Page 78 of Punish Me, Daddy

I sat up slowly, pulling the silk robe from the bedpost and shrugging it around my shoulders. The necklace was still there—his mother’s—and it felt heavier now. Not just sentimental. Not just symbolic. Heavy like a chain. Like a vow I hadn’t agreed to.

I padded into the hallway barefoot, steps light and careful. The penthouse had that same early morning hush—still, expensive—like even the air was curated.

There were muted voices near the entry. I stopped. Just around the corner, I heard the shift of boots and a quiet, clipped exchange.

It was Nikolai and someone else. One of the guards, maybe? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t lean out and look for fear of getting caught.

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” Nikolai said, his voice calm, casual. That same authority he always wore, buttoned up and quiet. “I’ve got a meeting with my brothers. We’ll be going over the Murphy import routes, checking in on the new docks.”

My heart pounded.

So this was real Bratva business. No performative crime lord shit. Just logistics, power consolidation, the kind of stuff that ran this city under the surface.

“She stays in the suite,” he continued. “No visitors. No calls. No wandering.”

I leaned a little closer, chest tightening.

“And if she tries anything?” the guard asked.

A beat of silence.

Then Nikolai’s voice, quiet and self-assured.

“Don’t stop her.”

The guard shifted. “Sir?”

“Let her think she’s being clever,” Nikolai murmured. “Let her make the first move.”

My mouth went dry.

“She’ll be easier to tame when she learns I already know all her tricks.”

I didn’t hear the rest. I was already moving, quietly backtracking through the hall before either of them noticed me. My heart hammered against my ribs.

So he knew I was playing him. That should have thrown me for a loop, but it didn’t. Instead, I felt a sense of relief because I was done being docile. Done being dressed up in the clothes he picked out for me, waiting for the next command, the next kiss on the forehead, the next soft look that made me forget I was in a gilded cage of his making.

This was my chance.

The moment he walked out that door, he’d be expecting me to get lazy. Maybe he thought I was softened by sentiment. Seduced by the necklace around my throat and the plate ofpelmenihe made with his mother’s recipe.

But he didn’t know I’d been casing this place since the second I got there. Every hallway. Every locked door. Every camera blind spot. Every passcode typed in too slowly.

He didn’t know I had Ghost.

I had time.

I slipped back into the hallway and down the hall toward his office. I tried the doorknob and found it locked.

Bastard.Little did he know that a locked door wasn’t enough to stop me.

I’d picked locks harder than that in six-inch stilettos with a hangover.

It took me twelve minutes. Two broken pins. One whisper of victory as the latch gave way and the door opened with a soft click. I slipped inside and closed the door behind me.

The room was colder than the rest of the penthouse. It smelled like him, and I breathed in deep, trying not to let his scent comfort me. The desk sat like a royal thing, the computer screen asleep, although it wouldn’t be for long.

I slid into his chair and reached for the keyboard, heart racing as I tapped the spacebar. The screen bloomed to life, and I didn’t waste a single second for fear of getting caught.

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