Daddy's Angel (Montana Daddies Book 7) Read online

  Daddy’s Angel

  Laylah Roberts

  Laylah Roberts

  Daddy’s Angel

  © 2020, Laylah Roberts

  [email protected]

  laylahroberts.com

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Cover Design by: Allycat’s Creations

  Editing: Celeste Jones

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Books by Laylah Roberts

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Let’s keep in touch!

  Cowboys for a Cause

  Heal Me, Daddy

  Books by Laylah Roberts

  Doms of Decadence

  Just for You, Sir

  Forever Yours, Sir

  For the Love of Sir

  Sinfully Yours, Sir

  Make me, Sir

  A Taste of Sir

  To Save Sir

  Sir’s Redemption

  Reveal Me, Sir

  Montana Daddies

  Daddy Bear

  Daddy’s Little Darling

  Daddy’s Naughty Darling Novella

  Daddy’s Sweet Girl

  Daddy’s Lost Love

  A Montana Daddies Christmas

  Daring Daddy

  Warrior Daddy

  Daddy’s Angel

  Haven, Texas Series

  Lila’s Loves

  Laken’s Surrender

  Saving Savannah

  Molly’s Man

  Saxon’s Soul

  Mastered by Malone

  How West was Won

  Cole’s Mistake

  Men of Orion

  Worlds Apart

  Cavan Gang

  Rectify

  Redemption

  Redemption Valley

  Audra’s Awakening

  Old-Fashioned Series

  An Old-Fashioned Man

  Two Old-Fashioned Men

  Her Old-Fashioned Husband

  Her Old-Fashioned Boss

  His Old-Fashioned Love

  An Old-Fashioned Christmas

  Bad Boys of Wildeside

  Wilde

  Sinclair

  Luke

  1

  The panic was like a lead weight on her chest.

  An attack loomed. Her hands shook, her stomach rolled over nauseously.

  Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.

  Larry paced back and forth, oblivious to the fact she was falling apart. That was Larry.

  All about himself. The prick.

  She instantly felt bad for thinking that. But Larry wasn’t her favorite person in the world right now. Actually, he never was.

  I don’t want to do it.

  The words hovered on the tip of her tongue.

  I won’t do it!

  She could just imagine herself telling him that. It would never happen because she was a wimp who couldn’t stand up to her own agent.

  People are depending on you, Arianna. You need to be stronger than this. You cannot disappoint them.

  So she sat there, barely listening as Larry harped on about the charity concert looming on the horizon. About how she needed to get into the recording studio. Appearances, meetings, promotion.

  Enough!

  She forced his voice to become background noise. Because if she listened to him, she knew she’d lose complete control.

  Breathe in. One. Two. Three. Four. Breathe out. One. Two. Three. Four.

  Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them back. Her hands continued to shake, and she twisted them together.

  You can do this. Just breathe, Arianna. Just breathe.

  “Arianna are you listening to me?” he finally snapped.

  Crap. Damn. She raised her gaze to meet his. She knew a lot of people considered her agent a handsome man.

  She didn’t see it.

  He was too slick. His suit was tailored perfect. His hair was never out of place. His face was unlined and he was tanned year-round.

  It was unnatural. She’d known him for four years and never once had she seen a bit of spinach between his teeth or his fly down or a hair poking out of his nose. Not that she actually wanted to see that, of course.

  But any of those things might have made him more relatable. Friendly. Approachable.

  Larry was none of those things. Larry was a shark.

  Which is why her parents had hired him. Yep, she hadn’t even hired her own agent. They’d gotten rid of her last agent, Gordy, because he hadn’t been making her enough money.

  What did she need with more money? She didn’t want the flashy cars and exorbitant mansions. But her family did. Larry did. And they all relied on her to perform.

  She hated it. She detested what her life had become. And now this. . .

  I can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.

  Go to your happy place. Stars. Mountains. Quiet. Trees.

  Now breathe.

  “Arianna. Are you listening?”

  “I can’t do it. These threats. . .”

  “Look, darling,” he said condescendingly. She hated when he talked to her like that. Like she was an idiot. As though he thought he was charming, and she’d fall to the floor and kiss his feet.

  Never gonna happen, Larry.

  “You need to calm down. I know these threats seem scary. But it comes with the territory. You’ve gotten threats in the past and nothing ever came from them.”

  But how had this person gotten her home address? All correspondence went to a private box and was collected by Larry’s assistant. How had they managed to slip these threatening letters under her damn door?

  “Arianna! Have you been taking your pills?”

  She glared at him. Asshole. “My medication is none of your business, Larry.”

