Page 53 of Secret Baby for my Off-Limits Fiancé

Damn.

She’s selling this way too well.

I spot my father the moment he begins to approach us, tall, composed, with the kind of presence that commands attention without having to ask for it.

He moves with effortless confidence, his salt-and-pepper hair neatly combed back, his dark suit crisp and perfectly tailored. The years have passed him by, they haven’t dulled him. If anything, they’ve only made him sharper. Stronger. Like a fine wine. A man who carries both loss and love with equal weight.

Layla stiffens slightly beside me as he approaches, her fingers curling into mine.

I can’t blame her. My father isn’t the kind of man you meet without feeling something, intimidation, admiration, maybe both.

Then, just as she straightens her posture, ready to greet him, his lips tug into a knowing smirk as he looks at me.

"I was beginning to think this day would never come," he says smoothly, his voice rich with amusement. "My son, bringing a woman home? I was convinced he’d grow old alone with nothing but his ego for company."

Layla lets out a surprised laugh, glancing at me with a raised brow. "Oh, so, I’m a miracle, then?"

"The one and only." My father extends a hand to her. "Enzo Marchetti. And you must be Layla."

She hesitates for only a breath before placing her hand in his, her expression shifting from surprise to something warmer, softer. "It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Marchetti."

"Please, call me Enzo."

Her smile deepens, and just like that, the moment of hesitation is gone.

I watch as my father studies her, his sharp gaze assessing, but not in the way most men do.

He’s not looking at Layla’s appearance, not sizing her up the way others might. He’s searching for something deeper, character, strength, maybe even the way she carries herself under pressure.

And from the glint of approval in his eyes, I can tell she’s already passed whatever silent test he’s given her.

"Well, son…" He turns to me with that same smirk. "I can tell already, she’s far too good for you."

Layla laughs, and I roll my eyes, exhaling through my nose. "Yeah, yeah. Get your jokes in while you can, old man."

Dad chuckles, then turns his attention back to Layla. "Come, let me introduce you to Quinn. I have a feeling you two will get along just fine."

***

Later, as the night winds down, Quinn approaches with a knowing smile.

“You’re staying, right?” Her gaze flicks between me and Layla.

I hesitate. I had warned Layla about the possibility of staying the weekend.

But now?

Now, the idea of sharing a room with her feels… dangerous.

I roll my shoulders, keeping my voice light. “That’s her call.”

Layla’s eyes dart to mine, searching for something.

She knows.

She knows what staying the night means.

She knows we’ll be alone, in the same bed, with no escape.

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