Daddy’s Little Pet

ROBERT

FIVE DAYS LATER

For the umpteenth time this afternoon, I stared blankly at the commissioned portrait hanging on the wall in my room.

My eyes refused to stray, and I couldn’t look away. Even if I managed to turn, some invisible force brought my eyes back to the beauty on the wall, with her hair billowing in the cool, invisible breeze.

My strawberry blonde beauty. My Renee. I closed my eyes at the thought of her and gripped the whiskey glass I held in my hand so tight it almost broke.

Not that I cared.

Opening my eyes briefly, I stared at the portrait, this time imagining Renee standing near me in my oversized shirt, or maybe some nice as fuck sexy lingerie. Or even a bathrobe… anything at all. She always looked so good in any clothing, and I loved that about her.

‘She’s not here with you, mister. Get your thinking straight.’

My subconscious chimed all too quickly and shaking my head, I tried to dispel my wandering thoughts, but it was too difficult.

It’d been five days since I left Miami, and came back to my abode here in New York. Five excruciatingly painful days, since I’d last seen my girl, and I was fucked up.

My mental health, my physical health, and my business were all suffering.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

I just wasn’t the same at all.

I couldn’t focus on my business schedules as my thoughts were filled with images of Renee constantly and I would stare at my phone, hoping she’d call me… but she never did.

To say I was disappointed was putting it lightly. I was heartbroken, helpless, and losing it.

After my apology, the portrait worth over a thousand dollars, the expensive-as- fuck flower arrangements, and the jewelry, she still hadn’t called me. And it hurt.

It hurt so much-like it was piercing into my skin.

This was the first time in years I’d felt such severe pain and I couldn’t breathe properly because of it.

It was suffocating, unbearable and overwhelming.

‘Maybe you should just let her go. She doesn’t want you anymore. That’s evident.’ My subconscious said yet again, but I ignored the internal rumbles.

There was no fucking way I was letting Renee go without a fight.

She’d enjoyed every single bit of what we shared, so she had to be feeling this way too.

If she wasn’t, well, I had no care. I would still keep thinking and stroking my dick to images of her in my head every night.

It baffled me that now, I rarely found any other women attractive. I mean, I’d gone to numerous bars and clubs since returning. Sometimes for business. Sometimes to relax. And women were in abundance everywhere, but they never appealed to me.

The only person I wanted was Renee. Fucking, sexy, blonde haired Renee!

I sighed heavily, downing the rest of the whiskey and looking back at the portrait, I shook my head, before placing the empty glass on the table.

I hated myself for falling in love with her so quickly, for giving up so soon-for being an asshole and also letting her go so easily.

I should’ve refused when she suddenly called the boat trip an end.

I should’ve insisted she stayed, and if she refused, I should’ve just fucked her into oblivion till she agreed. But what did I do instead? I let her go immediately, with questions between us left unanswered.

My dick was already standing upright; as the naughty thought of fucking Renee slipped in my mind and I let out a hiss, ruffling the strands of my gelled hair with my hands.

The best time of my life had lasted for just three days, and if I could go back in time to relive that moment when she told me to turn the yacht around, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it differently.

In bed for breakfast and dinner, holding her soft skin in my arms and never letting go. Fuck! Those moments were priceless and precious, and I realized now more than ever what a terrible mistake I’d made.

It hurt that I’d let her off so quickly.

I’d lost her. I’d fallen passionately and blindly in love with this woman. Now I had to live knowing she had no fucking idea how I felt about her.

I mean, why did I have to be such an ass? What did I even do wrong?

The background checks I did on her? Yes, I tried to get some minor pieces of information about her. At the time, she was a random stranger I’d met for a one or three-night sexcapade, right? But now, how could I explain she was starting to be the bane of my existence?

My obsession! My little woman! My baby! My pet!

What was she even doing now?

Was she on her bed, touching herself and thinking of me? Was she beating herself up and regretting how we parted so quickly? Did she regret her leaving with only a kiss and, a nonchalant goodbye?

Yes, some women in my past had emotionally scarred me. But with Renee… with her, it was so fucking different.

I froze instantly as I recalled something.

Dipping my hand into my pocket, I brought out a random card. It was a photo of Renee.

The first day I left Miami for New York, I’d hired a detective to check up on Renee as I wanted to ensure that she had gotten home safely.

He’d gotten back to me with positive news and even sent a clear photo of her. With how I craved her, I had printed the picture so I could hold it in my hand. Hold it and stare at it till whenever.

She was in a park with her friend Nicole, and a man who seemed to be in deep conversation with them.

Rage toward the motherfucker standing next to Renee poured through me and with teeth wide open, he spoke, while she listened duly.

Her side profile was in view from where she stood, with her hair in a bun and her arms wrapped around herself. She looked so beautiful, that my heart ached all at once.

The shrill sound of my phone’s ringtone pierced through the air, quickly cutting off my thoughts.

Bringing the device out, I stared at the screen, wanting to see who was calling, and the second the name flashed, my eyes dimmed a bit.

It was her.

Why the fuck was this ungrateful and uncouth human calling me?

After all these years, the bitch wasn’t getting the memo to leave me alone and it irritated me to no end.

I watched as the phone rang, the device dancing in my hands, and at first, I thought of answering and cutting the call short, but I didn’t.

She didn’t deserve to know that I saw her calls, so I refused to pick up. She also didn’t deserve any of my mental energy.

When the phone finally stopped ringing, I exhaled, relieved. I moved to drop it in my pocket, but then it started to ring again.

She was still calling.

I kept staring at the screen, waiting for it to stop, and it felt like an eternity until it did.

“Finally…” I said, my fingers hovering over the green accept button.

I was contemplating doing something. Something that’d cost me a lot and I’d been thinking about it since I arrived in New York and stepped off the jet that’d brought me back.

Turning to face the portrait, I looked from it to my cell phone and then at the picture again. The back and forth went on for a few minutes before I made up my mind.

Without thinking twice, I swiped at my phone, searching for the number of my PA. Natasha, in the call logs. When I found it, I dialed quickly.

I took a deep breath, waiting for her to respond. This was it. There was no going back.

Finally, I was pulling together the balls to make this call, and fuck if I wasn’t happy it was happening. I’d put it off for so long.

For a moment, I didn’t care if Renee wanted nothing to do with me.

As far as I was concerned, she no longer had a say and I was going to get her. I always got my way. I always got what I wanted.

I wanted Renee, and I was going to get her back. Fuck, giving her space!

“Hello, Mr. Robert?” The gentle tone of Natasha, my assistant, came over the phone. I sighed, relieved I’d come to a decision.

“Good day Natasha.” I curtly greeted, and she responded quite in kind.

“Good day, sir.”

“Have you sent me this week’s schedule by email?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Good, good.” I mumbled so softly I wasn’t sure if she heard me, but at the same time, I didn’t care.

Instead, I blurted out, dropping a bombshell.

“Now that that’s settled, I want you to cancel all my physical appointments for the week and next.”

“Till?”

“I have no specific date as to when I’m returning from my trip. I’ll be leaving for Orlando tomorrow, so call the pilot and tell him to service my private jet and put the airstrip in order.” I informed her, and she answered immediately with no questions, “Will do so, Mr. Robert.”

“Thank you.”

Hanging up the cell phone, I breathed heavily, battling some internal debate as to whether I was doing the right thing.

And yes I was doing the right thing. If Renee refused to come to me, then I would get her.

A myriad of thoughts and ideas assailed my head, and with a smirk on my lips, I walked to the wine cellar in the room.

Grabbing another bottle of whiskey, I popped the cork open, and began to drink straight from it.

Fuck yeah!