The Billionaire's Fragile Bride

12. HOT FOR DADDY

Exhaustion seared through Callan as he wobbled into the presidential suite. He flung his blazer on the couch and without prior notice, it flew breezily and landed on Orla's head where she had drifted to sleep after being unproductive the whole day.

She jumped in agitation, her eyes cautiously searching the room for the intruder. Her gaze met with Callan's scornful stares, and she immediately lowered her eyes to the floor before those weary-looking eyes swallowed her up.

"Welcome back," she muttered, still circumventing his heavy gaze.

He heard her audibly, but he chose to ignore it. Striding towards the closet, he took his button-down shirt off his body, followed by every other fabric that clad his body.

Orla slumbered up, she made an attempt to pick her cat but she flew off her arms and ran towards Callan, hugging herself all over his leg.

He immediately shook his leg off, turning to Orla with that deadly glare again. "What the fuck is this?" Irritation bleed in his loud baritone voice that pierced her eardrums.

"I am sorry." She breathed, grabbing her cat. "I am sorry about what she did." 

"I won't take this! Slow girl. No, I won't let your pet create a nuisance in my room!"

"Please," Orla shut her eyes, tears gathering in her swollen eyes, worried Callan wouldn't grant her request, but she let it out anyway. "I promise to be more careful with Betty, but don't tell me to throw her off. I can't do that, she's the only friend I have in the world and I will be incomplete without her. Please, can I keep her?" She opened her eyes and they met with Callan's hard one, but his expression softened for a few seconds before it hardened again. She could swear she saw that softness in his eyes even though it was ephemeral.

Callan sighed and shook his head. He walked away without saying anything to her. He had planned to punish her for talking back at him earlier that morning, but maybe that wasn't necessary anymore. 

He stood in front of his closet and turned his back to Orla but he listened as she whispered to her cat, scolding her and threatening to give her up if she went about creating a scene. 

He wriggled his head again, forcing a tight-lipped smile. Orla was crazy, who talked to animals like they were humans? The smile quickly faded, he should be stricter with her, not smiling at a stupid act of hers.

"Don't you change clothes?" He queried, not sparing her a look. 

Orla stared down at him. She didn't expect him to ask her that kind of question, she didn't know that he noticed that she was still putting on the same shirt from last night—his t-shirt.

"I don't have dresses to change into." She fiddled with the hem of the shirt she donned.

"I see," he grumbled, returning to sorting out the clothes he wanted to wear after taking a shower. When he was done picking a T-shirt and slacks, he looked at Orla and tossed a long shirt at her.

She received the shirt before it fell to the floor. She smiled as she ran her fingers through the material, but her smile quickly faltered when Callan said, "It's one of my old shirts, it's useless here."

"Oh, thanks." She bowed, mortification consuming her. 

"We are moving out tomorrow, until then you can wear that. Rosa will get new dresses for you soon." He walked towards her, clad only in his drawls and his chest was bare. 

His buff body steadying with every stride he took. Orla's eyes lingered on his tattooed barrel-chest. She hadn't seen it before. It was a drawing of a butterfly, perfectly etched on his skin. The drawing was beautiful just like he was.

Orla swallowed hard as he neared her. She shut her eyes, the proximity was arching, she didn't like that. But it was inescapable now, he was right in front of her, closer than she imagined and too bad she couldn't flee.

He leaned forward, stretching his hand towards her back. Her breaths became erratic, her heart thumping hard against her ribcage.

"Move aside," his growl was commanding and without hesitation, she did. Callan bent over, slowly grabbing the blazer he had flung on her head before. He wondered why her eyes were still shut. "You must be a clown to think that I was about to kiss you, Slow girl." He chuckled and at that instant, Orla opened her eyes, feeling so embarrassed.

"I didn't have such a thought." She said innocently. "Thanks for the shirt." She rose to her feet and quickly grabbed her cat before running into the room.

Her heartbeat was back to normal, but she was still trying to decipher what happened there. She didn't expect him to kiss her, but why did she close her eyes?

"Crazy, I must be crazy." She whispered to herself, hugging Betty to her chest. "I am crazy and I know and that's why no one wants me." She was still ranting when a thought hit her, causing her chest to sting badly.

She knew it would happen, she expected it. She knew nobody in her family cared about her, but at least, maybe her father should have given her a call. 

The fact that she was still his daughter, he should have called to know how she was fairing in the hands of Callan. That was what she thought and that was how she felt, but it was just her thoughts and feelings, it was never going to happen.

A tear stained her cheek as she thought of her family. She had tried to get them off her mind, but it couldn't be helped. She wished things were different, she wished she was loved, even though it was a tiny bit, and she wished she was like her other sisters. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a knock at the door of the small room she was in with Betty.

"Who's that?" She asked.

"Callan." His voice was gentle. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and hurried to get to the door.

She pulled it open and saw Callan standing next to the door, all tall and gracious, his eyes were glued to his phone. She checked him out before he turned to her.

"Here," he gave a bag to her. "Rosa was quick to get her job done." He said and walked away.

Orla rested her back on the door, looking at Callan as he walked into the large bedroom. Her mind was blank, she didn't know what she was thinking of as she fixed her eyes on him. 

He unbuckled the belt of the robe he wore, humming a song as he shuffled into the bathroom. She shut the door and smiled. "What's in here?" Her curiosity grew big.

There was a small piece of paper inside the bag, she picked it up and glanced through it. Her eyes grew bigger and smaller as she read the words. "Wear this and look hot for Daddy tonight."

With trembling hands, she rummaged through the bag and inside were lingeries, not just one but about five of them in different colours and designs.

"Lingeries?" She almost yelled, her heart racing again. "What am I supposed to do with these?" She picked up one of the tiny materials and checked it out, then it dawned on her. 

What do couples do after getting married? Confusion set in again when she remembered Callan told her he would never desire her body. But what if he had changed his mind? Maybe he couldn't hold his wants for too long, maybe he just wanted her now.

Orla collapsed on the bed, running her fingers on her temples, she whispered, "Oh God, not now."

Faithy💓