“Do you even realize what you’re asking for?” he whispered, his voice a strained, husky thing, completely at odds with his usual commanding tone.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild drumbeat echoing in the silent, opulent room. I didn’t back down, holding his dark, conflicted gaze. My fingertip traced the faint tremor in his hand where it rested on his knee. “I know exactly what I’m asking for, Papa.”