Adopted by the Billionaire✔️

[46]

[POV: Ellie]
I sat at the top of the grand staircase, my chin resting on my knees, watching the foyer below. I felt like a ghost in my own house.
Downstairs, the front door opened, and I heard the familiar, rhythmic click of Camille's heels. She wasn't just a visitor anymore; she had a key. She had a drawer in Dad's room. She had a place at the table that used to be mine.
"Antonio! You'll never guess what I found for the fundraiser," Camille's voice floated up, bright and confident.
Dad emerged from his office, his face instantly softening the moment he saw her. He didn't look tired anymore. He looked... occupied. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, a gesture so casual it made my chest ache.
I pulled back into the shadows of the landing, not wanting them to see me. I missed Grant's bad jokes. I even missed Parker's annoying lectures about "situational awareness." At least when they were here, I was the center of the world. Now, I was just a footnote in a busy man's schedule.
[POV: Antonio]
I could feel the weight of the day lifting as Camille talked about the LimeLight gala, but a prickle of guilt stayed at the back of my mind. I looked up toward the darkened second floor.
I knew Ellie was up there. I knew she had been quieter lately, withdrawn and pale. I told myself it was just the "normal" teenage growing pains I'd read about, but a part of me knew better. I had taken away her protectors for training, and I had filled her home with a woman she didn't know how to talk to.
"Is Eliana joining us for dinner?" Camille asked, smoothing the lapel of my suit jacket.
"She should be," I said, though I realized I hadn't actually spoken to her since breakfast. "She's probably just studying."
"She seems a bit... distant, Antonio. Maybe I should try a 'girls' day' with her? Shopping, lunch? Just the two of us?"
I forced a smile. "She'd like that. She just needs time to adjust."
But as Camille headed to the kitchen to check on the chef, I stared at the staircase. I was a Capo. I could command thousands of men, but I had no idea how to tell my daughter that my love for Camille didn't mean I loved her any less.
[POV: Ellie]
I retreated to my room before they could call me for dinner. I wasn't hungry for steak and polite conversation.
I hopped onto my bed and stared at the monitors on my wall. Dad thought I didn't know how to use the security system, but Grant had shown me the basics. I toggled through the cameras until I found the gate.
Nothing but trees and the occasional patrol guard.
I felt a hot sting in my eyes. I was thirteen, but I felt five again—the age when everything changed. I felt like I was losing my father to a woman who looked at him like he was a prize to be won, while I was just an obstacle in the way of her "perfect" life.
The voices in my head, the ones I tried so hard to silence, were screaming now. She's only nice to you so she can stay close to him. Once they have a baby of their own, you'll just be the 'accident' from his past.
I grabbed a pillow and squeezed it against my chest. I wanted to go to Dad's room, to climb into his bed like I used to when I had a nightmare, and ask him if he still needed me. But I knew Camille was there. I knew the door would be locked.
I was surrounded by cameras, guards, and wealth, but as I turned off the lights and curled into a ball, I realized that the "safety" my father promised couldn't protect me from feeling completely, utterly invisible.

[POV: Ellie]
The boutique was filled with the smell of expensive leather and silk, but I felt like I was suffocating. Camille was currently holding up a sequined party dress that was definitely not my style.
"You'd look so sophisticated in this, Ellie! Imagine your father's face when he sees you at the company holiday party," she said, her eyes bright with an excitement I didn't share.
"I don't really go to the holiday parties, Camille," I said, my voice flat. "Usually, I stay home with Grant and Parker."
"Oh, those bodyguards," Camille said, waving a hand dismissively as she browsed the rack. "Honestly, Antonio is so overprotective. I tell him all the time—he's a CEO, not a world leader! Why does he need all those cameras and those two men follows you to school? It's a bit much, don't you think?"
I stared at her. She had no idea. She thought the "security" was just my dad being a paranoid rich guy. She didn't know about the carnival. She didn't know about the blood.
"They keep me safe," I said quietly.
"Of course they do, honey. But you're thirteen! You need to live a little. Your father is so stressed with the LimeLight contract and his new app developments... he doesn't need to be worrying about you being 'snatched' every five minutes." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a "confidential" tone. "Between us? I think he uses the security as an excuse to keep you close because he's afraid of you growing up."
I felt a flash of heat behind my eyes. She made it sound like my life was a drama he created, not a reality we were surviving.
[POV: Third Person]
Lunch at the bistro was a masterclass in awkwardness. Camille ordered a glass of white wine and a cobb salad, looking every bit the polished corporate assistant.
"You know, Ellie," Camille said, picking at her greens. "I've worked for your father for three years. I've seen how hard he works to provide this life for you. He's a good man. But he's lonely. He needs a partner who can help him manage the 'domestic' side of things so he can focus on the firm."
Ellie stopped chewing her pasta. The domestic side? Like I was a chore that needed to be managed?
"He has me," Ellie said, her voice trembling slightly.
"He has a daughter," Camille corrected gently, though the edge in her voice was unmistakable. "But daughters grow up. They go to college. They get married. I'm here for the long haul, Ellie. I'm the one who handles his schedule, his dinners, and—eventually—his home. I'm useful to him in a way a child can't be."
The word "useful" hit Ellie like a physical blow. It confirmed every fear she had—that she was just a liability, a distraction from his "real" life.
[POV: Ellie]
"I'm not a child," I snapped, my voice louder than I intended. "And you're just his assistant. You don't know anything about him."
Camille's smile didn't reach her eyes this time. "I know enough to know that he's distracted. I know that since you've been 'sick' lately, his productivity at the office has dropped. If you really loved him, you'd want him to be able to focus on his work without having to worry about your little... moods."
I felt a tear slip down my cheek, hot and stinging. She made me sound like a burden. A "moody" kid who was holding back a great man.
"I want to go home," I whispered.
"Ellie, don't be dramatic. We haven't even had dessert—"
"I WANT TO GO HOME!"
I stood up, my chair clattering against the floor. I didn't care who was looking. I just needed to be back behind the gates, even if Grant and Parker weren't there. I needed the walls that Camille thought were "too much," because those walls were the only thing that made sense.
[POV: Antonio]
I was standing in the foyer, checking my watch for the fifth time, when the front door burst open. Ellie sprinted past me, her face a blur of tears and smeared mascara.
"Ellie? Princess?" I called out, but the only answer was the violent thud of her bedroom door closing upstairs.
Camille walked in a moment later, looking ruffled but mostly annoyed. She set her shopping bags down on the marble floor with a heavy sigh.
"What happened?" I demanded, my protective instincts flaring. "Did someone follow you? Was there a security breach?"
"No, Antonio," Camille said, rubbing her temples. "There was no 'breach.' There was just a thirteen-year-old girl having a tantrum because I told her the truth."
"What truth, Camille?"
"That you're too soft on her," she said, walking over and placing a hand on my arm. "She's so dependent on you that she's becoming a distraction to your work. I was just trying to help her see that she needs to give you some space. She needs to grow up, Antonio. For your sake."
I looked at Camille's hand on my arm, then up at the ceiling toward Ellie's room. Camille saw a CEO who needed "space." I saw a daughter who had almost died in my arms a month ago.
The gap between Camille's "normal" world and my "real" world had never felt wider.
"Maybe you should go home for the evening, Camille," I said, my voice cold and flat.
"Antonio, I was just trying to help—"
"Go home."
I waited until I heard her car pull away before I started up the stairs. My heart was heavy. I had tried to give Ellie a piece of a normal life, but I had only succeeded in bringing a different kind of monster into her home.