Daphne’s POV

“Sweet kid,” Charles said, eyes flicking to Christian’s toy truck by the couch.

“Shame if something happened to him.”

My stomach dropped like I’d been shoved off a skyscraper.

He hadn’t knocked. Hadn’t called.

He just appeared in my home, in my space like he owned the place, his cologne thick enough to

choke me.

I straightened, fists curling. “What the hell are you doing here? Get out.”

He smirked, stepping farther inside. “You always were brave. I’ll give ...