Adopted by the Billionaire✔️

[27]

Antonio's POV

My mother insisted we go out for lunch.
The drive was quiet—too quiet—until Joseph made the mistake of mentioning Miss Hand.
I shouldn't have fired her, he said.
I should have followed procedure.
Procedure had never built an empire.
When I'm lied to, I act. That has always been the rule.
The only reason I didn't explode earlier—when Mat brought Ellie onto my floor—was because my daughter was present. I refuse to let her see that side of me. The side that reduces grown men to silence.
Fortunately, she seemed oblivious. Or at least—unaffected.
I parked and opened the door for her.
Our relationship has changed me more than any merger or acquisition ever could. Instinct. Possession. Responsibility. Things I never planned for, yet now operate on without thinking.
I no longer entertained women. Not since Jenna.
It was reckless.
And the thought of Ellie witnessing anything like that—
Unacceptable.
Once seated, my mother ordered drinks.
"The product launch has been delayed," I told her plainly.
Silence followed.
Then Ellie—of course—broke it.
"Daddy," she asked calmly, sipping her chocolate milk, "how was I made?"
I choked.
Of all the questions.
I am a man feared in boardrooms across continents, yet utterly unprepared for that one.
"Baby," I said after clearing my throat, "you're too young to know."
She didn't push. Instead, she climbed into my lap and asked me to help her choose lunch.
Corn dogs.
Simple. Safe.
Lunch passed without incident. I returned her to school afterward—this time slowly, deliberately, observing the environment. I don't trust institutions blindly.
That's when I saw it.
A bruise.
On her knee.
"Ellie," I asked, lowering her gently, "why do you have a bruise?"
She did the thing she always does when something's wrong—deflection.
"A bruise?" she echoed innocently.
I knelt. "Did someone hurt you?"
She tried to flee. Tried to run.
I stopped her with a single motion and a look.
"Not until you tell me."
"I—I tripped," she said too quickly.
A lie.
I let it go—for now.
But I watched.
And then I saw her.
A girl. Blond. Smug. Too confident for her age.
I kept my phone down but my eyes locked in.
"I bet your daddy's ashamed of you," the girl sneered.
My hand clenched.
"Leave me alone," Ellie said.
"And if I don't?" the girl pushed her.
That was it.
I crossed the distance in seconds.
The girl's expression shifted instantly—fake sweetness plastered on her face.
"I was just helping her up," she lied.
I ignored her completely.
"Ellie," I said, lifting my daughter, "are you hurt?"
She pressed her face against me.
Then the girl dared to speak again.
"Ellie, are you okay?" she asked in a sickly sweet tone.
Two-faced.
"Raevynn," Ellie said quietly, "why are you being nice now?"
The girl faltered.
"Then why did you break my bracelet?" Ellie whispered. "It was for my daddy."
That did it.
I turned my full attention to the girl.
"Miss Raevynn," I said, voice low and precise, "I'm Elliana's father. What I've witnessed today is unacceptable."
She trembled.
Ellie tugged my jacket. "Daddy... I'm sorry I lied."
I crouched immediately, my world narrowing to her.
"Never lie when you're hurt," I said firmly. "I love you."
She kissed my cheek. Repeatedly.
I stood.
"I'll be staying," I announced.
And I did.
Ellie dragged me to the playground like a trophy.
Showing me off.
The teachers noticed. One in particular stared too long.
Ellie noticed too.
"Daddy, push me on the swing!" she demanded loudly.
I complied.
Then she marched me over.
"Daddy, this is Miss Poppy!"
I offered a nod. Polite. Neutral. Enough to make the teacher blush.
"She's in good hands," I said.
Then I ruffled Ellie's hair.
Instant betrayal.
"My hair!" she protested.
I knelt. "Would you like a ponytail?"
Her glare softened.
After school, I returned to the office. The building still feared me—but my temper had cooled.
As I passed Camille's desk, I paused.
Set a coffee down beside her.
"For this morning," I said.
Then I walked away.
Why did I bother?
Because somewhere between firing assistants and confronting children twice my daughter's age, I realized something uncomfortable.
Power bends easily around my child.
And I don't resist it.

revision: 3.10.26