Natalia Lynch had spent her whole life fighting against her father, but no matter how hard she fought, she could never outrun the truth—she was exactly like him. And that was why she was his favorite.

It wasn’t just the way she carried herself, the sharp edge to her words, or the temper that burned hot and fast beneath her skin. It was deeper than that. It was in the way she could command a room without speaking, in the way people held their breath when she was angry, in the way her siblings looked at her like they were afraid of what she might do.

And worse, it was in the way he looked at her.

Teddy Lynch, the man they all feared, the man who had torn through their childhoods like a storm—he admired her. When she snapped, when her voice turned cold, when her green eyes darkened with something too close to his own, he would smile. A small, knowing smirk, like he saw himself in her. Because he did.

She had his hair—golden-blond, thick, untamed. His green eyes, sharp and cutting, always watching, always calculating. His dark, angular features, a face carved from stone, unreadable until it wasn’t.

She was his. His only. His favorite.

Marie never said it, but Natalia could feel the way her mother recoiled when she walked into the room, the way she avoided eye contact, like looking at Natalia for too long would bring back memories she wanted to forget. Ollie and Sean, still young enough to believe in heroes and villains, had already chosen their side—and it wasn’t hers. Even Joey, who had never backed down from a fight, hesitated around her now.

And Shannon… Shannon, who had always forgiven, always understood—she didn’t argue back when Natalia snapped anymore.

Maybe they saw it.

Maybe they knew.

Maybe they were right to be afraid.