Genie Daddy Read online

  ©All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of the 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 permission in writing from the publisher.

  2017 © Published by Allysa Hart.

  Hart, Allysa

  A Well Placed Wish

  Cover Art by Allysa Hart at Allycat’s Creations

  Interior Formatting: Lee Ching with Under Cover Designs

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking/sexual activity or the spanking of minors.

  This book is dedicated to five friends who have been holding my hand for the last couple of years. Through ups and downs, the good and the awful, these ladies have stood firm and proven to me we are more than just friends.

  Lily, dude, there are not enough words to express the level of gratitude I have in my heart for you. You pushed me when no one else would and made me see myself in a whole new light. I have learned to be more confident in myself and to find my true happiness on the inside. You gave me courage when I thought I had nothing left, and you held me up with your unrelenting strength. Love ya bunches, Bossypants.

  Lesley, from the day we started talking, we knew we were meant to be sisters. From playing the “What’s your favorite?” game to long, tearful Skype sessions, you have remained constant. You love me when I need it and are not afraid to say the hard things. I think it was Kris who said it best, you are my soul mate. Love you, Sissy.

  Rai, I am so so thankful to have met you. It is amazing to me how alike we are, and you help me realize I am not alone in a lot of my thoughts and feelings. You are upbeat and always cheering me on, and I can’t wait to see your writing career blow up, because it’s going to, because you are amazing. Love you, Twinsie.

  Jenny, it’s crazy to me how far we have come in such a short time. I can always count on you for anything! From taking care of my puppies to binge watching Netflix, you are the true epitome of a best friend. Love you, Bestie.

  Delia, I could say so many things, but it comes down to one thing, support. You have helped me so much emotionally and spiritually and you are so selfless with your love. I appreciate you so much and look forward to each and every time we get to hang out. Love you, Deeds

  Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Also by Allysa Hart

  About the Author

  Two weeks before my twenty-third birthday, the day I would obtain financial freedom, and there I sat, on a dirty chair in a police station. I crossed one leg over the other and observed the hustle and bustle going on all around me. Uniformed officers answered phones, escorted people in handcuffs, and worked behind computers. There were a myriad of noises, and the smell of stale coffee floated through the air. It made my mouth water for a cup of the real heavenly elixir. I’d had a long night, and it had been well over an hour since he brought me in.

  Same old song and dance. A new asshole cop pulls me over for driving slightly over the speed limit and gets his panties in a wad when I tell him who I am. I’ve never understood why each and every cop seemed to think they could do whatever the hell they wanted because they hid behind a badge. Well, he would learn like the rest of them had. The badge held no power over my family.

  My father, the governor, owned the whole damn city. He came from old money. Old dirty money. For as far back as our family history had been traced, there had been a criminal enterprise attached. My ancestors were drug smugglers, flesh peddlers, and all around bad guys. My father was no better, and with the political clout, there was no stopping him. Not proud of this fact, I did like the money, so I took advantage of the perks of my last name.

  I was untouchable. No one dared fuck with a Burelli. And if they did, well, they were dealt with. I don’t know how my father did it, and I truly didn’t care, but people learned their place around us, and they learned quickly.

  Daddy dearest was not a nice man, but I stayed out of his way, and he stayed out of mine. Except in times like this. Officer “Save the world one criminal at a time” had pulled me over for speeding and taken me into custody for driving under the influence. Coming home from a party where I had been drinking and participating in a little recreational drug use, I was sober. At least that’s what I told the idiot. Just because I couldn’t walk a straight line, he thought he knew better, but I would like to see him walk that line in my six-inch fuck me heels.

  Vincent Burelli barged into the station with two of his bulky cronies at his back. Dressed in a three thousand dollar custom suit, every fiber of his being exuded wealth. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as each officer averted their eyes. They may as well have bowed at his feet. The pussies.

  “Where’s my daughter?”

  I stood without a word and dusted off my dress. It was disgusting in that place, and I didn’t deserve to be stuck there for so long. “I’m here, Daddy. I told them to let me go home, but officer “Do Right” here wouldn’t listen to me.”

  I pointed at the man who brought me in, further sealing his fate. My father’s eyes looked past me and pierced the flesh of the poor man. I felt a little sorry as I watched his bravado fade when he realized the magnitude of his mistake, however, it was the only way these jackasses would learn to leave me alone.

  “Get in the car. I don’t have time to deal with this.”

  I walked past him without a word, but no way was I getting in his car. He would get my keys, and I could leave and do whatever I damn well pleased. Two more weeks and I would be able to access my trust fund and get out of dodge. The city was not the only thing suffocating under my father’s control.

