Page 184 of Little Sunshine

Heading up to Maximo’s penthouse, I prepared for tears. For hesitancy. For her to be pulled into herself like before.

But the moment I stepped off the elevator, Mila launched herself at me—and not in an attempt to punch my dick again. If I hadn’t lifted her, I was pretty sure she would’ve climbed me like a tree.

Thank fucking hell.

The tightness that’d bunched my shoulders and the acid that’d burned in my gut both instantly lessened the second I had her in my arms.

I cupped the back of her head. “Hey, sunshine.”

“Daddy,” she breathed, clutching me tight. “Tell me everything.”

“When we get to our place.”

“You better mean here because there is no way I can make it all the way home.”

“Here it is.”

With a quick goodbye to Juliet, Mila and I got on the elevator. As soon as we stepped out into the penthouse, she repeated her order. “Tell me everything.”

“Camila, baby, you gotta know, I had nothing to?—”

She waved away my assertion. “I know that.”

I was sure as shit glad to hear it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t shocking. “You do?”

“You wouldn’t physically hurt a woman.” A small smile curved her mouth. “Not in that way, and not anyone but me. But that still doesn’t explain what happened.”

Before I could give her the rundown of the meeting at the station, I had to backtrack to fill her in on Eternal Sun. Like my initial assumption, she’d guessed her mother was indebted to a wannabe mobster or shot caller. A cult leader was a curveball she hadn’t seen coming. Even though she hadn’t known about her mother’s involvement with the organization, she wasn’t surprised.

Apparently, Veronica had always been a magnet for an assortment of different fuckery.

When I was done, I gathered Mila closer on my lap and kissed her forehead. “How’re you really doing?”

“I feel awful,” she admitted. “After everything yesterday…”

“I know. A lot of shit was said and?—"

“No, not that. I stand by everything I said. I’m actually really relieved I had the chance to say it all, which makes me feel guilty. And then I feel worse for not feeling sad. I’m just left with the same vague sadness someone might feel when they hear a stranger died. But that’s it. Does that make me the worst person?”

“No, baby. I think that’s normal.”

“I still feel guilty.”

“What can I do?”

“Would it be awful if we just acted like it’s a normal day?”

I squeezed her ass. “Even if that means a punishment?”

She shot me a stern look. “I’m not the one who earned one for lying.”

“You’re not spanking Daddy.”

She laughed. “Nope, your punishment is the infamous lobster story. You owe me that much.”

At her sweet laughter, I would’ve given her the world.

I could give her my shame instead.

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