His Demands: An Age Gap, Billionaire Boss Romance (Silver Fox Daddies)

The incessant buzzing of my phone shatters my concentration. I try to ignore it, but it’s like a persistent mosquito, impossible to tune out. With a huff of irritation, I finally break away from my spreadsheet paradise and check the screen. Twelve texts, four voicemails, all from Calvin.

My stomach churns at the sight of his name. Just thinking about him, about the man responsible for so much pain and loss in my life, sends a wave of nausea through me. The barrage of messages feels invasive, a stark reminder of a past I’ve worked hard to distance myself from.

I sit there, phone in hand, debating what to do. Each notification feels like a weight, pulling me back to a place of anger and confusion. I’ve managed to build a life without him filled with love and purpose. And yet, here he is, trying to wedge himself back into my world.

With a deep breath, I swipe through the messages, not really reading them, just glimpsing enough to know they’re all pleas for contact, for a chance to explain, to reconnect. The voicemails are likely more of the same. Part of me wants to delete them all, to block his number and pretend he doesn’t exist. But another part, a small, curious part, wonders what he could possibly have to say that would make any difference now.

I set the phone down. My thoughts collide with the reality of my current situation, of Ivan’s troubles with the Bratva, our unexpected retreat to this cabin for safety, the pregnancy I still haven’t told Ivan about. It’s like I’m juggling grenades, and my father’s sudden reappearance is just another explosive in the mix.

Shaking my head, I try to refocus on my work, but it’s no use. My zone has been broken, my mind now occupied with the ghosts of my past. I stand up, stretching my tense muscles, and walk over to the window. My mind keeps circling back to those unread texts and unheard voicemails. It’s like a mental itch that won’t go away, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.

With a frustrated sigh, I give in to the nagging urge. Picking up my phone, I hit the call button on my father’s number.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I demand the moment he picks up, not bothering to mask the irritation in my voice.

‘Julie, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for an hour,’ he says, his voice filled with both relief and urgency.

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see it. ‘Yeah, I know. I was ignoring you,’ I snap back, my patience thin. ‘I’m not ready to talk to you.’

There’s a pause on the other end, and when he speaks again, his tone is softer, more earnest. ‘I understand that, Julie. I really do. But I’m calling because it’s important. It’s about your aunt Barb.’

The mention of Barb instantly grabs my attention, my annoyance giving way to concern. ‘What about her? What’s happened?’ I ask, my voice laced with worry.

He hesitates, and I can almost hear him grappling with the right words. ‘She’s had some sort of an accident, Julie,’ he finally says, and those words hit me like a ton of bricks.

My blood runs cold, a chill that has nothing to do with the snow outside. Panic and fear take over, a tumultuous mixture that threatens to sweep me away.

‘What? How? Is she okay?’ The questions tumble out of me, each one laced with a growing dread.

‘I don’t know all the details,’ he admits.

Anger, worry, and confusion crash together in my head. Why is he the one giving me this news? Why him, of all people? But the urgency of the situation pushes those thoughts aside. Right now, Barb is all that matters.

My skepticism kicks into high gear as worry gnaws at me. ‘How do you even know about this?’ I question sharply. ‘It’s not like Barb would call you in an emergency situation. She hates your guts.’

There’s another brief pause on the other end, and when my father speaks again, his voice carries a hint of sheepishness. ‘I was at the deli down the block from her place. I was hoping you’d be visiting again and I could catch you,’ he admits.

I feel a surge of anger at his confession. ‘You mean you were stalking me? You do realize that’s probably a violation of your probation, right?’ I snap, my voice rising with each word.

‘I know, I know, but I just wanted to see you, Julie,’ he rushes to explain. ‘But while I was there, an ambulance pulled up in front of Barb’s house.’

His words send a chill down my spine, but I’m still wary of believing him outright. “An ambulance?” I ask.

‘Yeah,’ he confirms. ‘I watched as the EMTs loaded her into the back. I couldn’t tell exactly what was wrong, but she didn’t appear to be conscious.’

The image he paints is enough to send a wave of panic through me. Barb, unconscious and being loaded into an ambulance is a scenario I’m not prepared for. My heart races, a mix of fear for my aunt and frustration at the situation.

‘I have to go check on her,’ I stammer, my mind racing with what I need to do next.

‘Julie, I’m sorry,’ my father’s voice cuts in, sounding genuinely remorseful. ‘I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I thought you should know.’

I barely register his words, my focus already shifting to Barb and her well-being. ‘I’ve got to go,’ I say quickly, ending the call without waiting for a response.

Frustration and worry twist inside me as I frantically dial Barb’s number, each ring echoing in my ears like a ticking clock. When it goes to voicemail I leave a message, my voice strained with urgency. ‘Aunt Barb, it’s Julie. Please call me back as soon as you get this. I’m worried about you.’

As I’m about to redial, my phone lights up with an incoming call from my father. I decline it immediately, my fingers moving quickly to send Barb a text message. Barb, please, I need to know that you’re okay. Call me.

No sooner have I hit send, Calvin tries calling again. This time, I answer with a sharp, ‘Stop calling me, I’m trying to get through to Barb!’

His voice, tinged with an annoying calmness, comes through. ‘Julie, she won’t be able to answer. She’s at the hospital.’ He tells me the name of the hospital before I can even respond.

I end the call and immediately dial the hospital’s number, my fingers trembling slightly.

The conversation with the hospital staff is fruitless. They refuse to give out any information, citing privacy policies. My pleas fall on deaf ears, leaving me feeling helpless and even more anxious.

As I’m about to call Calvin back—something I never thought I’d consider—my phone rings. It’s him again. I answer with a terse, ‘I called the hospital but I couldn’t get anything out of them.’

He hesitates before speaking. ‘Do you want me to meet you there? I can—’

‘No,’ I cut him off sharply. ‘I don’t need you. Just stay away from me.’ The last thing I need is him complicating things further.

I hang up, my mind racing. I need to get to the hospital to find out what’s happened. As I head out, I realize I also need to inform Ivan. He needs to know where I am, especially with everything that’s going on.

As I hurry downstairs, the cabin feels eerily quiet, almost as if it’s holding its breath. ‘Ivan? Fyodor?’ I call out, my voice echoing in the empty space. There’s no response, just the sound of my own footsteps against the hardwood floor.

I reach for my phone to call Ivan, but as it dials, a distant ringing catches my ear. I follow the sound to the kitchen, finding his phone abandoned on the table, ringing with my call. A sense of urgency grips me. Where could he have gone without his phone?

Peering out the back window, I spot two guards patrolling the area. Their presence is somewhat reassuring, but it doesn’t help my current dilemma.

I need to leave, now. Without a second thought, I quickly scribble a note to Ivan:

Ivan, I had to go. It’s Barb, she’s in the hospital. I couldn’t reach you. I’ll call as soon as I know more.

Julie

My hands are shaking as I leave the note on the table.

I grab my coat as I head out the door. The cold air hits me like a slap. I’m terrified, my thoughts a jumble of fear and worry. I’m not thinking straight, but I know that I need to get to Barb. She’s always been there for me, and now it’s my turn to be there for her.

I sneak around the guards’ SUV, praying that they left the keys somewhere inside. Quietly, I open the door and hunch down, looking in the cup holders, under the visor, beneath the floor mat. I check the console and… yes! There they are.

As I start the car, I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. The engine roars to life, a steady rhythm in the midst of my turmoil. As I pull out of the driveway, the cabin and frantically running guards slowly disappear behind me, and I focus on the road ahead.