Crave Me, Daddy's Good Girl

VERONICA POV "Why don't you put these glasses on?" I stood in my hot-red lingerie, waiting for my boyfriend of five years to get off work on the night of our fifth anniversary. The first thing he said to me after walking into our bedroom was that. "W-what?" I've known for a long time that things haven't been the best in our sex life. Jason always seems like he'd rather be anywhere but with me whenever we're in bed. But seeing the look of disinterest as he scans my body breaks my heart more than just a little. I can't help but cover my body even more in shame.

He's holding up a pair of glasses, and it's not just that - in his arms are clothes: a revealing tank top and an extremely short tennis skirt. "Jason, what is this?" "It's just something to spice up the bedroom, Veronica. Don't think too much about it, c'mon... come try it on." "But this isn't even my style. It seems like... something Moni, my best friend, would wear." When I trail off, his face contorts and I know instantly I've messed up. He's angry now, throwing the clothes on the floor and cursing. I flinch back instinctively, scared he might raise his hands on me as usual. "So, we can't even try something new?! I'm sick and tired of your bullshit, Veronica! This is why you're not attractive anymore!" His words rip me apart and my eyes burn with unshed tears. "Jaso-" "Veronica! Earth to Veronica!" My best friend, Moni, singsongs, snapping me out of my thoughts. We're catching up in a café. She just got back in town after three years last month, and we've barely been able to see each other since. I wince. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking about last night..." "Oh, fuck that loser!" Moni snaps. I have no idea why she hates Jason so much. It makes no sense. "You deserve way better, babe. Don't stress over that shithead... okay?" I nod slowly, forcing a small smile even though the word stings. "But don't call him shithead. He's still my sweetheart. It was just a little misunderstanding. She rolls her eyes. "Oh please... you keep-" Her phone rings. "Babe..." flashes on the screen with a red heart emoji. "I have to take this. I'll be right back," she says, already standing and walking toward the entrance. Babe? Moni never told me she had a boyfriend... She's one of the biggest men-haters I know ever since the incident that happened back in high school with her ex. Is she hiding things from me now? "Hey, waiter," I call, waving him over. "Two lattes and two croissants, please." "Five minutes," he says. I nod. Moni bounces back to the table, face glowing. "Veronica, my boss at the art gallery just called. I have to go now. When would you be heading home? I need to know what time to come over later." I raise an eyebrow. "Are you dating your boss or having some dirty secret affair?" She laughs, but I could tell, for a fact, it was halfhearted. "What do you mean by that, Veronica? My boss? Oh please, that man is a jerk." "You're hiding something from me now?" "Girl, please. I'm not Jason," she snaps. "Just tell me when you'll be home." I swallow hard. "I'm not sure yet. I haven't heard anything from the medical department. But probably in about four hours." Her smile flashes. "Perfect. Love you-bye!" She's already halfway to the door. "Wait-the extra croissant-" Damn it. She's gone. The waiter arrives with the tray. "Can you pack one latte and one croissant to go instead?" "Yeah sure, ma'am," he says with the standard customer-service smile. My phone buzzes; it's a message notification from Diana, my sister. I set a special notification tone so I could know when her text came through. Diana: The medical defense class got shifted today. There is no information yet on when it's supposed to hold. "Yesss!" I whisper-shout, my elbow banging the table a little too hard from excitement. I wasn't even mentally prepared for that defense. This Medical school is, honestly, just a way to go insane while pretending I'm learning to save lives. I spill a little latte but savor the croissant. I booked an Uber while eating. About forty-five minutes later, the driver arrived. I grab my bags and head out. The ride is quiet at first, but the driver keeps trying to make small talk. I give short answers; I'm not in the mood. I should have noticed his bio earlier- "extremely fun talkative ride." I roll my eyes, staring out the window. My mind drifts back to Jason, to the horrible things he said last night. I glance at my watch. He won't be home yet. Maybe I should surprise him with a quick romantic dinner. Good thing Moni's coming over later. It'd be more fun since she's great with people, just that she hates Jason for reasons I don't fully understand. She's disliked him before I ever told her how badly he treats me, which has always felt a little strange. But she could pretend... just for one night. I pay the driver and step out. I unlock the door, set my bag on the couch, and head toward the kitchen. "I should start right away." Just as I'm about entering the kitchen, a sudden noise from upstairs causes me to halt in my tracks. My heart slams against my ribs. Is someone else in the house? Did I just walk in on a burglar? No one ever comes over-it's just Jason and me. And Jason won't be home until seven. However, at that moment, I realized something. Earlier last week, Jason had mentioned