All Chapters of Best Friend's Daddy, Billionaire Devil: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

“Listen.” I hold my hands up, palms facing outward, as I work to remind myself who I’m looking at. This is her father. She loves him. She wouldn't want this. “I have nothing against you personally. Even when I knew you were knocking yourself out trying to pin a charge on me, I said, I get it. The man has a job to do. I even respect it. And the only reason I could, was because I knew you'd never be able to make a charge stick. I'm too fucking smart for that. Still, I didn't rub it in your face. Nevertheless, here you are, driving up to my house, writing checks you can’t hope to cash. Are you sure this is how you want it to be?”A tear escapes his eye and rolls down his cheek, sparkling in the sunshine. “You ruined my daughter!” he bellows.Ruined her? “If she wants to be with me, she can be. She's a grown woman who can make her own goddamn decisions. She doesn't need her daddy telling her what to do anymore.”When his face falls, and he takes a staggering step back as if I’ve hit him,

“I can't tell you how many times and by how many people he was asked to back off. It got to the point that he was wasting time and company resources. He'd be here well into the night, making phone calls, pestering potential witnesses. Ultimately, he got demoted after he tried to stage a raid on one of Rossetti’s businesses without bothering to obtain a warrant.”I thought it couldn’t get worse. “Are you talking about when he went from lieutenant then back down to detective?” That makes sense why he was demoted so suddenly.He nods slowly. “I hated to see it happen. We'd been partners for years by then, and I considered him one of my closest friends, if not the closest. He was the youngest lieutenant in the department—there was no telling how far he could’ve gone. The potential was endless.” His shoulders slump. “But even I couldn't get through to him. Nobody could. There I was, thinking the demotion might shake him out of things. Like he would finally learn his lesson, step away, and

Fuck, Caterina is wreaking havoc on my mind and body. Destroying me from the inside out. Chipping away at the old pieces of me, causing something new to grow in its place. When I reach my office, the light aroma of vanilla hits me first.I smell her before I see her. She’s seated in my chair, her feet up on the desk. She's holding a glass of whiskey in one hand, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. Her dark russet brown hair hangs in thick waves over her shoulders, and her full mouth is pursed in thought.Incredible, the number of reactions a person can have all at once. Joy floods me, followed by relief. She’s here. My arms ache to hold her as my hands stir to reach out and touch her. It's been days since I’ve last touched her skin. Even now, I have to wonder how I’ve lived this long without the feel of her skin, the smell of her hair, and the touch of her soft curves beneath my fingertips. As always, there's that hunger burning low in my gut, threatening to unleash itself.To

CATERINAI’m dreaming. I have to be. If I’m not, then I somehow have to sort all of this to make sense and I don’t know if I can do that. He can't mean what he’s saying. This is just another game, another test. It’s his way of finding out whether I'm for real. Pushing me the way he always does.Nonetheless, he sounds like he means it.When he says he loves me, it sounds real. I want to believe it. No, I need to, or else what was all of this for? I know what this is, except I’m afraid to believe it. That’s the problem. It could be another game. Another level to the mental torment he puts me through. Will I shoot him if he says he loves me? And what if I did? Where would that get him?None of it makes sense, but then again, nothing about him ever has.“Pull the trigger,” he whispers, the fight draining from his voice. He sounds sad, like he's giving in to the inevitable.“You know I won't.” I still grasp the butt of the gun without taking my finger off the trigger. “I can't.”All that l

GIANNII have prepared for meetings with highly violent, volatile men and felt less pressure than I do now, putting together a tray of food and coffee in the kitchen for which I plan to bring up to the bedroom. Caterina was asleep when I left her there, sprawled out on her stomach, her hair fanned out across the pillow. I could have laid there for hours watching her. Soaking in her soft sighs, the rhythm of her breathing, and the way her brow would sometimes wrinkle. Like even in her sleep, her troubles follow her.Today is a new day, and I hope, as I gather breakfast with Sheryl's help, that between last night and this morning I can convince my little bird that I'm committed to taking as much of her troubles away as I can.“I take it Miss Caterina is back?” Sheryl's eyes twinkle as she fills up a platter of muffins, fruit, and cheese. “This is what she likes best for breakfast.”“I'm sure she'll appreciate your thoughtfulness.” So do I, but it's unusual being in this situation. Almos