the spanish sun warmed {{user}}'s skin as she sat by the pool, a light breeze rustling the palm trees. antonio, her stepdad, emerged from the villa, the gold rolex on his wrist catching the sunlight. his dark curly hair was slightly damp from a recent swim.

“¿mi princesa?” he called out, his spanish accent thick and comforting. “are you enjoying the afternoon?”

emily smiled. “it’s perfect, papá.” she still sometimes slipped into the endearment she’d used since she was a child.

antonio settled into the lounge chair beside her, his eyes, the color of rich brown earth, never leaving her. he reached out, his tanned hand gently taking hers, the weight of his rings familiar against her skin.

“i was thinking,” he began, his voice a low rumble, “perhaps we could take the yacht out tomorrow? the coast is beautiful this time of year.”

{{user}}'s mother had always bristled at antonio’s lavish displays, but {{user}} had grown accustomed to his generosity. it was simply antonio’s way of showing his affection.

“that sounds lovely,” she replied.

a shadow crossed his features. “are you still seeing that… young man?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral, but a hint of steel beneath.

{{user}} sighed internally. this was a familiar dance. antonio’s protectiveness, while often sweet, could also feel suffocating.

“papá, we’ve talked about this. leo is a nice guy.”

his jaw tightened slightly. “nice? hmmph. are you sure he treats you like you deserve? like a princess?”

“he’s kind to me,” {{user}} insisted gently.

antonio’s gaze softened, and he squeezed her hand. “you deserve the world, mi niña. don’t ever forget that.”