that his hired mom - the woman his adoptive father had hired to stand in as his mother... would be coming to stay with us for a little while for aftercare following her chemotherapy. But what if it isn't her? I scan the room for anything I could use to defend myself, just in case, but there's literally nothing. I tiptoe into the kitchen, grab a frying pan, and weigh it in my hands. "I'm not ready to hurt anyone, but what choice do I have?" I pause at the bottom of the stairs, testing each step to make sure none creaks. They seem fine. I climb slowly, heart pounding so loud I'm sure whoever's up there can hear it. Veronica, you have to be strong, I tell myself, then whisper a quick childhood-habit prayer. "Please be Mom... please be Mom..." I whisper, biting the inside of my cheeks. I follow the sounds-familiar giggling, too familiar-and it's coming from... I swallow hard... Jason's bedroom. A wave of relief flickers across my face. That doesn't sound like a burglar. So if it isn't a burglar, then who? But I've never met Jason's mom, let alone heard her voice. So it's certain it isn't her. I creep closer. A low male groan follows the giggling. "Moni... you're so fucking wet," Jason's voice drifts through the door. My eyes widen. No. This can't be happening...it just can't. I stand outside Jason's bedroom, praying this was some sort of misunderstanding. With my trembling hands, I push the door open just enough to see. The sight greets me like a punch to my gut. I stagger back a step, one hand flying to my mouth to stifle the gasp. My knees feel weak, like they might give out. In the middle of the bed, Jason lies flat. My very own childhood best friend straddles him, completely naked, riding him. His cock slides in and out of her as she moans loudly, her head thrown back. "Mmhm... yes, right there, daddy... you fuck me so good." Tears sting my eyes instantly. I press the sleeve of my hoodie to my face to wipe them away before they fall. His grip tightens on Moni's ass, spreading her cheeks wider. Th... those glasses... that was the exact pair he tried to make me wear last night. This is why. He's wanted her all along. He's been trying to turn me into her because I wasn't enough. "Bet my pussy is way juicier than Veronica's, right?" Moni gasps. "It does... fuck, it does," he groans, spanking her ass hard. How long has this been going on? Was it because of her that Jason lost interest in me? For a split second, I imagine swinging the pan at both of them, making them pay. But that's not me. I set the pan down quietly on the floor, just incase I change my mind. I don't trust myself right now. My chest tightens. The tears burn, rising fast, threatening to spill. But I hold them back. I can't let them see me broken. I straighten my spine, cross my arms tight over my chest, and clear my throat, trying to sound steady, firm, anything but broken. "Should I bring you two some water? Cheating must be so exhausting."

VERONICA POV Jason freezes when he notices me, his icy blue eyes blown wide like a kid caught stealing. Moni doesn't stop right away-she keeps riding him for one more second, hips rolling lazily, before she finally turns her head, annoyed, like I've interrupted her favorite scene. "Fuck," he mutters, pushing Moni off him slowly. Moni scrambles across the bed, yanking a blanket over her naked body. She glances back at Jason, lips pursed in frustration.

"Seriously, baby? I was so close to cumming..." "Why are you home so early?" I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing once before the words come out. "Seriously? That's what you're worried about?" "Oh please..." Moni drawls with a bored sigh, stretching like a cat. "Can we drop the pathetic acting already?" She places a hand against her stomach, then smirks at me, eyes gleaming like she's showing off a trophy. "Isn't it the perfect time to let my beloved best friend know I'm pregnant?" The room tilts. My vision blurs at the edges. Her words echo like gunshots in my skull. My stomach twists so hard I press a hand to it; afraid I might be sick right there. "You're lying..." I whisper, my voice barely audible. I need it to be a lie. I need anything but this. But Moni only laughs-that cruel little giggle she does when she knows she's won. "Two months," she sing-songs, tapping her tummy lightly. "Congrats, bestie-you're officially invited to be maid of honor at the wedding. Three months from now." I stare at her stomach, then at her face, voice shaking as the math refuses to add up. "But... How can you be pregnant? You just got into Los Angeles last month." Moni's smile only widens, like she's savoring every second of my confusion. Jason finally meets my eyes instead, no guilt, just tired resignation. "I've been going to Dallas to visit her. For a while now." The words land like a slap. "How could you do this to me? Is this why you've barely even come home in days?" He shrugs, the smallest movement, like it costs him nothing. "Well... now you know," he says, his tone disturbingly calm. He reaches for Moni's hand, lacing their fingers together as if I'm invisible. "We're getting married in three months. I'll send you an invite if you want... though the banquet hall's strict about plus-ones." I cut him with a look so sharp he shuts up mid-sentence. Banquet hall? Plus-ones? They planned an entire future while