  The fresh air washed over me as I exited the building, and I took some deep breaths to cleanse my senses of the stuffy station. One of the goons followed me outside and stood sentry near me. I never kept track of their names because they rotated often, and I couldn’t care less who they were. This one seemed bigger than the rest though. I took stock of his wide shoulders and large build. He looked like he could be an NFL linebacker. His face was scarred and covered in a thick beard. Not my type. I liked clean cut, slender pretty boys who could wine and dine me and show me a good time. Sighing deeply, I crossed my arms and waited for my keys. At that exact moment my entire life changed, permanently.

  I scrunched my nose in disgust as I stood in front of my Aunt Mary’s ancient antique shop. “It’s only two weeks, Fi. You can do anything for two weeks.” I grumbled, coaching myself as I dragged my oversize suitcase toward the entrance.

  ’I had only met Aunt Mary, my father’s eldest—and estranged sister, once. Somehow, she had been the only one willing to take me in in the wake of the legal shit storm surrounding my father.

  “There’s my beautiful girl!” The door crashed open, revealing a barefoot Aunt Mary clad in black leggings and a multicolored kimono with a matching bandana tied around her head.

  It was going to be a long two weeks.

  “Well don’t stand
there like a bump on a log. Come, come! We have a lot of talking and work to do.” She gestured with her arms impatiently. I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk toward her.

  “I’m pretty tired. I kind of hoped I could take a hot bath and a nap”,” I said, training my voice to convey the right mixture of weary hopefulness. Aunt Mary didn’t fall for it.

  “Ha! You can sleep when you’re dead! And the hot water is out of commission, but I have been assured it will back on in a couple of days. There’s something refreshing about starting your day with a cool brisk shower.”

  My jaw dropped open. This woman is off her rocker. “You know what. Aunt Mary? I don’t want to invade your space. Maybe I should stay in a hotel.”

  “No can do, my dear girl. Your daddy has made a big mess, and there is no money for you. All his money is locked up, and you don’t get a penny till you are twenty-three. By my calculations that means you are stuck with me for a little over two weeks.”

  She was right. Every cent and account and asset had been seized. If I didn’t stay here, I’d be forced to stay in a shelter or beg one of my other family members for help. Burelli’s don’t beg, so I was stuck.

  “Don’t look so glum, dear. We are going to have such fun. I could use some help around here, and you could use some working.”

  “Work?” My tone was full of disgust as I regarded her with a weary side-eye, once again scanning the recesses of my brain for alternative options. “I don’t work. It’s summer, and I plan to enjoy myself.”

  Mary responded with a hard look. “Around here, we earn our keep. Work or go hungry. Simple. Come, come. The chores are not going to complete themselves.” She grabbed one of my bags and gave me no choice but to follow as she headed toward the house.

  Two weeks, two weeks, two weeks.

  I barely held back a scowl as I followed her through the quaint shop. It was overcrowded and stuffed to capacity. I scanned the room trying to make some sense out of what I was seeing, but there really wasn’t any sense of order to be had. The entire place was a clusterfuck of epic proportion. Dust tickled my nose, and I sneezed three times.

  “See why I need some help. I can’t keep this place clean on my own, and I can’t afford to hire out. You came at the right time.” Mary didn’t stop, just kept on trucking up a narrow staircase to the apartment above the store.

  Her apartment was the polar opposite of the mess downstairs. The furniture worn, but clean. Pictures hung artfully on the walls, and everything was neatly in its own place. “Your room is through there.” Mary pointed to a flowery curtain and set my bag down in the middle of the floor.

  “Gee thanks.” I pushed aside the curtain and shook my head in disgust. The tiny space wasn’t a room at all, but a closet! A small closet!

  A single bed pushed into one corner and an old beat-up dresser with four drawers right next to it were all that fit in the tiny space. Dropping my bags onto the tiny patch of available carpet, I fell hard onto the bed.

  “Fi!” Aunt Mary yelled from somewhere in the tiny apartment. “Come have a snack before we get to work. You need to have some energy in you.”

  “I ate on the plane!” I yelled back. I lied.

  “Suit yourself. I will meet you downstairs in five minutes!”

  I held my breath until I heard the apartment door shut and the footsteps fade, then I breathed a sigh of relief, kicked off my jeans, and made myself comfortable as I leaned back on the small but soft bed. It had been a long trying day. I deserved a nap.

  * * *

  The hunger pains hit, forcing me awake. I looked around in a daze, not sure if it was night or day since the cramped room had no clock or window. Leaving my pants on the floor, I made the short trek to the living room. The morning sun beamed through the large windows, raising the heat in the room by at least ten degrees.

  “You make a habit of walking around in your panties, dear?”

  “It’s so hot in here! I would be naked if I could be. What’s for breakfast?” I fanned myself as I sat down at the table and eyed Mary’s bowl of cereal.

  “You may have breakfast as soon as you finish up some chores. I gave you time to eat yesterday before you decided to sleep instead of helping me.”

  I rolled my eyes. Was she serious? “I get it. I’m sorry. I will help today. Can I eat first?”

