Adopted by the Billionaire✔️

[11]

PSA: This chapter includes teen insecurities, body image anxiety, negative self-talk.

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Antonio's POV

Eliana Smith.

Sometimes I catch myself staring too long—like if I blink, she'll be five again, running down the hallway with her blanket and a grin big enough to light the house.

She's thirteen now. Middle school. Hormones. Friend politics. A whole world of eyes and opinions I can't control.

Our mornings are always the same:
I read the paper, she pretends she's not nervous, then she leans into me for a hug like it's tradition.
And I kiss her forehead like it's law.

Am I selfish for wanting her to stay little?
Yes.
Do I still want it anyway? Also yes.

She's close with Kyle—too close for my liking. I don't care that they're kids; I care that time moves like a thief. Raevynn is her anchor, and I've seen what happens when anchors get cut.

If their friendship ever breaks, I'll be there. I'll pick up the pieces.

Because one thing I know—one thing I refuse to compromise on—
my daughter will never feel alone again.

I dropped her off, watched her walk into the building without looking back, and swallowed the lump in my throat like I always do.

Then I drove to work.

And my day went straight to hell.

Jenna was standing at the reception desk like she belonged there—sunglasses on her head, purse on her arm, smile ready.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm inviting you to my wedding," she said brightly.

I stared.

"You came here... for that?"

She shrugged. "You weren't answering my calls."

I told myself I didn't care. I told myself I was above it.

But there was still something bitter in my chest—something old and stupid. Not because I wanted her back... but because I once thought the idea of a "normal" life was possible.

"I'll attend," I said flatly.

"Perfect," she chirped. "Bring Ellie."

Then she walked away like she hadn't just thrown a rock through a window that was already cracked.

I rode the elevator up, jaw tight.

Do I really want my daughter in the same room as Jenna?
Absolutely not.
But Jenna has a talent for turning "optional" into "public."

When I stepped onto my floor, I saw Camille, and my irritation eased—just slightly.

"Miss Hawkes," I greeted.

She stood. "Good morning, Mr. Smith."

"Lunch," I said. "Are you available?"

She blinked. "Yes."

"Good," I said, and kept walking.

Work started. Meetings. Documents. Noise.

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Ellie's POV

Middle school alarms should be illegal.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

I slammed my hand onto my clock and sat up like I was being personally attacked.

It was 6:30 a.m.

My school starts at 9, but my father's logic is:
"You take forever. Wake up early."