Viola
Nikolas nodded, his expression unreadable. "Don't be long," he said, his tone implying both a request and a command.
I stepped out onto the balcony, closing the door behind me. The morning sun was warm on my skin, but it did little to ease the chill I felt inside. I answered the call, bracing myself.
"Viola," my father's voice was sharp and impatient. "Why haven't you been answering your phone?"
"I didn't know this was your number," I said, trying to keep my voice calm. "Plus, I haven't had a chance to look at my phone all morning. I've been busy."
Busy getting orgasms from Nikolas.
"Busy," he scoffed. "I didn't raise you to be busy. I raised you to be useful. And now you have a phone? I never approved of you having one."
I gripped the phone tightly, my knuckles white. "Nikolas wanted me to have it. He said it was important so he could communicate with me easily."
