Against All Odds, I Want Daddy!

002

Elysia woke with a dull ache pressing behind her eyes.

The silver dress from the night before still hung over the chair like a secret she had forgotten to hide. Morning light slipped through the heavy curtains in thin, accusing lines.

She sat up slowly, one hand pressed to her temple, and reached into the bottom drawer of her nightstand. The small white bottle was almost empty.

She shook two pills into her palm, swallowed them dry, and waited for the familiar soft fog to settle over the pain. It always did. It had become the only quiet she could count on some mornings.

Once the ache dulled, she pulled on a simple robe and stepped into the hallway, meaning to find her mother. But then along the way she heard soft voices drifting from the study at the end of the corridor. The door stood slightly open.

It was her father's voice she heard, “I understand that you're trying to shift the meeting but then the earlier the better, the primary election will take place soon, we have no time to waste. My daughter will be prepared tomorrow then, I expect your son to understand the value of this arrangement.”

A deeper voice answered, older, equally formal. “Of course my son is ready, I just have an important meeting tonight I can't skip, let's conclude tomorrow.”

Elysia froze. Her betrothed’s father. The man they already called her father-in-law in private conversations she was never meant to hear.

She backed away before either of them could sense her, heart beating too fast, and returned to her room. The phone on her nightstand lit up with a new message from an unknown number.

“The gentleman from last night has paid for the entire club tonight. He only wants to watch you dance, he wants to know your price.”

Elysia stared at the screen for a long second. Then her thumbs moved, “Tell that man to go to hell.”

She tossed the phone onto the bed just as her mother appeared in the doorway, soft footed and already worried.

“Elysia? You look pale.” The words spilled out before she could stop them.

“Please,” she responded immediately with a cracking voice. “Talk to Father. Tell him I’m not ready. I can’t marry a stranger. I don’t even know his name. Please, just… ask him to wait for me till I'm ready, this is the only thing I've ever asked for in years.”

Her mother closed the door quietly and came closer. She reached for Elysia’s hands, her own cool and gentle.

“I wish you could decide for yourself,” she whispered. “I do. But there is nothing I can do that will change his mind. You know how he is.”

Something inside Elysia snapped.

“Then what good are you?” The words came out raw, louder than she meant. “You’re weak. You’ve always been weak. You stand there and let him decide everything, my friends, my nights, my future, and you never once stand up for me. Not once. You just smile and say he’s protecting us while he locks the cage tighter.”

Her mother’s face crumpled, but Elysia couldn’t stop.

“I’m twenty-two and I’ve never chosen a single thing that mattered. And you just watch.”

Tears burned her eyes. She shoved past her mother and entered the bathroom, she slammed the door and locked it.

The sound of her own breathing filled the quiet room as she took off her clothes and slid down into the bathtub, knees pulled to her chest, crying in the only place that still belonged to her.

When she felt her mother was still there, she opened the tap and let the water rush on the floor to prevent her from hearing whatever lies her mother had to spill again.

The tears eventually ran dry after some minutes.

She heard her mother’s soft footsteps retreat down the hallway. Only then did she push herself out of the bathroom, then turn the bedroom lock with a sharp click, and crawl onto the bed without bothering to put on a cloth. Exhaustion dragged her under almost at once.

When she opened her eyes again the light in the room had shifted. It was now late at night

The migraine was back, a low, familiar throb behind her left eye. She reached for the bottle without thinking, shook out two more pills, and swallowed them dry. The fog settled slower this time, but it came.

She left the room barefoot, robe loosely tied, and walked the quiet halls.

It was so strange that the house was too quiet.

In the kitchen she found one of the younger maids wiping down the already clean counters.

“Where is everyone?” Elysia asked.

The girl looked up, startled, then lowered her eyes. “They left for a party, Miss. Your father, your mother, and Miss Liana.”

Elysia stared at her for a second.

Then she scoffed, almost a laugh. Of course they had. Of course the perfect family could disappear to smile and shake hands while she was left behind with a locked door and a headache.

She turned without another word and went back upstairs.

On her bed the phone still lay where she had thrown it. She picked it up, opened the chat with Luka, and typed quickly. “I’m coming tonight. Be ready.”

She didn’t wait for a reply.