  “No, you may not. I told you my rules, and you made a choice. Choices have consequences in the real world, dearie, and the sooner you learn, the better off you will be”,” she jabbed, not even looking up from the paper she read.

  “Why did you want me here if you were going to be a mean old witch?” My legendary temper rose as I stood and glared at her. My penchant for tantrums was epic and well known.

  “Be careful throwing the ‘’W word around here. The preferred term is sorceress.” Her response caused me to regard her with further disbelief.

  “Preferred term? Are you fucking kidding me right now? You are a special kind of crazy, you know that? No wonder my father never wanted me to spend time with you.”

  Mary’s whole body sagged in response to my low blow. Beyond hungry, pissed at the entire situation, I had no fucks to give. “There are many reasons your father chose to keep you from me. My being crazy was not among them, I assure you. Now if you are hungry, you may wash that sink full of dishes then pour yourself a bowl of cereal. Be downstairs in one hour, dressed and ready to work. Don’t wear anything fancy; it will be covered in dust before the day is over.” After that parting edict, she took her bowl to the sink and left the apartment.

  I sat there stunned, staring at the closed door. What happened? I side-eyed the kitchen, wondering what evil lurked in the sink, the only saving grace, I couldn’t see a pile over the counter. However, one dirty plate is one too many when you have never washed a dish in your life.

  “Two weeks, Fi. It’s only two weeks.” The mantra played through my head as I limped through the chore and searched out the cereal. I would have preferred some fresh fruit, but all I could find were overripe bananas and what might have been a lemon at one point in time. It was now a yellow rock. I flung the fridge open and cringed when it revealed a half full quart of whole milk. Dry granola remained the only option I could see. “This place is going to be hell on my diet,” I mumbled.

  “Good, you could use some meat on those bones of yours.” Mary came into the room carrying a dusty box that looked like it might crumble into dust at the slightest touch. “I figured since you already did a few dishes this morning, you could do a few more. This is antique china I got from an estate sale, so please be careful. If the entire set is here, it will sell for a pretty penny.”

  I half listened as Mary yammered on about fine china and other old crap while I continued snacking on my handful of granola. I preferred to start my mornings alone in my room with a large cup of coffee and a lot of silence. Our home staff knew better than to talk to me before noon.

  “Is there coffee?” I asked, interrupting her mid-sentence. Coffee might make this day semi-bearable.

  My hope disintegrated when Mary shook her head. “Never did develop a taste for the stuff. I have tea bags and a kettle, somewhere.”

  “I guess that will do,” I capitulated. “I just need caffeine.”

  “Sorry, dearie, but you won’t find any of that here.”

  “Any of what, where exactly?” I asked carefully, praying my assumption was incorrect.

  “Caffeine. I don’t buy it. That stuff is addicting, and unless it occurs naturally in something, you won’t find it in this house.”

  “Caffeine is natural! Oh my God.” I crossed my arms on the table in front of me and dramatically flung my head onto them. “I. Am. In. Hell.”

  Mary had none of it. “Stop with the theatrics. You are a grown woman. Act like it. And, I suggest you get a move on, dearie. We have a lot to do.”

  “You keep saying that!” I moaned in exasperation. “I get it! You are excited to have a slave for a couple of weeks. Why does all of this h
ave to be done now, anyway?”

  “I’m not going to lie and say you didn’t come at the perfect time, because you did, but you are not my slave. You are family who needed help, as I do.” Her tone softened as she continued. “I need to get the shop back up and running, or I will be forced to sell. I was… sick for a while and could not keep up with maintenance. So if you would please finish your breakfast and help me, I would greatly appreciate it.”

  Again, Mary left the apartment without waiting for an answer. Her admission had made me feel slightly guilty about the way I had gone off, but God it had been a miserable twenty-four hours. I slunk back to my room to get ready. I checked my cell for the hundredth time that day, but the result was the same. No one bothered to check on me. As soon as everything went down with my father, I had been completely ostracized from the community. None of my “friends” even acknowledged my cry for help when I needed somewhere to stay, leaving me completely alone. I told myself it was fine, I didn’t need anyone, but I wasn’t a very good liar. I hoped my father would be exonerated so I could get into my bank account again and start a new life somewhere no one knew me or my family. Maybe I would even change my last name.

  * * *

  Elbow-deep in soapy water, scrubbing years of grime off each plate, I looked up when Mary came back for the fifth time in an hour to inform me, yet again, I was not doing the job correctly and made me start over for the sixth time. I flipped the bird at her retreating back and snarled down at the plate in my hand. Her persistence had paid off, however. I was mad as hell but more than determined to show her I could do it.

  I worked tirelessly and stubbornly until my hands were raw and sore, my triceps aching from exhaustion, and my head pounding from the heat, but I was three dishes away from the finish line. Mary had brought up a few more boxes but had not added them to my pile, so I neared the end of this particular hell. God only knew what she planned to have me do next.