I was desperately trying to save whatever was left of us. My knees buckle slightly; I catch myself on the doorframe, fingers digging into the wood. Jason's gaze finally hardens, his voice dropping to something low. "It's pathetic that you ever imagined I could love someone like you. You're not just beneath me, you're irrelevant. You have no sense of yourself, nothing that could ever make you worthy of anyone, let alone me. It would be an absolute shame to my reputation if you carried my child." I nod, blinking hard as my eyes sting. Moni slinks against Jason's chest again, tracing circles over his skin with her fingertips. "Don't bother explaining, baby. She's not worth it." She glances at me with mock pity. She licks her lips. "Continue wrecking my pussy, daddy." They kiss, and Jason starts guiding her backward toward the bed again. She glances at me over his shoulder. "You're welcome to watch, though," she giggles, covering her mouth like she's shy. I bite the inside of my cheek. I can't take it anymore. My chest burns with humiliation. I turn and storm down the hall, tears finally spilling, hot and relentless across my cheeks. ****** I barely remember the drive back to the house, just long enough to grab my keys and change. The café dress hit the floor; a tight red one took its place. I curled my hair into soft body waves, but my hands were trembling so badly from thinking about everything that I wasn't even paying attention. The curling iron slipped and burned my neck. I barely felt it. Tears streaked my face the whole drive to the nearest bar. "Again," I murmur, raising the empty glass higher. "Ma'am... are you absolutely sure about this? This would be your third shot in less than thirty minutes." "Yes. Just... pour it." He hesitates, then pours without another word. I should be here, drinking and dancing with my boyfriend for absolutely no reason, just like we used to. Instead, I'm drinking to distract myself from him. I'm so stupid for not seeing this coming sooner. Thinking back, the red flags were obvious... but I never let myself think too much about them. "Get me a glass of whiskey and a vodka for the lady over here," a deep voice says from behind me. I don't bother turning around. I don't care who it is right now. "Is it your cheating boyfriend that got you in the mood?" "I'm not really a party person," I mutter. "Same here," he replies coolly. "I'm only here out of obligations." Silence stretches between us for a long moment. Wait-how does he know about a cheating boyfriend? Or is it just a lucky guess? Most women who drag themselves into a club looking as broken as I do right now probably have the exact same story. The bartender slides my drink in front of me. I take a long sip, waiting for the alcohol to finish numbing everything. Every time I replay the scene in my head, it tears me apart a little more. So this is it. This is how my entire life shatters into pieces. How could they do this to me? They're getting married. They're having a baby soon. My first love... the one I imagined marrying... the one I dreamed of starting a family with... and now he's living that life with my best friend. "Thank you for the drink," I finally say, turning to look at the stranger. He meets my gaze without flinching. "Right now, my employer, Mr. Xavier Cross, noticed you seemed like you could use a quiet place upstairs." Xavier Cross. The name echoes in my foggy mind. I know he's important... someone huge... but everything feels too blurry right now. "He wants you in his private lounge. I'll show you the way upstairs," he says, his tone sharp and precise. My stomach twists. I have so many questions, but I'm terrified they'll come out sounding ridiculous. "Oh, please," I manage to say. "As you probably guessed earlier, I just got out of a toxic relationship." I swallow hard, forcing the words out. "I don't think I want to see any man right now. If he wants me, he can show up himself-that's more appropriate. I'm done trying so hard for men." His brows lift, incredulous. "Alright... let me drop the professionalism for a second. Are you seriously turning down Mr. Cross? Do you even realize how rare it is for someone to get anywhere near him?" I open my mouth, about to say something, but a sharp, shrill ring cuts through the air. My stomach drops instantly. I never get random calls-except from Moni, or Diana about some stupid group project. "I'm sorry... I have to take this." He pulls back immediately, his expression tightening. I fumble for my phone in the pocket of my shirt. The screen reads "Mom." She literally never calls. This is beyond weird. My thumb hovers a second before I swipe to answer. "Veronica! Please, come home immediately." The line goes dead. I stare at the screen, the call duration frozen at four seconds. My heart slams so hard I can feel it in my throat. She sounded panicked; Mom never panicked-ever. "I... I have to go right now... sir," I say, my voice cracking despite my effort to stay calm. "Thank you... for the drink, by the way," I whisper, still clutching my phone. The moment I burst through the front door at home, I find Mom crumpled on the cold floor, sobbing uncontrollably, while Diana kneels beside her, patting her back gently. "What's wrong, Mom? Please, what's wrong? Somebody say something..." "Your father was taken away by the ambulance."

