Page 44 of Wings
"It's a day collar," I explained, needing her to understand. "Something you can wear all the time, even at work. A reminder that you have a Daddy who's thinking about you, watching over you, making sure you're okay."
Her fingers hovered over it, not quite touching. "It's beautiful."
"You're beautiful," I corrected. "This is just . . . marking what's already true. That you're mine. That I'm yours. That we're building something worth protecting."
Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she was smiling. "Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes, I want it. Yes, I want to be yours. Yes to all of it." She turned on the bench, offering me her neck. "Please, Daddy."
My hands trembled as I lifted the collar from its box. Such a simple thing, but it felt like the most important mission I'd ever undertaken. Getting it wrong wasn't an option.
"Once this is on," I said, positioning it at her throat, "it's not a game. Not something we do just in the nursery. This is real, Ki. Every day, everywhere. You wear my collar, you're under my protection. My rules. My care."
"I understand." Her voice was steady, sure. "I want that. Want to belong to you."
The collar settled against her skin like it had been made for her. Which it had—I'd spent hours with the jeweler, making sure it would be perfect. The butterfly sat right at the hollow of her throat, wings spread in eternal flight.
I found the tiny lock at the back, hidden in the clasp design. "Last chance to change your mind."
She reached back, covering my hands with hers. "Lock it. Please."
The click was soft, almost lost in the sound of water and wings. But I felt it in my bones, that tiny sound that changed everything. She was mine now. Officially. Irrevocably.
She turned to face me, fingers going immediately to the butterfly. The wonder in her eyes made every doubt I'd had evaporate. This was right. We were right.
"How does it feel?" I asked, though I could see the answer in how she glowed.
"Like coming home," she whispered. "Like I can finally stop running."
I pulled her into my arms, crushing her against me while butterflies danced around us like a blessing. She clung just as tight, and I felt her tears against my neck, but they were good tears. Healing tears.
"My baby girl," I murmured into her hair. "My perfect, beautiful baby girl."
"Your baby girl," she agreed, and the butterflies seemed to dance faster, celebrating with us.
She laughed, soft and content, fingers playing with the collar. We sat in comfortable silence, surrounded by beauty, her weight perfect in my arms.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I almost ignored it—nothing was more important than this moment—but it buzzed again. Then again.
"Someone really wants your attention," Ki observed, shifting so I could dig it out.
Duke's name on the screen made me frown. Three texts in rapid succession wasn't his style unless something was wrong.
I opened them, and my frown transformed into a grin.
"What?" Ki tried to see, but I held the phone away playfully.
"Patience, baby girl."
I read Duke's messages again, just to be sure. The lawyers had done it. Hospital investigation closed. Anonymous complainttraced and dismissed as harassment. Kiara Mitchell cleared to return to work immediately if she wanted.
"Gabe, what is it?" Now she was really curious, sitting up in my lap.
I set the phone aside, cupping her face so I could see her reaction. "The club lawyers did it, baby girl. You're cleared. You can go back to work."
Her mouth dropped open. "What? But—how? It's only been—"
