Please Me Daddy (Gracie) novel Chapter 206

I’m Grace Jones

Grace

“Woah, who’s that with the Jones? She’s so beautiful.”

“Tell me about it. She’s gorgeous, and she even looks like the Jones. She could really be part of the family. She fits their aura perfectly.”

“Keep your voice down. Don’t let Miss Katherine hear you. She’s the Jones‘ daughter, she’ll get angry if she does.”

“Then why are the Jones walking with that woman? They look so protective of her.”

The voices drifted around me as I walked into the massive Jones Group building, my mother beside me and my two older brothers walking closely behind us. My expression stayed calm and emotionless as I ignored every whisper, and curious glance that followed us through the grand lobby. The marble floors echoed with each step we took, and I could feel eyes burning into my back from every direction, but I didn’t slow down or look around.

We moved steadily forward, and when we reached the large conference room, I could already hear the noise inside. Reporters were gathered beyond the closed doors, their voices overlapping.

“Why did the Jones suddenly call for a press conference?” someone asked. “What happened? They hardly ever do this.”

“I don’t know,” another replied, lowering his voice. “But judging by the urgency, this must be serious. They must have an important announcement.”

I stood outside the door for a moment, my eyes fixed on the polished wood in front of me, listening quietly as the voices filtered through. Beside me, my mother turned slightly and looked at me with concern. She gently held my hand, her grip warm and careful, as if afraid I might disappear if she let go.

“Are you okay, Grace?” she asked softly. “We can go home if you want. You’ve only rested for two weeks.”

I turned my head and looked at her, then slowly shook my head. “No,” I said calmly. “I’m fine. Ryan said there’s nothing wrong with me.

me.”

I glanced toward Ryan, who stood quietly nearby, his expression composed and unreadable, his eyes steady as they met mine.

It had been two weeks since everything that happened in that house, two weeks since my world had shifted in ways I was still trying to understand. During that time, my mother and brothers had insisted that I go home with them, and let them take care of me. But I refused. I didn’t want to leave Apollo. I didn’t even know when it happened, or how it happened, but somewhere along the way, he had become my anchor. Just a single day without seeing him made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t explain.

So I stayed in that house, waiting for him, counting the hours until he came back from work. Sometimes, he didn’t go to work at all because of me. We would stay inside together, talking quietly or simply sitting in silence, and those moments made the heaviness in my heart ease, even if only a little.

But for some reason, my mother and brothers didn’t like that arrangement at all. They came almost every day, as if that house belonged to them, especially my mother and Theodore. They would stay for hours, talking to me nonstop, trying to get closer, and insert themselves into every part of my life until I was too tired to argue, and

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Im Grace Jones

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too exhausted to think. Only then would they finally leave, promising to come back again the next day.

The only time I ever really saw Ryan was when he came to check on me. Every time he arrived, he would calmly send my mother and Theodore away, telling them that I needed proper rest. He always said it in that professional, reasonable tone of his, the kind that made it hard to argue with him.

I told myself I was probably overthinking things, but sometimes he stayed longer than necessary, sitting there and talking to me about random things, almost as if he wanted to spend time with me rather than just doing his job. Other times, he stayed until Apollo came back, and then he would leave shortly after, so I convinced myself it was nothing and that my thoughts were just running wild.

Adam, Apollo’s father, visited too. He came almost as often as my mother did, which honestly surprised me. Seeing them in the same space still felt strange, but they didn’t argue or glare, at each other the way I expected. They weren’t perfect, and I knew the pain between them hadn’t disappeared, but they didn’t let their hatred spill out either. They acted restrained, and civil, as if they were all trying, in their own way, to move forward and live their lives as fully as they could. Thinking about that made a small smile curve my lips.

My mother opened her mouth, probably about to tell me to rest again, but I shook my head before she could finish. “I’m fine, I’m serious.”

She sighed, clearly unconvinced but choosing not to argue.

“Grace,” Theodore called, his voice light as he looked at me with that familiar celebrity smile.

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“When are you going to start calling us Mom and Big Brothers?” he asked casually.

I blinked, caught completely off guard, and instinctively looked at my mother. Her face lit up immediately, excitement clear in her eyes, and even Ryan glanced at me, his usually calm expression softening, his gaze almost sparkling at the idea.

I looked at all of them. I had already accepted them as my family, but saying it out loud, calling them that, still felt unfamiliar.

Before I could say anything, my mother smiled gently and said, “Leave it for now.” Then she looked at me, expression firm but encouraging. “Come on, Grace. It’s time to show everyone who you really are.”

I turned my gaze toward the door “Please open the door,”

her

The security responded immediately, pulling the door open, and in the next second, blinding flashes of light exploded in front of my eyes. I didn’t flinch as countless cameras pointed toward me, reporters staring in confusion and disbelief. I walked forward steadily, my family following behind me, the sound of shutters clicking nonstop.

“What’s going on?” someone whispered loudly. “Who is that woman?”

I reached the chair at the front, but before I could pull it out, Theodore stepped in and did it for me, earning ar audible gasp from the room. I glanced at him and murmured a quiet, “Thank you,” before sitting down.

I reached for the microphone, but Ryan passed it to me first, his movements lazy, and casual. I paused for a second, surprised again, then nodded. “Thank you.”

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Just as I was about to speak, my mother handed me a bottle of water, already opened. “Here, Grace,”

I looked at all of them, warmth stirring beneath my calm exterior. They were doing it again, spoiling me without restraint. I was still thinking about how to make them stop when a shaky voice from the crowd cut through the noise.

“M–miss… who are you?”

I lifted my gaze to the stunned reporters, tightened my grip on the microphone, and spoke clearly, my voice steady.

“I’m Grace Jones,” I said. “The long–lost daughter of the Jones family.”

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