Page 55 of Bought to Bear Bratva Heir

Marguerite.

Her gorgeous face flashed in front of my eyes, and I dropped the weight to the mat with a groan. Marguerite was beautiful. She was the perfect woman. But I didn’t love her.

She wasn’t perfect for me because that was Daisy.

But if I couldn’t have Daisy, then Marguerite would have to do.

I would marry her, as quickly as possible. I’d make Daisy watch as I said my vows. Maybe I would even make her watch—

With a groan, I dropped my head into my hands. And this was where I kept going wrong. I had these fantasies of hurting Daisy so badly she mentally broke, but I could never do it.

As much as I hated her, I never wanted to see those kinds of tears in her eyes. Seeing me marry another woman and knowing it would now never be her would be punishment enough.

Maybe I would even let her go. She could still see Alec. I wouldn’t deprive them of each other now, but she could have her own place, where she wouldn’t have to be witness to my marriage and where I wouldn’t be able to sneak into her bed in the middle of the night and make love to her until we were both panting, sweaty messes.

Yes, that’s what I would do. I would marry Marguerite but keep Daisy at arm's length until all my old feelings had gone away.

"Papa…"

Slowly, I lifted my head to find Alec standing there in his little train-covered PJs.

"Hey, you." Rushing over, I scooped him up, thrusting my nose into his sweet-smelling hair.

"Eww, Papa." He swatted his little hands against my shoulders. "You’re all sweaty."

Laughing, I dropped him to his feet. "I am all sweaty. What are you doing up so early?"

He shrugged. "I was hungry. I was going to see if Mama Daisy wanted to make pancakes."

My heart gave a twitch at hearing him call her mama. "We should leave Daisy to sleep in today. In fact," crouching down, I drew our eyes level, "I want us to have breakfast with someone else." I took a deep breath. "Do you remember the lady that came to breakfast yesterday?"

His eyes darkened as he frowned, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me with accusingly focused eyes. "The pretty one."

The corner of my mouth twitched. "Yes, Marguerite is very beautiful, and she wants to have breakfast with us again today. Maybe afterwards we could all go to the park and—"

He cut me off. "Daisy is pretty too."

Closing my eyes for a second, I nodded my head. "Yes, Daisy is very beautiful, but Marguerite is a special friend of Daddy's, and I would like her to be your friend as well."

Jesus, that was harder to explain to a six-year-old than I had thought it would be.

"Daisy is my friend."

Again, I sighed. "Yes, I know. Daisy loves you very much. Just like I do. But we can have more than one friend, Alec. And I want you and Marguerite to be friends. Could you help me make breakfast for her?"

I waited for him to say yes because he always said yes. He always wanted to please me.

"I don’t want to be her friend."

I blinked at him in shock. "What?"

"I don’t want to be her friend. I don’t want to have breakfast with her. She’s mean when she looks at me." He stomped his little foot.

I did a double-take, racking my brain for any memory that Marguerite had been mean to him, and I came back blank.

"Okay, we won’t cook. We can order in?" I held out my hand. He didn’t take it. "Alec."

"Why can’t we have breakfast with Daisy?" he countered.