Adopted by the Billionaire✔️

[17]

Antonio's POV
The moment my conference call ended, I heard laughter.
Not the polite kind. The real kind—light, unguarded, unfamiliar in my home.
I stepped out of my office and followed the sound until I reached Ellie's room. The door was wide open. I stopped at the threshold and leaned against the frame.
She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by dolls.
Then she looked up.
Those big, chocolate‑brown eyes met mine, and I smiled without thinking.
She was wearing my shirt.
And my jacket.
Both of them hung off her tiny frame, sleeves swallowing her hands. She stood up too fast and ran toward me, tripping over the fabric. I caught her just in time.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed, flustered.
I lifted her easily, the weight of my clothes nearly pulling her back down.
"Why are you wearing my dirty clothes?" I asked, feigning a glare.
She explained proudly that she'd been playing dress‑up with Jenna.
"I see," I said, setting her down.
I turned to Jenna, who stood near the bed. "Looks like you got her to like you."
"It wasn't hard," she replied casually.
I narrowed my eyes at her—but before I could say anything, Ellie tugged at my sleeve.
"Daddy, help me get out of your clothes."
"Give me a second, princess."
I stepped closer to Jenna, lowering my voice. "What did you do to earn her trust so quickly?"
Her posture stiffened.
"I'll go grab my things from the car," she said quickly.
She left without another word.
Ellie waited patiently, hands folded.
I picked her up again. "Why aren't you wearing your sling?"
"My wrist doesn't hurt anymore."
I wasn't convinced—but I let it go.
She asked about Mat. I explained who he was while carefully helping her change and applying the arnica cream to her bruises. Cortez said they'd fade. I hoped he was right.
Dinner was simple—mac and cheese, her request. Before cooking, I measured her.
Five inches.
In three days.
I stared at the tape measure longer than necessary.
She was catching up.
Jenna returned while we were in the kitchen. Ellie insisted on helping. I supervised. Jenna fetched the milk without being asked. I noticed—and didn't comment.
Later, after Ellie was fed, bathed, and asleep, the penthouse finally went quiet.
Jenna and I sat in the living room. Wine between us.
"I don't like how easily Ellie warmed up to you," I said plainly. "But it's helped her speak more. So... thank you."
She stared into her glass. "I didn't trick her."
"Then tell me," I said. "About you."
I'd known her ten years. She'd never once opened up.
She took a breath.
"When I was in tenth grade, my real father died."
I remembered. I'd found her crying once. She'd never explained.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
She waved it off—but kept talking.
"My stepmother and I were close. After my dad died, she changed. Married again. Had kids. I stopped mattering."
I listened.
She spoke of being ignored. Of losing the company she was meant to inherit. Of college funded by pride instead of support. Of being cut off entirely.
"I didn't ask for help," she said. "I didn't want pity."
That hit too close.
"I told myself I'd be stronger," she continued. "Like him."
I took a slow sip of wine.
"You shouldn't have carried that alone," I said.
She gave a humorless smile. "Neither should Ellie."
Silence settled between us.
"She's safe here," I said finally. "That's not negotiable."
Jenna nodded.
And for the first time, I believed her.

To be continued~

revision: 3.10.26