BILLIONAIRES: Father or Son

Chapter Fifty-Seven

ALEX'S POV

"Are you nervous?" I asked as I stepped out and opened the car door for Flora, offering her my hand.

She shook her head far too quickly, avoiding my gaze. "Not at all."

Liar.

I could read her like an open book. Her fingers had trembled on the ride here, betraying the calm front she wore like armor. She had no idea just how much I noticed, every sigh, every nervous fidget, every time her teeth worried that soft bottom lip. One thing Flora doesn't know about me is that I'm very observant, especially towards people I care about. And I care about Flora—a lot.

And then there was that dress.

Jesus Christ, that red sequin gown had me spiraling. It hugged every one of her curves as though it was custom-made to drive me insane. The slit up the side teased just enough of her smooth thigh to make my brain short-circuit. All the way to this goddamn event, I had been battling the overwhelming urge to pull her into my lap and take her right there in the backseat. I had been rock-hard since the moment she walked out of that hotel reception. She looked like a goddess, and all I wanted was to worship her—in ways that had nothing to do with prayers and everything to do with pleasure.

"Don't lie to me, little girl," I said softly, my voice low enough for only her to hear.

Her cheeks flushed that perfect shade of pink as she flicked her eyes toward me, then away, embarrassed. I smirked, satisfaction curling through me. I loved knowing I could unravel her with just a few words. The flashes of cameras snapped me out of my thoughts as the press swarmed us near the entrance. I could feel Flora stiffen beside me, and I tightened my hold on her hand reassuringly, my demeanor calm.

I knew that Flora wasn't ready for the heat our relationship would bring if it got out now. She was at the peak of her career, and anything could ruin it. I had seen her work so hard to get here, so I wasn't going to let my libido spoil her shine. So, I kept my expression professional and my touches appropriate. Casual enough to look like a boss escorting his star designer, but still protective enough to let the world know she belonged to me.

Once we crossed the threshold of photographers and clamoring voices, two bulky security guards greeted us at the entrance.

"Good evening, Mr. Bennett," one of them said with a respectful nod.

"Evening," I replied coolly, leading Flora past them and into the elevator.

The space was small and dimly lit—quiet. Perfect. The moment the elevator doors slid shut, I seized my opportunity. Without warning, I pinned her gently to the wall.

Flora gasped, her wide eyes darting toward the elevator doors. "Wha-what are you doing?"

"Shh." I hushed her softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You lied to me, flower."

"About what?" Her voice wobbled.

"You're nervous," I replied, gripping her chin delicately between my thumb and forefinger. I tilted her face up until her eyes met mine, their hazel depths shimmering with uncertainty. "In as much as I want you to carry yourself with confidence, Flower, don't ever feel the need to hide your real emotions. It's okay to feel out of place or overwhelmed sometimes. It doesn't make you weak; it makes you human."

Her lips parted slightly, and she nodded, wordlessly.

"But," I continued, my voice firm but soft, "what's not okay is giving up. Hiding away because you think you can't measure up. Letting circumstances define you. That's not who you are, little girl. You've already proven you're stronger than that. Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy," she whispered, her voice breathy, her lashes fluttering shut for a brief second.

A slow smile curled my lips. God, I adored her. "Good girl."

I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a husky whisper against her ear. "You could make a potato sack look like haute couture, flower." My eyes drifted down to the curve of her body wrapped in that sinful red dress. The sliver of bare skin peeking from the slit had my blood humming in my veins.

I grabbed her soft hand and guided it down to the front of my pants, letting her feel the effect she had on me. Her touch against me made me groan quietly, and her eyes widened, her lips parting with a gasp.

"Look at what you do to Daddy," I said, my tone dark and possessive. "And I swear, when tonight is over, Daddy's going to have you all to himself. But for now..." I brushed a kiss against her temple, lingering just long enough to feel her shiver.

Her lips trembled as she moaned softly, her voice barely audible. "Oh, Daddy..."

The elevator dinged, and I stepped back, giving her room to breathe. She looked dazed and flustered, but still undeniably beautiful.

"Showtime, flower," I said with a smirk, holding out my arm.

She looped her hand through mine, still catching her breath, and together, we stepped out into the crowd.

I watched Flora's expression shift as her gaze swept across the room. Awe, curiosity, and a flicker of nervousness painted her face in shades I couldn't help but admire. The soft widening of her eyes, the slight parting of her lips. God, she looked beautiful when she got lost in wonder. It made me smile.

This place was alive with activity, practically buzzing with energy. The number of people here was overwhelming, more than I had expected, even for an event of this magnitude. The crowd was a mix of power and influence, the city's elite draped in glittering gowns and sharp tuxedos. Politicians, celebrities, competitors, and vultures disguised as friends, all in one place, circling for their piece of attention.

I could feel Flora's anxiety grow from ten to a hundred. She wasn't used to this kind of crowd in one place or the kind of spotlight on her. It made me want to protect her even more. She was too sweet for the world.

Several pairs of eyes watched our every move. This was the first time I had brought a woman to a high-profile event since my divorce, and judging by the curiosity plastered across their faces, I had handed them enough gossip fuel for a week. I could already read their thoughts: What are they? Is this serious? I smirked to myself. Let them wonder. Let them choke on their assumptions.

"There's a lot of people here," Flora whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of conversations. Her hazel eyes flitted nervously from one glamorous face to another, like she was bracing for impact.

"But no one here matters more than you, Flora." I squeezed her hand gently, the contact grounding us both. "Are you ready for this?"

She met my gaze and nodded, though her small gulp betrayed her nerves. With that, I led her toward the sea of people, guiding her into the lion's den with every intention of shielding her from its bite. This—this spotlight, this attention was her life now, whether she believed it or not. It wasn't every day someone created a design that turned heads and sparked conversations. She had earned this. Every compliment. Every glance. Every accolade. And damn it, if anyone didn't think she deserved to be celebrated, they would answer to me.

Still, as much as I wanted her to shine, I couldn't stop my eyes from lingering on her longer than they should. I could only hope I wasn't being too obvious. For her sake. She had worked too hard to get here, and the last thing I wanted was to tarnish her rising star with rumors of us.

But as the saying goes, nothing stays hidden under the sun forever. And tonight, I was in for a surprise I hadn't seen coming. We went around and greeted a few people while I introduced Flora proudly.

"If that isn't the charismatic Alexander Lee Bennett," a voice drawled from behind me.

The all-too-familiar sound froze me mid-step. My spine straightened instinctively, and a wave of irritation rolled through me before I could stop it.