Chapter 287
Sophia didn’t rush inside.
She stood outside the glass window, watching the genuine father-daughter moment unfold.
Ethan was focused, building with careful precision.
Little Lily was all giggles and wide-eyed admiration.
For a fleeting second, Sophia felt a warmth she hadn’t known in years.
A family.
She knew it was just an illusion—her own desperate longing painting over reality.
But for that moment, it was enough.
The scene dragged her back to when she was twelve, freshly dumped at the Thornton mansion by her mother.
Day after day, she watched the Thorntons—Benjamin, Elizabeth, and their precious Isabella—laughing, playing, living.
While she lingered on the edges, invisible.
She remembered how Benjamin would toss Isabella into the air, her squeals of delight ringing through the house.
Sophia had stood there, fists clenched, aching for just one moment of that joy.
Every year, Isabella’s birthday was a spectacle—ball gowns, tiaras, towering cakes with candles flickering like stars.
Sophia had dreamed, just once, of blowing out candles on a cake meant for her.
It never happened.
When she found out she was carrying Ethan’s child, her first thought was simple: This child will never know that hunger.
Never feel that hollow ache of wanting.
She would make sure Lily had everything—love, security, a father who built her castles out of blocks.
Like right now.
Sophia watched silently as Ethan washed Lily’s tiny, grubby feet, tucked her into the princess bed he’d bought, and read her stories until her eyelids drooped.
She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until Ethan stepped out of Lily’s room and caught her standing there, dazed.
“Aren’t you tired?” His voice was sharp, cutting through her thoughts.
Sophia blinked. “What?”
“Why aren’t you asleep?”
“I—I was waiting for you.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Ethan’s lips curled into that cold, mocking smile. “Waiting for me to teach you how to please a man? To bathe you? Carry you to bed?”
Heat flooded her cheeks.
That wasn’t what she meant.
She’d just been wondering where she was supposed to sleep. Was she expected to share his bed every night now?
“No, I—”
He didn’t let her finish.
One second, she was stammering; the next, she was in his arms, crushed against his chest.
Sophia gasped.
“Quiet,” he hissed. “Unless you want to wake her up again.”
She bit her lip, silencing herself.
What followed was familiar—Ethan undressing her, bathing her, carrying her to bed.
But then… nothing.
He just… slept.
No demands. No cruel games.
Just the steady rhythm of his breathing beside her.
It was the most peaceful night she’d had in years.
When she woke at seven, the bed was empty.
Sophia wrapped herself in Ethan’s discarded shirt and hurried to Lily’s room.
Empty.
Her heart lurched.
She grabbed her phone and dialed with shaking fingers.
Ethan answered on the first ring. “Yes?”
She swallowed hard. “I know you care about Lily. Maybe I misjudged you. She’s your daughter, after all. But—”
“Spit it out.”
“Why did you take her so early? Kindergarten doesn’t start until 8:30.”
A scoff. “I can’t exactly waltz into a board meeting at ten because I was dropping off a child. Or should I make the entire company wait?”
Sophia flinched. “Right. Sorry. I’ll—I’ll hang up.”
The line went dead before she could.
Ethan didn’t tell her the truth—that he’d taken Lily to the hospital.
Because he knew Sophia would panic.
Morning light filtered through the hospital windows, casting long shadows in the hushed corridors.
William Blackwood’s private suite was guarded like a vault.
The bodyguards snapped to attention as Ethan approached. “Mr. Blackwood.”
He gave a curt nod and led Lily inside.
She dragged her feet, suddenly nervous. “Stinky—”
“Dad,” he corrected flatly.
Lily pressed her lips together.
She wasn’t ready.
Sure, he’d played with her yesterday. Told her stories in a voice that made her feel safe in a way even Uncle Noah never had.
But Mom was scared of him.
And Lily had to protect Mom.
So she planted her feet and crossed her arms. “I’ll call you Dad. But only if you promise something.”
Ethan arched a brow. “Oh?”
“Mom’s debt.” Lily lifted her chin. “You don’t make her pay it back.”
A slow smirk curled his lips.
Clever girl.
His blood, through and through.
Bargaining at five years old.
He crouched to her level. “Here’s the thing, Lily. I don’t need you to call me Dad.”
Her eyes widened.
“You don’t want to? Fine.” He stood and walked toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Lily gaped.
That wasn’t how this was supposed to work!
She stomped her foot, face scrunched in outrage.
Ethan hid a smirk.
Try to outmaneuver me, little one?
You’ll learn.