As luck would have it, I landed a girl who’s surrounded by overprotective men who spoiled her rotten but still didn’t manage to transform her into a spoiled princess.
If anything, she makes it a point to volunteer at a gazillion organizations that I can’t keep track of. Instead of using her time to chill like most college students do, she’s more interested in helping others.
Ava and Glyn did fly her to Ava’s family vacation house in the South of France. My disregard for Ava might have lowered because I got to watch Cecily in a bathing suit for a week.
I still had to put up with Kill’s annoying company for it. The difference is that he got to join them when they went swimming and for meals.
Me? I remained in the sun with a grouchy Ilya, who absolutely hates the heat and kept grumbling about his burned skin.
Cecily came over, gave him her sunscreen, then turned around and left.
I was so close to killing him.
I hate the way she smiles and talks to everyone, Ilya included, but when she meets my eyes, her joy disappears, and she looks away.
In fact, she’s been trying to kick me out ever since I landed in London—one day after her arrival. At first, she used her dad’s animosity toward me, but after the first few weeks, Xander got me drunk so I’d spill my secrets.
I told him I wouldn’t leave his daughter even if I died, and he smacked me upside the head.
Ilya, the idiot, told him that I got rid of Zayn and he personally did the cleanup. And while I’d planned to keep that information to myself, I’m thankful for the newfound respect Xander has for me ever since that night.
In fact, he thanked me for protecting Cecily when he wasn’t there. Little does he know that I wish I could revive that motherfucker Zayn and kill him all over again.
And again.
When I saw him sitting on her back while she was panting, I didn’t think about it as I pulled my knife and sliced his throat. He only saw me when the blood was exploding from his wound like a fountain.
If I’d been thinking straight, I wouldn’t have dirtied her with his blood. But I wasn’t. The only thing I was thinking about at the time was her safety and the crippling feeling at the possibility of losing her.
I only regret not having the chance to torture the fucker, but I can make up for that with Jonah. For the rest of his miserable life.
Anyway, despite Xander’s gratitude and the absence of an edge to his animosity, he still believes I should leave, per his daughter’s demands.
However, the genius way Kim handles him whenever she feels like he’s gone too far has saved me more times than I can count.
My day starts by waking up early in the penthouse of a building owned by my father, then I fix some breakfast for Ilya and me and we drive to Cecily’s house.
Usually, she has breakfast with her parents, her grandfathers, her uncle, and Ava. Sometimes, her mother’s friends join them. Other times, her father’s friends do. Upon meeting them a few times, I can absolutely see where the kids get their personalities from. Especially Remington. He’s a younger version of his father, Ronan, Xander’s closest and most chill friend.
Then I follow from afar as she goes to whatever organizations she volunteers at. Once, she pushed Ilya and me to give out food and shit because they were short on staff. Or more like, she pushed Ilya and told him to tell me to help instead of being a stalker with no purpose.
That’s what she does. She tells Ilya to tell me things when I’m right there, but she doesn’t speak to me.
I still follow her around anyway and make sure she gets home safe before I leave with the promise of seeing her again the next morning.
Some days, she stays home all day, reading, watching shit, and being Ava’s subject of torment. On other days, Ava convinces her to go out, and that usually ends up with them at the cinema, shopping, and fooling around. In classic Ava style, a documentary of each of their days is posted all over social media. One more thing to appreciate about the social butterfly.
Ilya and I try to remain as out of sight as possible so as not to disturb Cecily, but she sometimes looks at our hideout as if she always knows exactly where we are.
I guess being the subject of my ‘stalking’ for months has given her a pointer or two.
The other day, she was a bit drunk, stumbled to where I hid behind a corner, and said in a slur, “Why can’t you leave?”
“I just can’t,” I replied and held her so she wouldn’t fall.
She looked up at me with her big eyes, so lively and enchanting and fucking mine, pursed her lips, then murmured, “What if I don’t love you anymore?”
“Then I’ll make you love me again.”
“Prick,” she whispered, then fell asleep against my chest.
I stayed like that for far too long, enjoying the feeling of her body against mine until she started shivering from a cold breeze.
That’s when I drove her home and got a whole questionnaire from Xander about if I’d done something to his daughter.
I fucking wish, future father-in-law.
He’d be happy to know that drunken hug was the only time I’ve touched her so intimately in fucking months.
My hand and cock have a vendetta against her and will carry it out in full the moment I have her again.
But I have to put that on hold.
For now.
I watch her from my hideout behind the tree opposite the window of Glyndon’s house. I’ve come to know all their houses and their security, which are okay, I guess. They could use some improvement, but then again, they don’t share the lifestyle I have back at home.
Today is apparently Glyndon’s birthday and everyone is there—Killian included. He’s about to be punched by Landon and will eventually punch him back, and I’m here for the show.
Now, if only Kill will get rid of him for good, I’ll die a happy man.
As if knowing I’m outside, Landon leans in to tell Cecily something that she smiles at.
I tighten my grip on the bike’s handles, but I force myself to remain calm.
There’s nothing between them. He’s just getting on my last fucking nerve because of everything I did to ruin his fun right before school ended.
I slashed his tires, too, the other day, just to be a dick. Looks like I’ll have to bust the windows of his car next. While he’s inside it.
Can’t stand the fucking asshole.
I engrave every detail of Cecily to memory. The laughter, the beautiful flowery summer dresses she doesn’t shy away from wearing lately.
She doesn’t go into that paralyzed state either.
My Cecily has learned to move past her trauma and grow into this…ethereal being that I want to hide from the world.
But I can’t. And I won’t.
I just want to have her because I simply can’t imagine life without her.
After one last look at her, I slam down the shield of my helmet and rev my bike before I speed down the road.
Half an hour later, I’m at the airport. One of my father’s guards nods at me, and I nod back. I stare behind me in search of Ilya since he’s supposed to bring the car and follow after.