Page 20 of Stalker Daddy

Cyrus and Alana trust him; they find him to be a credible man who Cyrus had fought in battle with.

I should get a doctor to check me out because I don’t want anything to hinder the upcoming performance.

“Drink, darling.”A shock of coldness runs with a shiver up my spine when the icy feel of a water glass hits my arm.

I turn and accept the glass of water.The coldness gushing down my throat and soothing the coiling organs inside of me brings attention to the clear glass as I contemplate the fact that I never told Vito about my habit of destressing with cold water.

Medically, I don’t think it’s healthy, but it’s what works.

“Refrigerated water is the only filtered water this cabin has,” he explains.

My eyebrows unfurrow themselves, and I shoot him a grateful smile through a shaky breath.I’m honestly ashamed of myself for suspecting Vito; he has done nothing to harm me, and everything could be explained through common sense.

Whether he realized the inner turmoil I had not long ago or not, Vito says nothing about my strange behavior.

Sometimes it’s better to say nothing than to open up a can of worms that can become a problem when the solution is clear as day.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

He hums.“Very welcome, darling.”

I close my eyes again and let my mind wander to a peaceful moment.The steady thump of his heart and the heat of his body weighs on my conscience.I feel guilty for thinking that he was the stalker, and I know I should apologize, so I brace myself with disappointment on his face.

“I’m sorry…” I whisper, too inaudible even in my own ears, but he hears it.

He doesn’t ask the reason behind the apology.“It’s alright.There’s no need to apologize.”

“But—” I protest hastily, head leaving the crook of his neck.

He detaches my arm around him and inspects the smeared blood on my wrist.“Let’s have this bandage.We wouldn’t want an infection, do we?”

When he says it like that, there is no way I would not listen to him.Having an infection on my hands could be equivalent to pouring the effort of being a violinist down the drain.I didn’t work this hard to have my career put on a scuba suit and dive into the depth of the ocean.

I nod wordlessly.Vito sets me on the sofa and goes to search for a Band-Aid.He comes back with a single sheet of alcohol wipe that stings the small pricked wound, but the burning sensation is covered by a clear Band-Aid.

I thank him with a kiss on the cheek when the corner of my eye catches something.I turn and tilt my head in confusion.

It’s stuck between the folds of the blanket, and when I tug it out, it’s a Polaroid of me sleeping on the sofa minutes ago.

My hand trembles with a strong tremor, and the photo drops onto the blanket.I choke out a terrified scream and bury my face in my hands.

The space beside me dips, and Vito’s heavy arm wraps around my shoulders to bring me to his side.I peer at him warily, unshed tears rolling in my eyes as the stress is getting too much for me.

Someone was in the cabin, photographed me, and left a souvenir to tell me that he was here.It has to be the stalker.No one has been this consistently terrorizing me other than him.

Vito picks up the Polaroid and flips it over with a glare.His gray eyes almost touch black as his lips peel back with a sneer, angry and bitter.

“I want to go back to the city, Daddy.Please!I don’t want to be here anymore!”

He nods in agreement.“We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Chapter Six

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Vito

“Did you pack everything, darling?”I ask from the kitchen.

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