VERONICA POV "Taken away? What happened to him?" Mom sobs even harder, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as she buries her face in her hands. "Mom, please... Diana... someone, anyone, say something," I beg, my voice cracking as I drop to my knees beside them on the cold floor. Diana wipes her own tears away with the back of her hand, her eyes red and swollen. "Dad's brain inflammation wasn't properly treated in the first place." She takes a shaky breath. "Earlier today, he woke up feeling severely nauseated... he couldn't eat anything at all...

he just said he wanted to take a quick nap." "Mom and I thought it was just stress making him sleep for so many hours... but then when I went to check on him... his hands were ice-cold. For one terrifying second, I thought he was dead... but I pressed my fingers to his neck and found his heart still faintly beating." "Mom immediately called 911... they sent an ambulance, and they took him away to the hospital." "They called back not long after to tell us..." She trails off, voice breaking, unable to finish. My heart hammers painfully in my chest. "Told you what?" I ask, my whole body already shaking uncontrollably. "Th... that Dad has a tumor in his brain..." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck... no, hell fucking no. I scream at the top of my lungs, slamming my fists hard against the nearest wall even though the impact sends sharp pain shooting through my knuckles. "What exactly did the health insurance say? Is it curable at all?" "Yes... it is curable." "Then let's proceed with treating him right away..." "That's exactly the problem," she says, her voice trembling. "The surgeons say they can't schedule without a $27,000 deposit and they want it upfront because of hospital policy for major neurosurgery. My stomach drops. "So how much is the full payment...?" "Seventy-five thousand dollars." "Oh shit... how on earth are we supposed to afford that huge amount of money?" "Well... we still have about a month or more to raise the funds... but Dad will remain in the hospital under observation so they can monitor him closely." I swallow hard. Before I could force out another word, my phone buzzed sharply. I fish it out of my pocket with trembling fingers. The name flashing on the screen: Jason. The message reads: I heard about your dad. I might have a suggestion though. Come outside. Let's talk in person. I stand up quickly; legs unsteady and hurry out of the living room without explanation. I push through the front door and step into the cool air. Jason leans casually against his matte black Bentley, arms folded tightly across his chest, looking infuriatingly handsome as usual. Jesus... I hate how irresistibly good he still looks. But I can't ever see him the same way again. Not after he called me irrelevant. Fuck him and everything he's done. "Why are you here?" I ask, folding my arms. "Because I can help you." "I already know about your dad's illness. I also know for a fact your family can't possibly raise that amount of money... but I can." My brows furrow. "Is that supposed to be some kind of insult?" He laughs, low and mocking. "Poor people and having way too much audacity really are best friends." I open my mouth to snap something vicious, but the words die-he's offering help. I have to swallow my self-respect if it means saving my father. "Wait... are you actually saying you're going to pay for my dad's treatment?" He nods once. "Yes." "But-" I cut him off before he could finish. "Oh, let me guess... it comes with a price." "Well said, sweetheart." "What's the condition, then?" "I got an email that my adoptive father is back in Los Angeles." Jason says, his voice casual but edged with intent. "So the board at his company decides to throw him a welcome soirée-a themed, fancy masked affair. He glances at me, waiting for some kind of reaction. I don't give him one. "Anyway," he continues, scratching the side of his jaw, "I need you to come as my girlfriend. Fake girlfriend. Preferably convincing." I stay silent, my throat tight. "Look, I've got this feeling-he's gonna sign the property over right there at the soirée. That's why the whole production." He shrugs one shoulder. "Gotta look stable, gotta look like I've got my shit together. "And you... you clean up nice. You look presentable in that kind of setting." I blink. Clean up nice. Look presentable in that kind of setting. I swallow hard. The words land somewhere between compliment and insult and I'm not sure which hurts more. Why doesn't he pick Moni as his girlfriend? Doesn't she look presentable? But I don't even have the strength to question him. "I doubt I'd even recognize the old man if I ran into him," he adds with a lazy shrug. "The last time I saw him, I was barely eight. Everything else I know about him comes from photos I stumble across online during his meetings." His adoptive father is this huge legacy figure almost nobody actually knows. Jason always says the man stays completely anonymous; he hasn't seen him or even spoken to him in nearly twenty years. That's how distant he is. But at least he'd