The hidden drawer opened with the same quiet click it always did. This time she didn’t reach for the silver dress. She pulled out something sharper, a black, barely there, the kind of fabric that clung and revealed in equal measure.

She wore high slits that made her legs look endless, she put on dark lipstick. The mask was the last thing she wore.

Eclipse looked back at her from the mirror. No soft cream blouse, no pearl buttons, no obedient daughter.

It was just a woman who had already been told to stay in her cage and had decided, for one more night, to burn the lock.

The side door of the club opened under her hand like it had been waiting.

Luka was already there, eyes widening the second he saw the black dress, the mask, the way she moved.

“Keep the money,” Elysia said before he could speak. “All of it.”

A slow smile broke across his face. He leaned in and whispered, “Thanks.”

She didn’t answer. She walked straight toward the stage entrance, the bass already thudding through the floorboards, the crowd was eager like a restless animal beyond the curtain.

Tonight she did not dance like someone stealing freedom. She danced like someone who had decided the cage could burn.

The lights hit. The music dropped into something darker. Eclipse moved her hips rolling, every sharp cut of the beat answered by a deliberate, filthy sway.

She twerked low, hands sliding down her own thighs, then rose again in one smooth, taunting line. The crowd lost its mind. Phones went up. Voices screamed her name.

She didn’t stop. She owned every second of it, she made slow drops that made the entire front row forget how to breathe with confidence pouring off her like smoke.

Somewhere in the dark, a single pair of hands began to clap.

Elysia’s head turned just enough to catch the source through the lights, a man seated in the private section in black suit with no expression, eyes fixed on her like she was the only thing in the building worth seeing.

The clap continued even after the final note crashed and the rest of the club exploded into cheers.

She had barely stepped down the stage when Luka appeared, with a pale face it was vividly showing that he was about to force himself to say something she won't agree to. “He wants a private meeting. That's the man who paid for the whole night. Vozinha.”

Elysia’s pulse kicked once, hard. She followed him anyway.

Vozinha stood near the low bar, he was tall, broad shouldered, and carried the kind of aura that made other men nervous. Two guards lingered by the door until he flicked two fingers and they stepped back.

He looked at her for a long moment. “I want to see the woman behind the mask.”

She met his gaze through the crystals and black lace. “Are you that rude?”

One of the guards stepped forward, voice sharp. “Do you even know who you’re speaking to?”

Elysia scoffed, soft and unimpressed. “I don’t care.”

Then he smiled surprisedly. For the first time in almost his entire life, someone had spoken to him without fear. “I like your bravery.”

He turned his head slightly to the guard who confronted me. “Apologize to her.”

The guard’s jaw tightened, but he obeyed. “I apologize.”

He dismissed them both with a look.

He stepped closer, took her hand with unexpected gentleness, and brushed his mouth across the back of her gloved knuckles.

“This hand has probably never done hard labor a day in its life.”

The second his lips touched her skin, something inside Elysia short-circuited. Heat flooded her so fast it made her knees weak.

Up close he was even more dangerous than the rumors, his sharp jaw, his dark eyes that looked like they had never learned how to soften.

The scent of him wrapped around her almost made her crazy, her pulse stuttered.

For one reckless second she felt herself melting, the careful walls she lived behind thinning under the simple press of his mouth against her hand.

That was why the next words left her before she could stop them. A quiet laugh slipped from her. “It seems you’ve earned the chance to see my face… but only if we’re alone.”

The room cleared without him having to say anything or even making any gesture. Now he simply waited.

“I’m Mikael,” he said. “Mikael Mikaelson. Most people know me as Vozinha.”

His eyes never left hers. “So… what’s your price?”

Elysia walked past him, unhurried. She picked up a glass from the bar, took a slow sip of whatever expensive thing had been poured, and set it down again. Then she looked him straight in the eyes.

“You look powerful, hot, handsome, and most likely ruthless. And judging by your confidence, you probably think money can buy absolutely anything.”

She rested for a beat of silence before she continued. “I like big dreams and ambitious men… but I hate people who measure my worth with money. If you think you can buy me… then you’re nothing but a fool.”

She turned and walked out before he could answer, the robe whispering around her bare legs, the mask still firmly in place.

Behind her, Mikael Mikaelson stayed perfectly still. For the first time in his life, a woman had rejected him.