“Clara is my daughter,” I said, voice low. “And you don’t get to decide everything alone. Next time, you speak to me before you invent stories.”
Valentina stared at me, eyes hard.
“Did she call you ‘Dad’?” she asked quietly.
The question cut sharper than it should have.
“No,” I admitted, bitter.
“Then why are you acting like one?” She didn’t flinch. “You may have forced us into this house, but don’t think for a second I’m going to obey you blindly. I’m not your employee. And I’m not your property.”
I stepped closer, letting the space between us tighten.
“No,” I agreed, voice smooth. “You’re not.”
Then I let my eyes lock onto hers.
“But don’t forget… you depend on me again.” I held the words like a blade. “And this time, Valentina, there’s nowhere to run.”
Her jaw clenched. Rage brightened her eyes.
Good.
“Any more rules?” she asked, voice dripping with irony.
I leaned back again, crossing my arms.
“Not rules,” I said, deliberate. “Logistics.” I paused, savoring the dislike on her face. “Security will escort you when you leave. You will not walk alone in town.”
“My situation changed?” she repeated, sarcasm thick.
“It did,” I said. “You are now Mrs. Ferrara.” I watched her flinch. “A credit card will be available in the morning for personal expenses. Use it as needed—especially for Clara.” I allowed myself a faint, cold smile. “I want my daughter well dressed, Valentina. Take her shopping. Buy what she needs. I’m not interested in people whispering that I don’t take care of my family.”
Her face went rigid. Her breathing sharpened.
She curled her fists at her sides like she was holding back a scream.
The anger in her eyes was almost… satisfying.
“Anything else, Mr. Ferrara?” she asked again, voice trembling with wounded pride.
I didn’t blink.
“Just one more thing.”
I lowered my voice, making it clear it wasn’t a suggestion.
“You don’t leave this house without my authorization—especially not with Clara. You don’t make a move without speaking to me first. Is that clear?”
For a second, I thought she might lunge at me.
Instead, she lifted her chin higher, hatred sharp enough to cut.
“Crystal.”
I returned to my chair with deliberate calm.
“You can go.”
