Three days after giving birth, I watched my daughter’s father refuse to sign her birth certificate while his pregnant mistress stood beside him smiling. Then the most feared man in the hospital stepped out of the shadows, looked at my newborn through the nursery glass, and claimed her in a voice that made everyone stop breathing.

By seven o'clock the following morning, the world exploded.

I was sitting in my hospital room, holding Rosalie against my chest. Her warm, tiny body rose and fell with every breath, her soft dark hair pressed against my chin. For the first time since my labor began, the physical pain in my stomach felt manageable, replaced by a quiet, fierce determination.

The door to my private room swept open.

It wasn't a doctor or a nurse. It was Derek Morrison.

He looked unhinged. His expensive navy suit was wrinkled, his tie was undone at the collar, and his eyes were wild with rage. Behind him, two of Luca’s suit-wearing security guards stood like iron statues, allowing him only three feet into the room before blocking the entrance.

"What the hell did you do, Emma?!" Derek roared, slamming a folded copy of the Raleigh Daily Gazette onto the foot of my bed.

I didn't flinch. I kept my arm securely around Rosalie, shielding her ears. "Lower your voice, Derek. You are in a hospital."

"Do not tell me to lower my voice!" Derek screamed, his face turning an unsightly shade of purple. "Look at the paper! Look at what your petty, desperate little revenge stunt did!"

I looked down at the front page.

There was a massive, high-definition photograph taken in the hospital lobby late last night. It showed Luca Moretti walking side-by-side with a high-end baby bassinet, flanked by four armed security guards. The headline burned across the top of the page in bold black ink:

MORETTI EMPIRE ACCEPTS NEW HEIR: LUCA MORETTI RECOGNIZES DAUGHTER AT ST. JUDE’S HOSPITAL

Below it was a smaller sub-headline that made my heart race:

Morrison Architecture Contract Canceled by Moretti Holdings Amid Staggering Paternity Scandal.

"He canceled my contract!" Derek yelled, pulling at his hair. "A twelve-million-dollar deal! My firm's entire three-year projection! Canceled with one phone call at midnight! And Brittany's father—Mr. Hale—is threatening to pull his investment from our residential project because he thinks I hid a child from a rival family!"

I looked at Derek, seeing him clearly for the first time in three years. The charming, sophisticated man I had loved was gone. In his place stood a selfish, frantic boy whose entire life was built on cards that were now tumbling down around his ankles.

"You wanted a paternity test, Derek," I said, my voice steady, cold, and clear. "You said you would sign if she was yours. You turned our daughter into an 'if.' You walked away to protect your mistress's pride."

"I was being cautious!" Derek pleaded, stepping closer, but one of Luca’s guards instantly placed a heavy hand against Derek’s chest, holding him back. "Emma, tell them it's a mistake! Tell the press that Moretti lied! You know Rosalie is mine! Call the hospital administration and pull his name off the birth certificate!"

"No," I said.

Derek blinked, dumbfounded. "What?"

"No," I repeated, leaning back against my pillows. "You abandoned her before her first day of life was even finished. Luca Moretti stood up when you ran away. He is her legal father now. You have no rights here, Derek. You have no say."

Before Derek could shout again, the door swung open fully.

Luca Moretti walked into the room.

He wore a tailored charcoal wool coat over a crisp white shirt, looking completely relaxed despite the chaos erupting around him. The air in the room instantly shifted, growing heavy with authority.

"Mr. Morrison," Luca said smoothly, taking off his leather gloves and placing them in his pocket. "I believe your visiting hours were over before they began."

Derek turned on Luca, his terror momentarily swallowed by desperation. "Moretti! What is this game?! That child is mine! You can't just walk into a hospital and take a man's daughter!"

Luca stopped three inches from Derek. Though they were roughly the same height, Luca’s presence dwarfed Derek entirely.

"You refused her," Luca whispered, his tone so terrifyingly calm it gave me goosebumps. "I have the hallway security footage, Mr. Morrison. I have the audio recording of you demanding a paternity test while your mistress insulted the mother of your child. In the eyes of the law, you waived your immediate parental claim. In the eyes of my family, you discarded an angel."

Luca stepped closer, forcing Derek to back toward the door.

"If you ever step within fifty feet of Emma or Rosalie again," Luca murmured, "I will not just cancel your architecture contracts. I will buy your firm's debt, foreclose on your office, and ensure you cannot build a birdhouse in this state. Do I make myself clear?"

Derek’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He looked at me, hoping for a shred of pity, but he found none.