Craving Daddy's Little Bride

Sin!

I braced myself, praying to the Heavens that my eyes wouldn't betray me, as I couldn’t stand the worried look in his eyes—especially knowing he meant well for me. My ex-boyfriend in college never really felt remorse for anything, even when he was caught in a punishable act. Edward was, after all, the one for me.

Edward leaned closer, brushing away an invisible strand of hair behind my ear. "You know you look very gorgeous when you are pretending to be angry," he teased, as he leaned closer, brushing away an invisible strand of hair behind my ear, and damn, it wasn’t the eyes I feared that betrayed me, but my lips, betraying me with the tiniest smile. I rolled my eyes away from him, hiding the slight curve of my lips.

"There! Right there." I could feel him pointing, and I could imagine him smiling brightly as he spoke. "That angelic smile, come on, baby. You’ve got a new whip waiting at New York." He chuckled softly.

The moment those words hit me, my hands flew to mouth and my heart throbbed like it might burst out of my chest, eyes widening as I let a happy gasp. These gifts always got under my skin, and just like that, the tension inside me melted, my lips curling into a bright, helpless smile that couldn’t be suppressed no matter what.

Damn him, he won.

I turned to him in a rush, gasping so loud that my anger was forgotten, eyes dazzling with excitement, and he just sat there grinning back.

And just like that, it didn’t matter anymore how our honeymoon in Greece ended. New York was the only place that mattered at the moment.

I blinking rapidly trying to stop the tears from spilling, like a child who was just about to burst into tears. But Edward only grinned wider, knowing he’d already won this one. He pulled me close like a dad would to his little princess—and I was—completely his. "Don’t cry now," he said, his voice low and rough, hands patting my back gently.

After that, Edward helped me get up on my feet while he rushed to get dressed, and I followed, slipping into my dress, knowing I had something to finally be happy for. New York!

A small knock sounded at the door, and Edward answered, knowing who it was. He had ordered the staff to whisk my luggage to the car.

"Princess, you don’t need to touch anything. Relax," he said, surveying the staff while they parked and moved the luggage to the vehicle. I followed behind like royalty as we headed for his private jet.

I froze the moment my gaze met my initials boldly customized on his private jet, cheeks flushing red as I gasped, feeling his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me close against him when he saw how emotional I felt seeing that. His hands stroked my hair like I was the only fragile thing in the world. He steered me in like a bodyguard would guide a queen—protective and proud, like his world depended on it.

"Surprise, surprise," Edward said, handing me a card and daring me to see what was inside. What could it be? I wondered, staring at the shiny piece while he smiled at the dumbstruck expression on my face, with his hands in his pockets—I couldn’t help but burn in anticipation.

I was so caught up in guessing what the content of the note was about that I barely registered how stunning the private jet’s interior was. Red flooded every corner, making the bedroom cabin look like we were about to continue our honeymoon in his private jet.

A whole f*****g sight to behold! But wait! That note had my head twisting in anticipation, and I wasn’t sure what to expect, especially with the way Edward was smiling and watching. He definitely had something cooking, and the last time I checked? He swore to make it up to me, so what was my over-the-top billionaire husband planning for his little bride this time? A private island weekend? A diamond-studded tiara for his princess, of course? Or was he going to book a whole cinema just for me?

"You know I’m not good at this," I scoffed, blushing at the thoughts taking turns in my mind, before dragging my eyes back to him.

Edward chuckled softly as he eased into the chair, his stomach pushing forward, stretching the luxurious fabric of his clothes while he leaned back, like he needed enough space for him and his belly. "Go on, open it."

I let a sharp exhale before finally ripping the ribbons apart, my heart racing as I read. "I want you here when you meet my sons."

His son?

I had never visited Edward’s home in New York, but I definitely had heard of his son countless times—how they were whatever. I tossed the card onto one of the executive seats and returned my gaze to Edward, smile widening—an act.

Deep down, I had never prepared to be a stepmom at twenty-one, not just a stepmom, but to a guy who was way older. Was I really be a stepmom or his new stepsister? I giggled under my breath.

"Oh my God, I can’t wait to finally meet him," I screamed, launching into his arms. He laughed as he pulled me closer. "Thanks, baby," I whispered, eyes shut as I clung onto him, while my heart wavered between fear and anticipation.

Could I truly connect with him, while he saw me as their own, not a stranger or an intruder?

Nestled against him like a little princess in a king's embrace as we soared to New York, I felt my heart racing, a mix excitment and nerves knotting together.

The soft whir of the jet’s engine and the cool gust of evening wind greeted us the moment the doors opened.

New York.

I sucked in the fresh breath of a new city when my husband offered a hand; I slid my arm in, having him hold me like the most beautiful handbag in the world while we strutted to the car waiting ahead. His aides, who were already waiting at the airport for our arrival, had our luggage whisked to the SUV a few feet away from us.

I’d heard of Edward’s son, and I couldn’t help but wonder why it worried me so much. Being a stepmom had always seemed cool—why did it make my stomach twist so much?

Edward had planned a family-bound time with me, and it wasn’t the time to feel fear or intimidation of any kind. I simply threw my head back, closing my eyes for a moment as the vehicle drove us to his private villa.

When we arrived, the opulence around me didn’t feel real—or perhaps it was simply too good to be real. Too classy. Everything was flawless, like they were all made of diamond—the light, the chandelier, the floors, and even the fleet of luxury cars.

I was still lost in the beauty of the house towering when Edward excused himself for a call.

Then suddenly, the grand entry door swung open, and a young gentleman—supposedly, my husband’s son—stepped out. First thing that hit me was his height: tall, rising above everything else, suit hugging him in all right places, broad-shouldered, hair chestnut-colored and perfectly styled. The confidence in his steps made made him even more gorgeous as he drew my eyes like magnetic.

I felt so intimidated standing in front of him as a stepmom, our age difference was glaringly obvious. Why did Edward marry a twenty-one-year-old when his son was already a strong, grown man.

He was the direct opposite of his father: tall, toned, while Edward had an overfed build—though the face was unmistakably his.

He looked at me as he approached, in a deliberately slow, appraising motion, making it obvious like he wanted me to be aware of it too—a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and that was definitely not a friendly, it was deliberate, dark, and dangerous, like he could see right through me, even though I barely knew him, except that I'd heard of him a lot about him.