Do you want to punish me?

Do you want to punish me?
Richard’s pov

I only discovered Violet’s birthday by chance. Nash let it slip after admitting that he had picked up the date while doing some security checks. Violet would definitely not be pleased if she knew that was how I found out, so I decided to keep quiet about that part. Every time I remembered her age, I felt a little thrown. She was about to turn nineteen, yet most days she carried herself with the confidence and maturity of someone older. Certainly more than Michael.
“I think it is the perfect time to show her the building,” Michael said as he perched on the edge of my desk. “We could redo our first date, a picnic by the falls, and then surprise her with the keys to the factory.”
“That is a solid plan,” I replied, absentmindedly tapping my pen against the desk. I wanted the whole thing to feel special. Flowers, good food, thoughtful gifts that would bring out her smile. And then the real gift, along with the question that had been on my mind: would she be ready to live with us?
“Oh, I spoke to a jeweller,” Michael said as he pulled out his phone. “What do you think of this? He calls it a commitment set. She would get one ring from each of us, and when placed together, they form a heart and an infinity sign. Just like the necklace we gave her at the gala.”
He passed me the phone so I could study the photo.
“And what about ours?” I asked.
“Similar design, but as a single piece,” he explained, swiping to another image. “We could even add stones. I thought black diamonds on hers would look incredible.”
I had never seen Michael so invested. With past relationships, even with Paige, he had always seemed detached, interested in the fun but never fully present. This time was different. With Violet, he was deeply involved. Everything he did was centred on her and her happiness.
The truth was, I felt the same.
She had been attending therapy for a few weeks now, and I could not have been prouder of her. She seemed to be getting stronger in ways that were not easy to explain. Her energy felt lighter. She still approached life with intensity, waking before sunrise to exercise, pushing herself in karate, training hard every chance she had. But now she carried less tension. She smiled more easily. She laughed more freely.
Her laugh was, without question, my favourite sound.
Even her relationship with her mother seemed to be shifting. They had started speaking again. The conversations were cautious, more like exchanges between acquaintances than family, but at least Evelyn had stopped throwing out the cruel remarks that used to spark fights. I hoped it meant she was changing too.
My father, on the other hand, had not changed at all. He remained distant and sour, handing out looks of disapproval whenever he caught sight of us. He had given up trying to persuade me to end things, but his attitude never softened. I often wondered how Evelyn had managed to put up with him for so long.
Michael and I left the office at the same time and pulled into the garage together. We used the new biometric locks Turner had set up and went straight upstairs, heading directly for Violet’s room.
We had offered her one of our desks for her work, but she had brushed it off, saying she was used to working from her bed. So she had turned her comforter into her office space, papers and laptop spread out around her.
Nash was in his usual spot, sitting in the chair by her door. He leaned back on two legs, arms folded across his chest, his sharp gaze scanning the room even though nothing ever seemed to happen.
“Hey, Nash,” I greeted, giving him a firm handshake. “Anything today?”
“Nothing,” he replied. For a second I thought I caught a flicker of boredom in his face. Quiet days were best for us and especially for Violet, but I knew the ex-soldier probably longed for something more eventful.
“Good. Thanks for being here. Michael will be working from home tomorrow.”
“Understood.” He stretched, and I noticed the faint glimpse of his sidearm before he lowered his arms. “I will cover the gate then.” He leaned into Violet’s room. “Have a good evening, Miss Blair.”
She glanced up from her laptop, her smile bright though distracted. “Thanks, Nash. See you tomorrow.”
I felt a stab of jealousy twist in my chest.
Michael smacked my back. “Relax, man. Nash lives by his own code. He would never cross a line.”
“I know,” I muttered. Michael brushed past me, dropped onto the bed, and sent Violet’s things sliding. Her metal water bottle rolled off and thudded against the carpet.
“Really?” she said, mock annoyance in her voice, but her playful eyes gave her away. Michael leaned down and kissed her. She abandoned her laptop without hesitation, gripping his face as she kissed him back. When she finally broke away, her breath was uneven. “I missed you,” she whispered.
“I missed you too, Princess.”
I stood in the doorway, pretending to sulk. “What about me?”
She climbed over Michael, slipped off the bed with effortless grace, and sauntered toward me. Her hands glided up my chest. “And what about you, Richard Kingsley?”
“Well? Did you miss me?” I asked.
A sly smile curved her lips as she pressed closer, her body warm against mine. Her hands slid down, unbuckling my belt with quick fingers. “Not exactly you,” she teased. Her hand slipped inside my trousers, stroking me through my shorts. “But I might have missed this.”
A groan escaped me, and I leaned into her touch for a moment before catching her wrist and pulling her hand away. “Violet.” My voice carried a warning.
“Yes, Richard?” she asked with wide, innocent eyes. “Do you want to punish me?”
My groan turned into a growl as I gave her backside a light smack. “Later, troublemaker. For now, I need to change. Then we will have dinner. You have not eaten all day.”
She sighed dramatically, clearly disappointed, but stepped back to let me leave. I went to my room, quickly stripped out of my work clothes, and put on something casual. When I returned, Michael was also ready in shorts, and we both headed downstairs together.
We found Evelyn in the kitchen preparing a meal for herself and my father. He was not home yet, and I caught myself wondering whether he was stuck late at the university or if he had slipped away to his lab without saying a word. The thought of questioning his whereabouts left a sour taste in my mouth. It felt wrong to suspect my own father.
Violet greeted her mother politely before reaching into the fridge for the bowl of shrimp she had left out to thaw overnight. She gathered lemons, butter, and a bundle of skewers, then settled on a stool to start peeling. She looked comfortable, almost peaceful, as she worked.
“Oh, since you are all here,” Evelyn began, her voice carrying the weight of something rehearsed. “Violet’s birthday is on Saturday, and I would really like us to have a family dinner together.” She turned her strained smile toward Michael and me. “That includes both of you.”
I almost told her that Violet already had other plans, but since Michael and I had not yet asked her about our surprise, it was not something I could claim. Evelyn hurried on before either of us could interrupt.
“Do not worry, I will cook something you can eat too. I even found a recipe I thought you might like.” She smiled nervously, twisting her hands in the apron tied around her waist, then looked at her daughter with pleading eyes. “Please?”
Michael glanced between them, and I could see him weighing the moment. Violet’s smile grew bright and genuine, clearly touched by the invitation. I felt a pinch of disappointment, knowing she wanted this. The idea of sitting down with her mother meant something to her.
“That sounds wonderful, Mom. Thank you,” she said warmly.
I held back a sigh. Our picnic by the falls would have to wait.