her?”

Arcturus said nothing.

A soft, disbelieving laugh came through the line.

“Christ. You did. You actually did it.” Orion exhaled. “How was she? Soft? Tight? Did she cry for her daddy while you ruined her?”

“Careful.”

“I’m always careful. That’s why I’m asking instead of flying home to find out for myself.” A pause. “She’s beautiful, brother. Those freckles. That mouth. Those legs. I’ve thought about bending her over your desk more times than I care to admit. Imagine the look on your face if I did.”

Arcturus’s free hand curled into a fist against his knee.

“She is not a game, Orion.”

“Everything is a game. You just happen to be losing this one by being too greedy.” Orion’s voice turned almost thoughtful. “I could be good to her, you know. Kinder than you. I wouldn’t need to break her to keep her. But then again… maybe she likes being broken. Does she? Does my little dove moan prettily when you call her your slut?”

“Say her name like that again and I will end you.”

Orion chuckled, low and dark.

“There he is. There’s the man who built an empire out of spite and control. Relax. I’m in Belgium until next month. I have my own companies to run. I’m simply… curious. You’ve had her for years under your roof and never touched her. Suddenly the leash snaps. I want to know how far you’re willing to go.”

“As far as I have to.”

“Even if it destroys her?”

Arcturus looked out at the grey city sliding past.

“She’s mine,” he said quietly. “That’s all that matters.”

Orion was silent for a long moment.

Then, softer, almost serious:

“One day you’re going to look at her and realize obsession isn’t the same as love. And on that day, brother… I might still be waiting.”

Arcturus ended the call.

The phone immediately lit up again with a different name.

Cassiopeia.

A single message waited.

I miss the way you used to f**k me like you hated me. Come over tonight. I’ll leave the door unlocked.

Arcturus stared at the words for three seconds.

Then he deleted the message without replying and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

---

In the quiet of her sage-green bedroom, Vivienne stood in the bathroom with the door locked.

The suitcase sat half-packed on the bed behind her. The dress she had chosen felt too thin. Her reflection in the mirror above the sink looked pale and far away.

She pressed both hands over her mouth.

And finally, quietly, she began to cry.