Chapter 114 Routine Punishment
Will’s P.O.V.
Six Years Later
I wake up with her in my arms. My wife. The mother of my child.
She’s still asleep, her face relaxed against my chest, her hair spread across the pillow. For a moment, I don’t move. I just watch her. Even after all these years, she is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
My eyes shift to the nightstand, to the photo frame that has become a part of my morning ritual.
It’s the first picture of us as a family.
Iva is lying on the hospital bed, exhausted but glowing, cradling a tiny, swaddled bundle. And I’m there… kissing her forehead, looking like the luckiest man alive.
Because I was. Because I still am.
I remember that moment like it happened yesterday. Holding Ivy for the first time. She was so small, so fragile that I was paralysed by the thought that my hands built for power and control, might hurt her. They had actually trembled.
Despite all the parenting classes, all the preparation nothing truly prepares you for the moment of holding a life that is half yours and half the woman you worship.
But Iva…
She was ready from day one. Like she was born for this, she stepped into motherhood so naturally, so beautifully, that sometimes I just stood there and admired her. Every single day since then, she’s proved what an incredible mother she is.
And I’ve never once doubted that she’s the only woman I would ever want as the mother of my child.
"Morning, husband," her cheerful voice breaks through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present.
I look down at her and smile. “Morning, my pretty wife.”
I lean in and kiss her forehead, noting how she only seems to grow more stunning with time.
She smirks, glancing at the nightstand. "You were busy gazing at our photo again, weren't you?"
"You know my routine," I admit, pointing to the frame. "Every morning, I thank God for this. For our family. For the miracle that brought back the happiness we thought we’d lost forever."
She snuggles closer to me. "It’s been years, Will. Ivy is growing up right in front of us, but sometimes... it still feels like a dream. I get scared that I’ll wake up one day and it will all disappear."
I immediately pull her slightly away and cup her face so she looks at me. "Hey, listen to me. This is real. This life, this home, our daughter, and it’s never going to disappear. I’ve spent my life protecting what’s mine, and I’m never letting this go. Understood?"
She studies my face for a moment… then slowly nods. “Yes, Master.” She winks.
I chuckle and kiss her forehead again.
A few seconds pass before she suddenly sits up. “Oh God, what time is it?”
I laugh. “Late enough that someone is about to be late for school.”
Her eyes widen. “Will!”
“Relax,” I say, getting out of bed. “We’ll manage.”
She shakes her head. “We get lost in each other too easily.”
“Not complaining.” I smirk.
“Me neither,” she replies, smiling.
We walk into Ivy’s room together. And just like always… It’s perfectly organised. Everything in its place. Books aligned. Toys arranged. Even her shoes are neatly kept.
I sigh dramatically. “God… she’s another version of you.”
Iva nudges me. “You love it.”
“I tolerate it.” I roll my eyes.
Sometimes, I find the strict order of this house frustrating, but the truth is… I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Our little girl is sleeping peacefully, hugging her favourite soft toy. Her blonde hair, just like her mother’s, is spread across the pillow. For a moment, we both just stand there, watching her.
“She’s perfect,” I say.
“She is,” Iva replies.
And she really is. A perfect blend of both of us. Her hair is like her mother. Her grey eyes are like mine. And her personality…
God help me.
Some days, she listens to everything we say in one go, sweet, obedient, just like my submissive professor.
And other days?
She negotiates like a tiny queen until she gets exactly what she wants.
“My Mini-Professor,” I murmur.
Iva smiles beside me, and together, we finally move forward to wake her up.
“Princess.” I sit beside her and brush her hair back.
She stirs, scrunching her nose before slowly opening her eyes. “Daddy…”
“Good morning,” I whisper.
“Mama…” she turns, reaching for Iva.
Iva instantly scoops her into her arms. “Good morning, baby.”
“I want to sleep more,” she murmurs in a sleepy tone, snuggling back into Iva’s arms and closing her eyes tight.
I feel a pang in my chest. As her father, I want to fulfil her every single wish, no matter how small. I hate being the one to end her rest, but I know how to motivate my mini-Professor.
“Is that so?” I lean in, a smirk playing on my lips. “But then who is going to eat the tasty cupcakes Mama is making for breakfast?”
Ivy’s little eyes instantly light up. Her sleepiness disappears in a heartbeat, and she sticks her tongue out playfully. “Wow! Cupcakes! I’ll eat them!”
She starts jumping on the bed, clapping her tiny hands while Iva and I gaze at her, completely mesmerised by her energy.
“Will, you get her ready. I’m going to the kitchen to start on those cupcakes,” Iva presses a quick kiss to my cheek before heading out.
This is our daily ritual. We divide the duties of parenthood. Today, I’m the one on ‘getting ready’ duty.
Ivy refuses to eat any breakfast or lunch that isn't prepared by one of us. No chefs, no nannies, just us, and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way. Because I love to cook and make my daughter ready for school, no matter how busy I am.
I scoop Ivy up and head to the bathroom. I bath her, listening to her talk about her rubber ducks, and then help her into her school uniform.
After a quick, messy breakfast of cupcakes and laughter, it’s time to go.
Usually, I’m on Daddy duty until the afternoon while Iva is at college. Once she returns from her lectures, I head to the club to handle business, and she takes over with Ivy.
I lead Ivy to the car, her small hand tucked into mine. Iva stands at the door, waving and blowing kisses as I pull out of the driveway.
The drive to school is my favorite part of the day. Ivy talks nonstop, her little voice filling the car. She tells me about a drawing she’s planning, which friends were loud yesterday, and how she wants to learn to drive a car like me.
"Daddy, will you pick me up today?" she asks, swinging her legs in her car seat.
"No.” I shake my head, hiding a smile.
She pouts. "Why?"
"Because today, Mama and Daddy are coming to pick you up together." As I tell her, her eyes light up instantly.
"Wow! Mama is coming today too! I’m so happy!" She claps her hands excitedly as I pull up to the school gates. I kiss her forehead, watch her run inside with her backpack bouncing, and then I’m finally alone.
As I pull away from the school, the Dad persona starts to fade, replaced by the hunger that only one person can satisfy. Today is Iva’s day off from college. The house is empty. The child is at school. And my Professor has been a little too relaxed lately.
How can I miss this golden opportunity?
I pick up my phone and text her while driving.
Me: I want you to be prepared for me in the club’s classroom. I’m coming there directly.
Her reply comes instantly, as if she were staring at her phone waiting for me to claim her.
Iva: Fuck. Really? I was waiting for this.
My smirk deepens.
Me: It’s been days since you had your routine punishment. You need discipline, Professor.
Typing…
Iva: Don’t threaten me with a good time.
I chuckle under my breath.
Me: You’re going to be so exhausted by this afternoon. Sorry in advance if our daughter questions you about why you're tired.
Iva: Don’t worry. I’ll handle it. This exhaustion is my favourite.
Another message pops up instantly.
Iva: Now come fast. I can’t wait.
I lock my phone, my grip tightening slightly on the steering wheel.
A dark smirk stays on my face for the rest of the drive. Our lives have changed, and our responsibilities have grown, but the spark between us is a fire that never fades. Parenting hasn't stopped us, it’s only made our private moments more precious.