Page 295 of Sweet Nightmare
She hugs me before I can react.
I clear my throat when she releases me. “Please call me Stephen, Mrs. Volpe.”
She smiles warmly. “Only if you call me Andrea.”
This woman is walking sunshine. How she ended up with a daughter who could probably argue with the sun for daring to rise should be studied by scientists, but I’m fucking grateful she did.
“I’m happy you came,” she says. “I was beginning to wonder when you would.”
I blink.
What the fuck does that mean?
Before I can ask, another set of footsteps approaches.
These are slower.
Heavier.
The atmosphere changes before the man even enters the room.
Artemis’ father walks through the doorway, and I immediately understand why nobody needs to describe Lucan Volpe as intimidating.
He simply is.
Tall and broad-shouldered, with tattooed hands, silver-streaked brown hair, and sharp blue eyes that settle on me with the calm attention of a man who has spent his entire life making people nervous without ever needing to raise his voice.
He studies me for several seconds.
“So…you’re Stephen.” His voice is quiet and rough.
“I am.”
His eyes don’t leave mine.
“The man my daughter chose.”
That lands harder than I expect.
Not the rapper.
Not the scandal.
Not the man in those photographs and video with his baby girl.
The man my daughter chose.
“Yes, sir.”
He gestures toward the sofas.
“Sit.”
It isn’t a request.
We sit, Andrea beside her husband and me across from them. Lucan folds one leg over the other and watches me with the patience of a man who has no intention of helping me get comfortable.
“What can we do for you?”
