Daddy vs. Papi

The morning.. New York sky looked innocent. Clean. Unbothered.

Unlike the man standing at the door of my hospital room, leather jacket on, my car keys dangling from his hand.

“I’m driving,” he said, no room for negotiation.

I gave him a full-body scan, slow and deliberate. Then looked at the hand holding Ash’s Hello Kitty keychain. Then back to his face. Perfect, as usual. Infuriating, as always.

“You don’t even know how to turn on my seat warmers,” I muttered, arms crossed.

He raised one brow. “I own majority shares in the company that built your car.”

Of course. A classic Zane Romano answer. Everything could be bought—including the right to drive someone else’s car.

I didn’t even get the chance to argue before Ash burst out of the room, already suited up in his dinosaur hoodie and sneakers that were practically falling off his feet. He ran straight for Zane.

“Unc—uh, Papi!” he chirped. “I’m sitting in the front, okay?”

“Back seat,” I shot back instantly.

“Front,” Zane said at the sa