The word landed like a physical blow. I saw Luca flinch, his eyes widening as he processed what he'd just heard. His gaze locked with Kade's in a silent challenge that crackled with barely suppressed aggression.
"Of course," Kade replied steadily, offering his hand to Betty. To his credit, he didn't smirk or gloat—he simply continued in his role as the father figure he had become.
As they disappeared upstairs, I led Luca to my home office, shutting the door firmly behind us. The moment we were alone, he whirled on me.
"She's mine," he stated flatly. Not a question—a declaration.
I met his gaze unflinchingly. "She's mine," I corrected. "My daughter. My responsibility. My life."
"How old is she?" he demanded.
"Eight."
Luca did the math instantly, his jaw tightening. "Eight years. Whic
