Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
He returns to the drawer and pulls something else out. It’s pastel pink, and when he shakes it out, I see it’s a cotton dress. A very pretty one with white lace around the hem and at the short sleeves. I probably owned something like it when I was a toddler.
It’s been a long time since I’ve had pretty things or clothes that fit me. My mother had some nice clothes when she died, but they disappeared, so when I eventually needed larger clothes and Vincent told me to find whatever I needed in my mother’s closet, nothing was left but ugly dreary garments that barely fit me.
“Arms up, Little doll.”
I lift my hands above my head and let Daddy pull the dress down my body. It fits perfectly, except for the fact that it barely reaches past my butt and I’m not wearing a bra.
I haven’t worn a bra in years. My mother had much bigger breasts than me, so when I outgrew my bras, hers were too big, and I just stopped wearing one. I certainly wasn’t going to ask Vincent for something so personal. It was bad enough that I had to remind him to buy me feminine pads once a month. He always seemed put out, as if it were my fault I had my period every twenty-eight days just to inconvenience him.
Daddy cups my breasts through the cotton, causing my nipples to pebble. In this dress, people will see them. I never let my nipples show. I always wear a sweater over my shirts to prevent that.
“I noticed you weren’t wearing a bra when you came here yesterday, Little doll. Do you not like them?”
My face heats. I guess he doesn’t think I look appropriate either. My bottom lip trembles, and tears come to my eyes.
“Hey… What are the tears for?” Squatting down in front of me, he pulls me into his arms.
I lean into him and cry, really cry. It bubbles out of nowhere. Years of frustration and sadness catch up with me. “I’m sorry,” I manage to mumble between sobs.
Daddy scoops me off the floor and brings me to his chest. “Goodness, sweetness, why are you sorry?”
Sniffling, I manage to murmur, “Because I look ridiculous in this dress without a bra. You’re embarrassed.”
He gasps and holds me back to look me in the eyes. “That is not true, Little doll. You’re stunning in this dress. I wouldn’t put a bra on you if I had ten of them. I like having access to your breasts and being able to see the hard points of your nipples.”
I swallow hard, trying to stop the tears. He wouldn’t lie to me. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I hold his shoulders and clear my throat. “I only had my mother’s bras. They were too big, so I stopped wearing them a few years ago.”
“Ah. And you weren’t about to ask Vincent to buy you new ones.”
“Right.”
“Is that why your clothes didn’t fit? They were your mother’s?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’ll have your own clothes now, and we didn’t order you any bras yesterday. We’ll do that with our next order, okay? I like you in as little clothing as possible when we’re alone, but we’ll dress you in warmer, less-revealing clothes when we go out.”
I finally manage to smile. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“You’re welcome. Now, let’s eat breakfast.”
Chapter Fourteen
Orion
“What did you find out?” I ask Pryce after breakfast. Cora is strapped in her booster seat at the island where I’ve given her a coloring book and pencils. I wanted to stab Jones in the chest with a dull butter knife when Cora’s face lit up. The poor woman hasn’t had anything entertaining or fun for years.
When my phone buzzed in my pocket, I stepped across the room to take the call. The cabin isn’t that large, so I can’t really hide my side of the conversation, but I can keep my voice low while I get the scoop from Pryce.
“It’s as you suspected. That fucker doesn’t own the house. He wasn’t on the deed, nor did Cora’s mother have a will.”
“Could he possibly contest that? I mean, he could say that he was owed the room and board for staying to take care of Cora.”
“Ah, but I didn’t say there wasn’t a will at all. I said that Cora’s mother didn’t have one. The homestead belonged to her grandmother before her. The woman left the house to Cora’s mother in her will, and, more importantly, Cora’s grandmother stipulated that the property would go to Cora in the event that her mother passed.”
My breath hitches. I glance at my girl. She’s no longer coloring. In fact, she’s staring at me. I’m sure she heard my mumbled words. I’m livid. That son of a bitch came here yesterday to see about selling off a part of his homestead when the truth is he didn’t own it in the first place.