Page 25 of Finally Found You

“So why did you end up in foster care?”

“Mom died of an overdose—she was only sixteen. The state decided Nonna didn’t care for her underage daughter and wouldn’t be a fitting caretaker for her granddaughter either.” I swallow hard. “The Dragos found her and helped with the transition from foster care to living with my only relative. Though, they always stayed close by.”

Lysander reaches out and gently takes my hand, his touch sending a shiver up my spine. “It makes sense why you’re so protective of Kenzy.”

“Be good to her,” I say, my eyes searching his. “Nonna did the best she could with us, but she was old-fashioned. I try my best, but I’m just Cami.”

“You have my word. She’ll always be loved. I’ll do everything to make sure she’s safe, too.”

Sincerity and compassion lie beneath the surface. He truly wants what’s best for Kenzy, and his determination to protect her only makes my heart skip several beats.

The emotional turmoil inside me intensifies, and I struggle to maintain my composure. Here I am, standing on this beautiful rooftop with the man I shouldn’t want, discussing the delicate intricacies of our complicated family situation. The weight of it all feels overwhelming, and yet, in his presence, I also find a sense of comfort and understanding.

Despite the conflict in my heart, I can’t help but feel a deep connection to Lysander—one I must resist.

For Kenzy, I say in my head before smiling and saying, “Have a good night, Lysander.”

I don’t wait for him to speak. I just leave and hope this is the last time we’re alone like this.

Chapter Thirteen

Lysander

Fern is right. This would be easier if I called Cory and asked her to leave France so she can help me. She could help me navigate the mind of a fifteen-year-old. But deep down, I know it’s best if I don’t use a middleman to try to get to know my daughter.

In fact, I could ask Cami for help, but I want my daughter to see firsthand that I’m making an effort to understand her. Even when she keeps glaring at me with a mix of defiance and vulnerability every time I show her a new brochure.

“You’re not easy to please,” I mumble, trying to keep my tone light as I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. I sigh, feeling the weight of this emotional minefield. “There has to be something that piques your interest.”

Kenzy sits across from me, her arms crossed and her expression guarded. “I want to do something with arts and science. No sports,” she says, her foot bouncing with an impatience that only teenagers seem to possess, making it clear she’s not budging.

I arch an eyebrow, intrigued by the challenge. “Both at the same time?” I pull out one of the brochures she already vetoed. Then I remember those are “for little children.”

“What about the one in Palo Alto?” I suggest, pulling out the printouts underneath the chaotic mess of papers. “Every week, they have a different thing. You can do science starting next Monday. We’ll register you for the sculpture one. It starts—”

“But you said it’s too far,” she interrupts, her tone accusatory, as if trying to catch me in a lie.

“No, I said, ‘we’ll have to wake up early to get there on time since it’s a long drive,’” I correct her gently, careful not to let my irritation show. I want to prove I’m willing to go the extra mile for her—literally.

She scrunches her nose, clearly unimpressed with my suggestion. This is so difficult, considering how little I know about her. Yesterday, I believed she was going to give me a chance, but today I realized she’s testing me. She’s trying to see how much she can get away with before I snap.

Kenzy didn’t pay attention when I mentioned I raised my five younger siblings. Two can play at this game. So I square my shoulders, a determined glint in my eyes, and reach for another brochure. We’ll find common ground, even if it takes all week.

“Listen, we don’t have to send you to a summer camp,” I say softly, my voice laced with a hint of desperation. “It was just a suggestion, since I would hate to learn that you’re bored in the penthouse doing absolutely nothing.”

“Well, Cami and I can be out and about in San Francisco. We can always drive north until we arrive in Canada,” she suggests, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

I could bet my entire fortune that Cami has no idea about this “road trip.”

“That would be a great idea,” I say, clearing my throat and trying to tamp down the exasperation. “But unfortunately, you can’t just leave the state without me.”

“Why not?” she challenges me.

I shrug. “Not sure, but my lawyer recommended I keep you close. Also, there’s the detail that you and I have to get our cheeks swabbed.”

“You don’t believe I’m your daughter?” She gives me a challenging look, her eyes narrowing slightly. Fuck, I can’t win with this kid. “I look a lot like your sisters.”

“True, but I doubt a judge will accept a few family pictures as proof of my paternity.”

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