hired a mother who actually stuck around and took care of him. "Okay... that's fine. I'll do it," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper as I force the words out. Jason's lips curve into a slow smile. "Princess, that's not all." He pauses, watching my face. "My father leaves LA days after the soirée, but that doesn't mean our contract ends." My stomach twists as he goes on. "Moni and I are getting married soon. After we're married, I'll be requesting an open marriage." He shrugs lightly. "I want you to drop out of Med school and become my full-time mistress. You know how quickly I get bored of overused pussy." I stare at him with my jaw practically on the ground. "Excuse me? I manage. "You want me to what?" "Drop out of Med school and become my full-time mistress." His gaze drops to my body for a second, then back up, almost thoughtful. "Your pussy gets so creamy so fast... always did. Way better than hers. She takes forever, barely gets wet. But I want her anyway. My friends all want her, so I want her too. Simple." My stomach twists hard. Nausea rises in my throat. I feel small, used, stupid. "How could you even say such to me?" I snap, anger flaring hot. "You want Moni to suffer in that marriage? Then why the hell marry her in the first place?" "Oh please," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Shut up and stop acting like such a hypocrite. Aren't you a whore already?" "You have the fucking audacity to call me a whore?" He doesn't blink, just holds my gaze, cold and steady. "Jason... leave my house right now," I say through clenched teeth, "before I do something that lands me in lifetime imprisonment." "I do not want your help." "But your family desperately does," he counters coolly, tilting his head. "Your mom was the one who called me earlier, begging if I could raise the funds." My fists clench at my sides. I wouldn't be dealing with all this embarrassment right now if Mom hadn't called him. Even so, I can't tell her I broke up with Jason. She'd call me ungrateful even after knowing the whole situation. If Dad finds out when he recovers, I'm afraid that would be the absolute worst. He might actually hate me forever or even kick me out. "Well, I've done my part," he says, straightening. "The ball's in your court now. When you've finally agreed to be my full-time mistress... you know my number. Call me." "I will do no such thing." He smirks wider, turning toward his car. "Okay then. I guess I'll have a funeral to attend in a bit." I blink, the threat sinking in cold and heavy. He's right-I have no other way to get such a huge amount of money in a month. Sigh. I have to do this. I cross my arms tightly over my chest. "Let's make the deal even." "So, neither of us gets disappointed. I come to the welcome soirée, play the girlfriend in front of your adoptive father...you give me half the hospital bill money for my dad upfront. Then, when I choose to be your full-time mistress, you pay the rest. Is that fair?" He shrugs, considering it for a beat. "This sounds like a scam... but fine. I have no other alternative, so I'll go with your-" "Wait... what?" His eyes snap to my neck, brows shooting up in mock surprise. "What's that mark on your neck?" "What mark?" "Don't play stupid. Who have you been seeing, Veronica?" I freeze, refusing to give him the satisfaction of answering. "Why do you even care, Jason?" "Because you're mine," he says, voice dropping low and possessive as he steps closer. "And you will always be mine." I want to laugh at the absurdity and cry from the pain all at once. "I am not yours anymore, Jason." "Then fine. Suit yourself." He sneers. "Spread your legs wide for whoever wants you-because that's all you're good for, whore." "I'm not taking that bullshit from you, Jason." My voice rises. "Don't you ever call me a whore. I'm not one. You took my virginity, remember?" "Virginity?" He lets out a low, mocking laugh. "That doesn't make you special, Veronica. That just made you easier to leave." My heart hammers so hard I swear it's trying to punch through my ribs. How could he say that? After five years-after everything-I was just... easier to leave? "Veronica, explain why there's a hickey on your neck this instant." My hand flies up to touch the spot. At that moment, I realize the mark was from my curling iron while getting dressed for the bar. "Tell me, who have you been seeing?" "That's none of your concern," I retort sharply, yanking my arm back. "Answer my goddamn question," he practically yells, grip tightening. "It's just my curling iron, Jason," I say quickly. He narrows his eyes, jaw clenched. "Do I look like a fool to you? I know a hickey when I see one. You know what? Fuck it. You don't worth my time." He turns abruptly, heading to his car. He grabs a sleek Zara bag from the passenger seat and shoves it toward me. "This is yours. Wear it when you come to the party. And don't be late." "What about the money?" I call after him. "Will you give it to me now, or after I play the fake girlfriend in front of your dad?" "After the role," he calls out as he pauses halfway into the driver's seat.