Daddy's Girl: A Daddy Issues Novel, Rebel Wild [top 10 most read books in the world .TXT] 📗

“Resume your standing position,” he tells me. “I want to see what I now own.”

“You don’t own—”

“Stop talking. The only words I want to hear out of that smart mouth of yours is yes followed closely by sir. Anything else and you’ll regret it. For the next six months, I own you. I own every red strand of hair on your head and every inch of your smooth, sweet skin and I’ll say it anytime I damn well please. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what? You need to get this right or else it’s over. I’m not paying you to be a spoiled little brat that talks back. The whole idea is for me to dominate you. Now, are you going to cooperate or not?”

“Yes, sir.” I stand, feeling humiliated and ashamed.

Getting up from his desk, he walks behind me. He inspects me like he’s a judge in one of those American Kennel Club shows Daddy likes watching. I’m expecting him to pull my lips back and look at my teeth any minute now.

“Face me and open your mouth,” he orders. My eyes close tightly as I cringe, but I still say yes, sir, and obey. “Wider,” he tells me, and I open as wide as I can. “Have you ever sucked a cock, Miss Warren?”

“No, sir,” I tell him. Imagining it makes me want to throw up.

“Pity,” he says. His voice is laced with disappointment. “I was hoping there was something you could do without my instruction.”

I wonder if I’m to apologize, but luckily, I’m saved by his phone.

“Hold on, Mom,” he answers.

Mom! He’s actually taking a phone call from his mom while talking about me sucking his dick. This guy is just the worst.

He puts the phone down and turns to me.

“Brianna should be in the living room. She’ll show you around. When she’s done, my brother will take you to your apartment to collect your things. I’ll see you for dinner tonight.”

“Tonight, sir?”

“Yes,” he says sternly. “You signed the contract, you’re mine. Go, now.”

I leave him to look for whoever Brianna is. I find her in the large living room talking in a hushed tone to the other Mr. Garrett and she doesn’t look happy with the conversation. She seems to be berating him as he tries to plead his case.

“Why do I have to be stuck with her?” She asks.

“You just said you don’t want me around her. I can’t even compliment a girl without you making it into a thing.”

“Calling some slut sexy is not a compliment. You’re such a fucking asshole and it’s not my job to give your brother’s skank hoe a tour of his mega-mansion,” I hear her say as I approach.

“Great,” the other Mr. Garrett says, walking away.

“Uh, hey,” she says. “I’m Brianna. You can call me Bree. Everyone does.”

“I’m Sydney.”

“Welcome, Sydney. I guess I can show you around since no one else is going to do it.”

She walks quickly and I have to struggle to keep up with her in my high heels.

“The area we were just in is known as the great room,” she says as we enter the kitchen. “Don’t ask me why it’s not a plain old living room. It sounds fancier to him, I guess. And in here, you and Tristan, or whatever you call him, will have breakfast unless he wants to eat alone. He’s moody like that in the mornings sometimes. Lunch will be here or in the dining room, depending on his mood. Like I said, it changes from day to day. Dinner is always in the dining room. You have to eat all three meals and clean your plate.”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t look at me. I don’t get it either. He gave me this whole set of rules for you, so I’m guessing he’ll monitor you like a toddler. Snacking is permitted as long as the choices are healthy.”

“Why is he telling you all of this?”

“I do most of the shopping around here because Tristan and Joe are too lazy to do it and the maid he has is too old to do anything but get in the way.”

“Joe?”

“My guy. The skinny as hell dude I was just talking to.”

“Mr. Garrett?”

“Oh, please don’t call him that. His head is already too big. Anyway, if you have a choice of snacks let me know and I’ll get them for you. Tristan won’t let me buy you any junk food. He’s being a real ass about you for some reason. Do you have any food allergies?”

“No, ma’am,” I quickly tell her, causing her to look at me. I give her a weak smile and her features soften and she relaxes a bit.

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“That son of a bitch. I knew he was a creep, but…” She shakes her head in what looks like disgust. “Do you have any favorite foods?” She asks in a gentler tone and I catch myself shaking my head.

“No, ma’am,” I tell her, instead.

“Tristan isn’t a picky eater, so if you want a certain meal tell me and I’ll cook it. Nothing too fancy though. I can make a mean meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”

“I try not to eat meat,” I tell her.

“One of those.” She laughs. “Man, are you going to have a hard time around here. Joe and Tristan would eat it raw if I didn’t cook it.

“I’m really not that dedicated to it.” I shrug. “I can eat whatever.”

“Do you cook?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Stop with the ‘ma’am’ shit. I’m not that old.”

“Sorry.” We continue the tour. I listen as she tells me the do’s and don’ts of living here. “What’s in here?” I ask when she passes a partially open door.

She opens it wider so I can get a look inside. It’s a library and I fall in love with it.

“No one’s allowed to use it,” she says. “Tristan doesn’t even come in here that much.”

“Why not?”

Who has a big library that no one can use? A control freak, that’s who.

“You see that film stuff,” she says, pointing to a section in the