  She hadn’t been taking those pills for months. She didn’t like the way they made her feel. Like she wasn’t herself. She wasn’t even entirely sure she needed them. Her parents had forced her to go to that creepy Doctor Jones. She was certain he was medicating her unnecessarily. She had her panic attacks under control.

  Well, as long as someone wasn’t sending her threatening letters. But that would make most people panic, right?

  “It is if you’re not taking care of yourself. I care about you, Arianna.”

  Urgh. Total sleaze. And he didn’t care about her. He cared about money. He wanted her docile. When she took those pills, she didn’t get nervous when she performed. But she also couldn’t feel the music, couldn’t create. Oh, she could still sing. But it was other people’s lyrics.

  She wanted to sing her own music. But Larry always vetoed that.

  “Larry, these threats are real. Shouldn�
�t we go to the police?”

  He narrowed his gaze. “The police! For a few letters? They’d laugh at us. We don’t need to call in the cops for another hoax. You cannot let a couple of threats stop you from doing this concert!”

  He was probably right. She was being weak. She was scared.

  He leaned his fists on the desk between them, looming over her. She hated when he did that.

  “Do I need to speak to your parents about this? They could fly in. Be moral support.”

  She flinched. Christ, twenty-six years old and still worried about what her parents thought. What they might do.

  Stop embarrassing us, Arianna.

  Just talk, Arianna. Stop crying, you’re not a baby.

  Why can’t you be normal?

  Christ. She shook off those memories. “No.”

  “Good. Look, if you’re that worried, let me hire you a bodyguard.”

  “No.”

  His gaze narrowed and she tensed.

  “Then buck up, Arianna. You don’t have time to fall apart. That sort of selfish indulgence is for artists who are already set for life. This concert might be for charity, but it will bring in a lot of publicity for your last album. You need to start working and stop looking for excuses to get out of your obligations. You’re doing the concert!”

  He stormed out and the door slammed shut behind him.

  Such an asshole. God, she hated him. She took in one short breath then another.

  She’d fire him, but despite his failure as a decent human being he was a good agent. And if she fired him, her family would get upset with her, they’d come to visit. She needed to do everything she could to avoid that. She just couldn’t cope with that much confrontation right now.

  Or ever.

  Larry wasn’t going to give up. And this charity event coming up had been booked a year in advance. She’d be letting people down if she didn’t attend.

  She rubbed her hand over her face then opened up her laptop. She’d sent copies of the notes to the only person she thought might actually listen to her. Caleb was her favorite person in the entire world. Sometimes it felt like he was the only person who actually saw her. Arianna the person. Not Arianna, the world-famous singer. Not Arianna, the cash cow. Not Arianna, the snob.

  She grimaced at that last thought. She knew that’s what many people thought of her.

  If only they knew. Truth was, she didn’t always know how to relate to people. She’d spent her childhood with tutors and therapists.

  The only time she felt normal was when she lost herself in the music.

  It had been her saving grace, but it was also her nightmare. Because with her music came fame and money. Which all sounded good. But when you just wanted to live a quiet life, when your family used you to fund their lifestyle, when you were constantly guilted into doing things you didn’t want to do.

  It also became her hell.

  She opened up her email, relief filling her as she saw he’d replied. Caleb and his two closest friends, Wolfe and Aleki, were working overseas as bodyguards for some rich, foreign princes

  She opened the email.

  Squirt,

  You were totally right to send these to me. I’ve contacted a friend who runs a security company in Montana. He’s going to send some bodyguards. Now, before you argue that it’s just a couple of notes, you and I both know that you don’t overreact. Which means you think it’s something more. So either you take the bodyguards or Aleki, Wolfe and I are coming home to take care of you ourselves? Got me?

  You need a permanent bodyguard anyway. I can’t believe fucking Larry hasn’t taken care of that already. As famous and beautiful as you are, you’re bound to attract weirdos. Just look at the way you have the three of us twisted around your little finger. I’ll get onto finding someone permanent.

  Until his guys get there, you stay inside and safe. I’m not kidding, Arianna. You disobey me in this, and I will put you over my knee like I did when you were eight and you climbed that tree when I told you not to. Don’t think I won’t.

  Love you, Squirt. Stay safe. Do what these guys say. They’re the best of the best. Unlike that dick, Larry.

  Caleb

  PS my friend Kent is a Daddy Dom and so are most of the guys working for him. Just thought I’d give you a heads up. Hint. Hint.

  She rolled her eyes at that last bit. She knew Caleb, Aleki and Wolfe were all Daddy Doms. They’d all been in the SEALs together and had formed a tight bond. Caleb often told her she was a Little. She knew why he’d think that. But there was no way she could ever indulge that side of herself.

