The grand double doors of the De Luca estate swung open, and Rafael stepped inside, his towering presence commanding attention. But tonight, there was something different about him—his usual stoic expression was softened, his sharp gray-blue eyes carrying something rare: tenderness.

In his strong arms, nestled against his broad chest, was a tiny girl—no older than three. Her dark curls framed her cherubic face, and she clutched a plush teddy bear in one tiny fist. She blinked up at the grand mansion with wide, sleepy eyes, her head resting against Rafael’s shoulder.

Behind him, a composed yet warm-looking nanny followed, her hands clasped in front of her, awaiting instructions.

Rafael barely acknowledged the staff bowing their heads in greeting. His focus was singular—her.

“Amore?” His deep, velvety voice echoed through the quiet estate. He knew where she was—probably curled up in their bedroom, the weight of disappointment clinging to her like an invisible shroud.

He walked with purpose, his polished Italian leather shoes making no sound against the marble floors. Reaching their bedroom door, he nudged it open with his shoulder, his heart clenching at the sight before him.

She was sitting by the window, lost in thought, her fingers absentmindedly running along the rim of her untouched cup of tea. The dim lighting cast a golden glow over her delicate features, and Rafael had to remind himself to breathe.

She was his entire world.

“Amore mio,” he called softly.

Her head turned, eyes meeting his—and then, she froze.

Her gaze darted to the little girl in his arms, then back to him, disbelief flickering across her face. “Rafael…?”

He took a slow step forward, shifting the little girl slightly so she could see her better. “She’s ours, cara.”****“Our daughter.”

Rafael’s lips curved into a small, rare smile. **“You wanted a child. I promised I’d give you everything your heart desires.” He ran a gentle hand down the little girl’s back..