By the time I’m back in my car, my hands are locked around the wheel in a death grip. I tear through the streets on autopilot, my mind a goddamn warzone.
Anna hid my daughter from me? My daughter.
My chest feels like it’s been ripped open, a savage cocktail of emotions detonating through me all at once. Fury, so sharp that it feels lethal, hits me at the thought that she kept this from me. And then the guilt tightens around me.
I left her. Walked away without a word, without a reason. And because of that, I wasn’t there when my daughter took her first steps or spoke her first words… I wasn’t even a shadow in the room while her life was taking shape without me.
As I slam the car into park in the hospital lot, the fury still roars through me, refusing to ebb. I march inside and head straight for the reception desk.
“I need the room number for Anna Delgado’s daughter,” I ask the woman in front of the desk.
She hesitates, then quickly checks the system. “She’s on the pediatric floor. Room 407.”
I give a curt nod, then turn on my heel and make my way to the elevators. I jab the button for the fourth floor. The ride is hell, every second stretching unbearably, and I’m seconds from ripping the doors open with my bare hands.
The doors finally slide open, and I’m out before they’re even fully apart, my strides consuming the sterile hallway. The sharp scent of antiseptic stings my nose, but it’s nothing compared to the fire raging through my veins.
I stop outside the door, my hand hovering over the handle as my heart races. On the other side of this door is my daughter… a piece of me I never knew existed.
With trembling hands, I push the door open, and the sight inside steals the breath from my lungs.
Anna is slumped in a chair beside the bed, her hair twisted into a messy knot, her face pale with exhaustion. But my eyes barely linger on her. They move instead to the hospital bed where my little girl lies. She’s so small. So fragile. Her tiny chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, and a teddy bear is clutched against her side.
My throat burns like fire. That’s her. She’s mine. My daughter.
Anna’s head snaps up at the sound of the door, and her eyes widen, horror flooding her face.
“Landon.”
“She—” My voice cracks. I swallow hard, forcing myself to try again. “She’s mine.”
Anna’s lips tremble, but she doesn’t deny it. There’s absolute silence. And that silence is louder than any confession.
I step further into the room, my voice raw. “You kept my daughter from me.”
Anna’s chin lifts, defiant even in her exhaustion. “Yes, I did.”
For a moment, I can’t speak. Then I let out a strained, “Why?”
“To protect her from you,” she replies without hesitation.
“Protect her from me?” I growl, my fists tightening at my sides. “You think I’d ever hurt her? I’m her father. I should have been there from the start!”
I drag in a shaking breath and tear my gaze from Anna back to the bed. Soft blonde curls spill across the pillow, every line of her face holding a reflection of mine.
I move closer, ignoring Anna’s accusation, each step heavier than the last.
“What’s her name?” I ask in a hoarse voice.
“Liala,” she replies.
I stop beside the bed and force my hands to stay at my sides even as every instinct in me screams to reach out, to hold her, to make up for every stolen second I wasn’t here. But I don’t. I can’t. Not while this anger still burns through me like a live wire, reminding me of everything I lost without even knowing.
I turn back to Anna, my voice shaking with fury I can’t tame. “Two years, Anna. You raised my daughter for two fucking years, while I had no clue that she even existed. Do you have any idea what you’ve taken from me?”
Her eyes fill with tears, but her jaw remains firms. “Do you have any idea what you took from me when you walked away?”
My stomach twists, bile and fire churning in my gut. But before I can speak, the door swings open, and a handsome, young man strides in.
