DADDY'S FORBIDDEN PRIZE

The Confrontation

I lasted three days.

Three days of pretending his presence didn’t rattle me. Three days of sleepless nights replaying the way he lingered outside my building, the way his gaze owned me from across the restaurant. Three days of convincing myself I was still in control.

But I couldn’t take it anymore.

So when I saw him again—this time outside the gallery where I worked—I didn’t turn away. I didn’t hide. I stormed straight up to him, my heels clicking against the pavement, my pulse hammering so hard I felt it in my throat.

“Why are you following me?” I demanded.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. He stood there, tall and immovable, dressed in a dark suit that made him look untouchable. “Because you keep running,” he said simply, his voice calm, velvet, maddening.

My hands curled into fists. “I’m not some toy you can chase whenever you’re bored. I don’t belong to you.”

Something flickered in his eyes at that—danger and amusement intertwined. He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me, his presence so overwhelming it was hard to breathe.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “But you will.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. Fury and desire tangled inside me until I couldn’t tell them apart. I shoved at his chest, but it was like pushing against stone. “You’re insane if you think I’m just going to—”

His hand caught mine mid-push, firm but not cruel, his grip swallowing mine in an instant. He leaned down, his lips inches from my ear. “You think I don’t see it? The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching? The way your body betrays you even as your words try to fight?”

My knees weakened, my chest rising and falling too fast, but I refused to let him win. I tilted my chin higher, forcing my voice steady. “You’re not the kind of man I can trust.”

His smile was sharp, wicked. “Good. Trust is for boys. Desire is for men.”

I jerked my hand free, glaring up at him with all the defiance I could muster. “If you want me, you’ll have to earn me. And I don’t come easy.”

For a long, breathless moment, his eyes burned into mine, heavy with unspoken promises. Then he chuckled softly, darkly. “Perfect,” he said. “The harder the fight, the sweeter the victory.”

I spun on my heel, walking away with shaking legs and a racing heart.

But deep inside, I knew I hadn’t escaped him.

I had just made the game more dangerous.

And he was the kind of man who never lost.