He doesn't babysit. She doesn't kneel. Fate had other plans.Kaden Frazer thrives in chaos. As one of the founding partners of an elite black ops recovery firm — and the exclusive Club Rouge — he lives for the rush of the field and the thrill of watching defiance melt into surrender under his gaze. He doesn't do soft. He doesn't do sentimental. And he definitely doesn't do favors for old friends.Especially not favors that come in the form of a mouthy little niece with too much attitude and not enough survival instinct.Sage Lewis is done. Done with her uncle's smothering. Done with men who think a woman with a badge needs protecting. She's an FBI Undercover Operative with a black belt and a chip on her shoulder the size of Texas. She doesn't need a keeper. She doesn't need a bodyguard.She definitely doesn't need a Daddy Dom.That's the story she's sticking to — right up until Kaden Frazer pins her with one dark, knowing look at Club Rouge, and every argument turns to ash on her tongue.Sneaking into the club was easy. Getting her bottom blistered wasn't part of the plan. Falling for the maddening, possessive Dom demanding she call him Daddy was even less part of it.Then her case blows wide open. Her cover is compromised. Her enemies are closing in. And the only man standing between Sage and a bullet is the one Dom she can't stop wanting — and can't afford to need.Some little girls fight to the last breath. Some Daddies refuse to let them fall.