Page 8 of Big Bad Daddy

I consider using Gaspar to stage a distraction. His presence alone would frighten most shoppers into leaving and persuade every salesperson to follow him throughout the store. That would give me time to slip upstairs and find Sybil on my own. I play the scenario in my head and decide against it. In this instance, it might go smoother if I simply ask to speak to her and take it from there.

“I wonder if you could help me,” I inquire politely, using a rarely seen smile to put her at ease. “Will you please tell SybilSheridan that Boris is here? She’s expecting me.” My poker face works. She doesn’t doubt me or attempt to clarify. With a simple nod, she spins on her heel and marches upstairs to the second floor.

I release a sigh of relief and wait impatiently, pretending to shop for clothes and wondering how Sybil would look in a tiny black dress that catches my eye. It looks like nothing more than an over-glorified slip, but the thought of slipping the thin straps off her shoulders, cupping her naked breasts while my cock plunges in and out of her wet pussy makes my cock throb against my thigh. Maybe soon, we’ll come back together, and I’ll convince her to wear it while we fuck.

I’m getting ahead of myself, but it’s been so long since a woman has aroused me to the point of distraction. I fear I’m much too eager to take things slow.

“Mr. Volkov?” The familiar sound of Sybil’s voice, the one that’s replayed in my mind for the past three days, rouses me out of a lovesick daze. Warm amber eyes greet me, and the sweet smile on her lips makes my heart race like a thoroughbred stallion.

For three days, I’ve stared longingly at her photos, tracing every perfect curve and memorizing the far-off look in her eyes, dumbstruck by her beauty. I yearned to be on the receiving end of her gaze and wished for another opportunity to put things in motion.

As she draws closer, I wipe the foolish grin off my face and swallow hard, resolved to return to my natural state and take charge of the situation. “Miss Sheridan, forgive me for intruding on your work.” I take both her hands in mine and lead her into a corner, away from wandering shoppers attempting to eavesdrop on our conversation. Sybil fidgets, shifting her weight from one leg to another, her hands trembling in mine. “I think we can help one another.”

Sybil lifts her chin, dropping her head back to look me in the eyes. Her wide gaze holds hope, like I’ve just given her the answer to her prayers. “Did you find Scarlett?”

“No, but I know she’s safe. Four of my best men are hunting for their location, but my son must have powered off his and Scarlett’s electronics before they headed in whatever direction they were in to keep us from finding him.” I watch her wide-eyed and optimistic expression fall into sadness, and my heart stings with remorse. It’s an unfamiliar emotion. In life, I do what I have to do and stand by my decisions without regret. But this is different. I hate failing her.

I don’t know where her friend is, but I have an idea. I received a message from my son’s bodyguard, Artem, who suggested the couple is tucked away in my safe house in Croton, less than an hour away. He doesn’t believe anyone has seen Vasily and Scarlett because they spend most of their day indoors, screwing their brains out. I should share information with Sybil immediately, but as soon as she feels secure in her friend’s safety, she won’t have much use for me.

Will more time make a difference? I’d like to find out.

“Oh, well, that’s something,” Sybil whispers as she flutters her eyelashes to hold back the start of tears. “Will you keep me posted?” Her trembling voice and quivering lip make me step closer, surrounding her in my hungry arms. The scent of her perfume steals my strength, and my embrace lingers, savoring every second with gluttonous delight.

“If you have the time, we’ll conduct our own investigation,” I suggest, my heart racing as I wait for the answer I crave.

Sybil has no reason to trust me. She may not know everything about me, but she alluded she’d heard of my reputation when she visited me at home.

Sybil’s eyes grow as wide as saucers and her lips part with surprise before she finally replies, “You want me to help you? I thought you didn’t want me interfering with this?”

“I misspoke in haste. You were obviously distressed, and I behaved somewhat inconsiderately of your feelings. I want to make it up to you by offering you an opportunity to help me. I have a few leads to explore, and I thought I should invite you to come along.” My mind jumps from one thought to another, but I keep my voice steady. This may be the closest I’ve ever come to a sincere apology, even if it is self-serving.

“When could we get started? Soon?” She clasps her hands in front of her chest, emulating prayer. “I’m happy she’s safe, but I don’t think I’ll feel right until I see her in person.”

I nod, hypnotized by the tender look of faith Sybil grants me. She bounces on the balls of her feet with hopeful enthusiasm, and my eyes focus on the subtle jiggle of her supple breasts. My mouth waters in tandem with my lengthening cock. I’m unsure how I’ll ever survive an evening alone with her without shredding her dress and burying my mouth in her pussy.

“I understand. We can start tomorrow afternoon. Is there any chance you’re available this evening? I need to request a favor, if and only if you’re comfortable with it,” I say, aware that my stern expression leaves no room for argument. “I have a dinner party to attend at a friend's home. It appears everyone is taking a guest, and my earlier intention was to take Vasily. Will you accompany me? I can be at your apartment by 7:30. Yarina’s home is only a few blocks from yours.”

“You know where I live?” she stammers, biting her lip as she wrings her hands, justifiably concerned that a mobster knows her address.

“I know everything, Sybil. It’s my job to know everything,” I answer and use my thumb to lift her chin, hoping to gaze into her honey eyes once more before I leave. “It’s not business. Yarinaholds these dinners as a neutral event, where allies and rivals break bread and try not to kill one another.”

Sybil seductively licks her lips; at least, I want to believe it’s provocative, then nods. “Is it dangerous?”

“I’ll never place you in danger, sweetheart. Trust me, Sybil. I’ll guard you with my life.”

Chapter Seven

“Sybil, start from the beginning. You’re not making sense. Is this a date or a meeting to discuss Scarlett?” Tasha stands behind me, hands on her hips, and lectures me while I frantically look through my closet.

There was nothing confusing about my sudden declaration. I expected questions and pushback, so I waited until an afternoon cocktail dulled her senses and stunted her overactive imagination. I’m not sure it did the trick.

“It’s both. Boris needs a date for this dinner. I believe the hostess, Yarina Pavlova, is eager to set him up with her niece. He doesn’t want to lead anyone on and make them think he’s interested in more. I asked him for help, and this is a way to repay his kindness.” I stumble over my words, unsure how it might sound.

Her wide, round eyes immediately tell me she’s misinterpreted my confession.

“Are you exchanging favors?” Tasha asks, her voice sharp with judgment.

I don’t blame her. It sounds salacious and suspicious, but his invitation makes me believe he took my offer seriously and in the manner it was intended. Boris assured me this wasn’t an actual date. He asked me to pretend to be his significant other, but set a firm boundary for my comfort. And I appreciate his consideration.

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