𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦

C.23

(Ask and u shall recieve I tolddddd yall if u don't message me I won't update 😭😭 PLEASE don't be shy ask 9/10 i forgot)

Carlos's POV

He stared at her.

Valentine.

Not Aaleetia.

But... close enough to fracture him for half a second.

Her face held pieces—not the softness, not the grace. But the eyes? Those were hers. Before the world touched them.

Then his eyes slid to Quincy. Protective. Rigid. Blocking like a wall.

Carlos blinked slowly.

Then it clicked.

His gaze flicked between them again.

And suddenly, he smiled.

"Aah," he breathed out, voice warm and delighted, like he'd just discovered a hidden room in his favorite house. "Young love."

He stepped back a bit, still grinning. "I fell in love once too. Married her. Built a whole life around her. And now..."

He looked back to Valentine, eyes glinting with something dangerous under the charm.

"Now we have a daughter."

He tilted his head.

"Well. You're included, I guess."

Valentine's mouth parted. "What—? Is this real? Are you saying you're—"

Carlos's smile vanished.

He didn't speak right away. Just looked at her.

Like her voice was a slap.

Like her doubt was sacrilege.

Then he took a deep breath.

A long one.

The kind that sounds like it's keeping a monster from showing its teeth.

When he smiled again, it was forced and much too wide.

"I have to remember," he said softly, almost apologetically, "you're my child. Not just some regular civilian. Your mouth is as reckless as your father's."

He chuckled, a quiet, sinister thing, like an inside joke only he understood.

"But your mother..."

His gaze softened—dangerously.

"Her mouth? Sweet."

He closed his eyes like he was picturing it.

Savoring it.

Then he reopened them, sharp again, locking eyes with Valentine.

"I should prepare the jet," he said lightly, as if they were planning brunch. "Aaleetia's going to love this little reunion."

He turned without another word, walking toward the hallway like the scene was already over—like their fate was decided and they just hadn't accepted it yet.

Valentine's fingers latched onto Quincy's wrist.

Low.

Fast.

"Come on," she whispered.

She pulled him toward the front door, heart racing now. She didn't know what the hell was happening—if this man was telling the truth or just playing some sadistic game—but whatever it was, it didn't feel safe.