Daddy's Precious Little Girl

Paint and Diner Talk

Ethan's POV

Putting Ashlynn to sleep last night was a true measure of patience. She was so excited about the picnic that she couldn't stop talking about it, recounting every detail until her words started to slur with exhaustion. I couldn't blame her—honestly, it had been one of the best days I've had in a long time, even with the news my father brought.

Speaking of my father, he was still here. After the picnic, we'd come back to my dorm, and I offered him my bed while I crashed on the couch. It wasn't the most comfortable night's sleep, but he's my father—letting him have the better option wasn't even a question. Still, it had made getting Ashlynn to bed a challenge. She kept looking at me with wide, curious eyes, asking why Grandpa was staying over and if something important was happening.

Something was.

This morning, he and I were going to talk about Ashlynn's father.

I didn't even know the man's name yet, but my father had hinted that he was desperate to meet Ashlynn. That alone had kept me tossing and turning all night. How would Ashlynn handle this? How was I supposed to handle this? She was finally in a good place—safe, happy, surrounded by people who cared about her. The idea of anything disrupting that made my chest tighten.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. I glanced toward Ashlynn's room, where she was still sound asleep, Sir Edward surely tucked into her arms. The knock came again, and I knew who it was. My father had mentioned he'd head to the dining hall early to grab breakfast before we talked.

Opening the door, I found him standing there with a paper bag in one hand and two steaming cups of coffee in the other. "Morning," he said, stepping inside and handing me one of the cups.

"Morning," I replied, accepting it with a nod of gratitude. "You didn't have to go out."

He smirked, setting the bag on the small dining table. "I wasn't going to make you cook for me, and I needed to stretch my legs. Besides, I figured we'd need this for our talk."

"Fair enough," I said, shutting the door and gesturing toward the table. "You get anything good?"

"Breakfast sandwiches," he said, pulling two out of the bag. "And some fresh fruit. I figured you've probably been living off cafeteria food for too long."

I chuckled, sitting across from him. "You're not wrong."

We unwrapped our sandwiches in silence, the rustle of paper and clinks of coffee mugs filling the room. But I could see the change in his demeanor as he leaned forward slightly, the light humor fading from his expression.

"I know this is a lot to drop on you," he started, his tone serious but calm. "But I didn't want you blindsided. This isn't just about Marcus wanting to know her—it's about ensuring she's safe and happy."

I stiffened slightly at the mention of her father. "What can you tell me about him?"

He took a slow sip of his coffee before answering. "His name is Marcus Lupo. He's a human Daddy Dom, a good man by every account I've received. From what I've learned, he's responsible, level-headed, and genuinely furious about what Ashlynn's mother did. He didn't even know Ashlynn existed until recently. Now that he does, he's insistent on meeting her."

"Insistent?" I repeated, my voice sharp with concern.

"He understands that this has to be handled delicately," my father assured me. "He's not asking to uproot her or disrupt her life. But he's adamant about meeting her. Even if she doesn't know who he is right away, he wants to see for himself that she's happy and safe."