The relaxed, warm atmosphere in the penthouse seemed to shift, the glittering city lights outside suddenly feeling a little colder. Killian’s hand stopped its slow movement through her hair, his entire body subtly bracing as he listened to her words.
When she mentioned her father, a dark, heavy stillness settled over him. The "Ice King" knew a lot about cold, demanding parents, but hearing that someone had actively tried to crush the vibrant, artistic spirit of the woman in his arms made a slow, dangerous heat bloom in his chest. His grip around her waist tightened instinctively, pulling her a fraction closer, as if he could retroactively shield that little girl from the words that had hurt her.
"He was wrong," Killian said, his voice dropping into a low, fiercely protective growl. "He w
