You had been waiting for the right time.

A few hours after he had come home

and had a few cigarettes as well

as a drink in his office.

He would be settled by now.

Shirt unbuttoned slightly,

cold chain against his chest as he relaxed

against the luxury leather sofa.

Opening his door without asking,

you stepped into his office

in your cute little pyjamas,

a pink piece of paper in your hands

that contained the names of all the things you wanted for christmas,

his intense blue eyes falling onto you

but you ignored them,

climbing onto the sofa with him.

"Hi daddy"

You made light conversation,

a cute little smile on your face.

"Hm"

He scoffed,

lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips

as you snuggled into him,

the back of your head resting against his chest,

something else you didn't ask him permission for.

"I made my christmas list,

see?"

You told him sweetly,

holding it up to him.

"Only seventy seven days away"

"Let's take a look huh?"

He muttered under his breath,

taking the piece of paper from you,

holding it away slightly and squinting

his eyes so that he could see it better.

Jack Napier wasn't a twenty year old anymore.

"A slushy machine?"

He raised an eyebrow questioningly,

skimming through the items.

"A popcorn maker?

A pink car?"

"Not a real one"

You interjected,

as if he didn't know already.

"A toy one,

daddy.

And I want it to have flowers and-"

"We'll see,

alright?"

He shut you down,

letting the paper drop to the coffee table,

a soft sigh leaving your mouth.

"Why do you have to see?"

You breathed out.

"You said I could have anything I wanted

if I be a good girl this year

and I have, daddy.

I brushed my teeth every night

and went to bed when you told me to and-"

"Oh,

like ya weren't having

a little tantrum this morning?"

He cut you off.

"I don't think so,

little girl.

You get what I give you"

"What are you going to give me?"

You asked him curiously,

tilting your head.

"A nice big box of coal"

He smirked,

a low chuckle leaving his mouth

when you pouted,

lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips again

and taking a sip,

a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"You know,

in my days sweetheart,

we used get an orange in a stocking over the fireplace and maybe some chocolate

if we we're really lucky"

"An orange?"

You furrowed your eyebrows.

"That's awful,

daddy.

I would cry if I woke up on Christmas Day

and all you got me was a piece of fruit"

"Bet 'cha would,

ya little brat"

He rolled his eyes at your expectant behaviour,

the way he had spoiled you rotten

every birthday, every easter, every christmas

and it was starting to show.

"Look,

I don't wanna talk about this shit hm?"

He told you firmly,

pulling you onto his lap,

kissing your little forehead roughly,

draping one of the fluffy blankets

over you because there was a chill in the air

and his little girl being cold just wouldn't do.

"It's only October.

We'll talk about when it's closer to the time

but you think about that little entitled

thing ya got going on,

ya got that?"

"En..."

You tried to say it,

trailing off into a short silence.

"Entitled"

He repeated the word more firmly

so you would get it.

"It's means you think I fucking owe you shit.

I don't buy you things because I think I should,

little girl.

I get it for ya cos I want to"