  If she only had herself to worry about, then she’d leave all this. Take off, find somewhere peaceful where she could live without other people’s expectations.

  But she had to think of her family. As her mother liked to tell her, she owed them after years of being a constant disappointment.

  She reread the email, grinning at his reminder of the time he’d spanked her. She hadn’t talked to him for a month afterwards. It wasn’t like she’d been in danger or anything. She was the best damn tree climber around.

  Caleb had lived next-door to her growing up. He was seven years older, so mostly she’d just been a pain in his ass.

  But she knew he loved her. He’d never cared that she was weird or different.

  Still, there was no way she was going to enter into any kind of relationship with these bodyguards. But maybe hiring someone permanently wasn’t the worst idea. It could help keep the panic at bay.

  She took a deep breath, let it out slowly then typed back a simple message.

  Thank you. Hi to Wolfe and Aleki. Love you all.

  Ari xx

  2

  “Got a job for you both.” Kent strode into the meeting room, looking slightly harried.

  Bain raised an eyebrow at Dominic who just grinned. They weren’t used to seeing the chief looking so frazzled.

  “I saw that look,” Kent stated. He sat in a chair at the round table with a huge sigh. “Do you know how fucking difficult Clint is being? He doesn’t want a traditional stag night; he wants a combined night with Charlie and the girls. Only Charlie doesn’t want that. She’s told me in no uncertain terms to make certain he isn’t around during. . .well, whatever it is the women are getting up to. Abby is taking charge of that. Although I need to find out if they’re planning on leaving the ranch as they’ll need security.”

  “Chief, ease up, man. You’re acting like you’re the wedding planner.” Dominic smirked. “You’re just the best man.”

  Kent glared at them both. “Just the best man? I’m in charge of making sure Clint has a suit, that he remembers the ring, that he gets to the wedding on time, that he doesn’t just kidnap Charlie and elope.”

  Bain grunted. That’s the way he’d do it. He’d gone through the whole huge white wedding thing once. Waste of fucking time and money.

  But it had been what Jillian wanted. And at the time, he’d been so in love with her, he’d have given her anything. Nearly did. Just about bankrupted himself keeping her happy.

  Never again.

  “Be a good thing if he did.”

  Dominic gave him an assessing look while Kent just sighed. “And miss out on seeing Charlie walking down the aisle? On the happiness shining from her face? Watching my brother fall to his knees in fucking joy? Getting to dance with my girl for half the night afterwards? I’d rather put up with this stress. But if Clint moans one more time about his monkey suit. . .I’m going to have to hogtie and gag the bastard.”

  Dominic grinned. “You said something about a job, Chief?”

  “Right, onto the work I actually get paid for,” Kent grumbled.

  They all knew it was an act. The Jensens were a tight family. The fact that they’d opened their ranch up to accept people like them, men who wanted relationships where they were in charge, where women were protected and cherished, and that they treated everyone here like family. . .it spoke to their huge hearts.

  Kent
might bitch about his brother, but he’d be there in a second if Clint needed him. Moving here, accepting this job had been a lifeline for Bain after separating from Jillian. It had turned into the best decision he’d ever made.

  “Ever heard of Arianna Silvers?” Kent asked, opening a folder and pulling out a photo. Yep, sometimes they still did things old-school around here. Bain liked that.

  He looked down at the pretty singer. The photo was one of those publicity shots. A gorgeous woman with wavy, dark-red hair and pretty green eyes stared out at him. She had way too much make-up on, and her clothes probably cost more than he made in a month.

  The least favorite part of his job was having to guard rich, stuck-up celebrities. They didn’t get these jobs that often, thank Christ, because usually these sorts of people had their own permanent bodyguards.

  “Have to be dead not to have heard her music,” Dominic commented.

  Both men looked at him.

  “Not that it’s my cup of tea.” His cheeks reddened. Not his thing, huh?

  “She in trouble?” Bain asked.

  Kent frowned slightly. “Could be. She’s had a couple of threats sent to her.”

  “Happens when you’re in the limelight,” Bain said cynically.

  Kent shot him a look. “Well, these threats have scared her. She has a charity concert coming up and she’s worried.”

  “Wouldn’t she be better with a permanent bodyguard or hiring a security company? Where does she live?” Dominic asked.

  “She has an apartment in New York where she mostly lives. These are copies of the threats she’s received. The first one came approximately six weeks ago.”

  He turned around a piece of paper.

  I see you, my little songbird. You sing so pretty for me. Don’t worry, I’m coming to rescue you from the cage they put you. Then we can be together forever.