Chapter 26: Accidental Doctor Daddy: Chapter 26

The hostess barely glanced at me when I walked in—which was exactly how I wanted it. No last names, no handshakes, no special treatment. Just a quiet nod and a “this way, sir,” as she led me through the low-lit dining room toward a secluded table in the back.

Ella had insisted we meet here instead of arriving together—just in case. Her words, not mine. The nanny had the twins at home for a trial evening shift, and this was supposed to be our night.

Our first real date. One night to pretend we were just two normal people, out for good food and better company. No secrets. No lies. No baby monitors. Just us.

But she was late and I was getting worried she wouldn’t show. I downed my whiskey to calm my nerves but nothing could have prepared me for the moment she finally did walk in.

She was radiant.

Curves wrapped in silky black fabric that hugged her hips like a second skin. A neckline that teased just enough cleavage to make my mouth go dry. Her hair was pinned up, loose tendrils falling around her face, and her lips were stained a deep red that made me want to ruin her makeup in the backseat of my car.

I stood immediately, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst. “Jesus, Ella.”

She blushed, but her eyes sparkled. “Is that a good Jesus or a too-much-cleavage Jesus?”

I stepped around the table and reached for her coat. “It’s a how-am-I-supposed-to-make-it-through-dinner-looking-at-you Jesus.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled as I slid the coat from her shoulders, revealing the full curve of her ass as she turned. My cock stirred. Of course it did. I guided her to her seat with a hand on the small of her back, letting it dip slightly lower than polite.

The host handed us menus and poured the wine I’d pre-selected, then said with a warm smile, “It’s always lovely to see a father and daughter out with each other.”

“Date,” I snapped, a little too fast.

A beat of silence.

Ella snorted. She actually snorted. “Wow, that’s one for the scrapbook.”

The host paled. “I—I’m so sorry, sir.”

I forced a tight smile. “It’s fine. Let’s just…start with the wine, yeah?”

He retreated like his shoes were on fire. Ella bit her lip, holding in laughter.

“You think that’s funny?” I asked, leaning in, brushing her thigh under the table with my fingers. “You like being mistaken for my daughter?”

She leaned forward, her voice low and wicked. “I like watching you squirm.”

“Careful, baby,” I murmured in her ear, letting my palm slide higher on her thigh. “I’m one wrong look away from dragging you into the bathroom and reminding you exactly who you belong to.”

She licked her lips. Her legs parted, just slightly.

Yeah. I had her.

But something in her gaze flickered. Just for a second. Like her thoughts had drifted somewhere heavier than the heat between us.

I kept the conversation light, feeding her the most expensive bites on the menu, watching her cheeks flush when I whispered things she’d earned with that dress. But beneath the banter, something in her was wound tight.

“What?” I asked finally, brushing her knuckles with my thumb. “You’re somewhere else.”

She shook her head, smiling like it was nothing. “I just… I said I wanted to talk about something tonight, remember?”

I nodded, but before I could ask more, she slid back her chair.

“Let me run to the bathroom first,” she said, rising.

I didn’t answer—just watched her go.

Her hips swayed with every step. The curve of her ass in that dress was a goddamn threat.

I waited ten seconds. Maybe twelve. Then tossed my napkin on the table and followed.

The hallway to the bathrooms was dim and deserted. I caught her just as she was slipping into the women’s restroom.

“Dom,” she hissed, wide-eyed, backing up a step. “You can’t⁠—”

But I was already inside, locking the door behind me.

“I don’t care,” I growled.

She blinked at me, breath catching as I stalked toward her. “Dom⁠—”

“You show up looking like that, and expect me to sit through dessert without touching you?” My voice was low, rough, and I backed her up until her spine met the wall.

“You’re insane,” she whispered.

“I’ve been hard since you walked in.”

She shuddered when I kissed her, mouth hot and open under mine. My hands roamed—thigh, waist, ass—then slid up the slit of her dress, dragging it high enough to bare the lace tops of her stockings.

Her gasp lit me up.

“Say the word and I’ll stop,” I murmured, lips grazing her throat. “Otherwise, I’m going to make you come with my fingers right here against this wall.”

Her nails dug into my biceps. Her eyes fluttered shut. “God, Dom…”

I pressed a hand between her thighs—already wet. The moment I slipped one finger inside her, she bit back a moan that sounded like my name. Her hips rolled toward me, need making her reckless.

“Not here,” she panted, pulling my wrist.

I stilled, jaw clenched. My fingers still deep inside her.

She opened her eyes, wild and desperate. “Not here. But later?”

I nodded, slowly pulling back, pressing one last filthy kiss to her lips.

We returned to the table flushed, breathless, pretending nothing had happened—like I didn’t just have my fingers inside her, like she wasn’t still trembling when I pulled out her chair.

Ella picked up her wine glass with shaky fingers. Her lipstick was smudged, pupils still blown, and she looked wrecked in the most delicious way.

But then I saw it again—that flicker.

Whatever had her distracted earlier wasn’t gone. If anything, it had gotten worse.

Her fork moved food around her plate, untouched. She kept glancing at the candle between us, like it held the answers.

I reached across the table, took her hand. “Ella.”

She looked up. And I knew something was coming.

“I was going to wait,” she whispered. “Until after dinner. Or maybe tomorrow. Or maybe… never.”

I sat up straighter. My stomach tightened. “What is it?”

She pulled in a breath like she was about to jump off a cliff.

Three.

Two.

One.

“I used to date Leo,” she said softly.

The words didn’t land all at once.

Leo?

The name echoed in my head like a dropped tray in a quiet ER.

Leo… my Leo?

My son?

No.

I stared at her, trying to blink it away, trying to reshape reality. “What did you just say?”

She swallowed. “Before the island. We were together…”

Every muscle in my body locked.

Leo. My goddamn son. The one I’d raised, the one I was constantly at war with, the one I never quite knew how to reach. He had dated Ella?

I saw flashes of her on top of me. Her breathy moans. Her soft, flushed skin. The things I’d done to her body. The things she’d let me do.

And Leo had⁠—

My stomach turned.

I pushed back in my chair, unable to breathe.

“You… dated Leo?” I said again, needing to hear it, to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. “My son?”

Time didn’t slow. It stopped.

I sat there, absolutely frozen.

What the fuck?

I remembered him offhandedly talking about an ex once. Said her name was Mariella, I think.

No. No fucking way.

Mariella. Ella.

“You’re that ex?” My voice was a rasp. “Leo’s Mariella?”

She winced.

“You knew this? All this time?” My hands clenched the table’s edge. My jaw clenched so tight it ached. Fury. Betrayal. Confusion. All of it whirled like a storm behind my ribs.

And it made me want to punch something.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” I growled, my voice low but lethal.

She flinched, and part of me hated that, but the rest of me was too full of shock and betrayal to stop.

This wasn’t just some awkward coincidence.

This was my son.

This was Ella.

She sat still, like she was bracing for me to explode.

And honestly? I didn’t know what I was going to say next.

So I didn’t speak.

Not when she whispered my name.

Not when she reached across the table like she could take the words back.

Not when the waiter brought the dessert menu like we weren’t both seconds from imploding.

I raised a hand. “Check.”

Ella blinked, her face pale now under the flickering candlelight. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Smart. Because if she said the wrong thing right now, I didn’t know what I’d do.

My hands shook. I hid them beneath the table.

My thoughts were a cyclone—Leo’s voice, Ella’s eyes, the image of my girls asleep in their bassinets, soft and pink and perfect. Our girls.

God. What did this mean?

Leo would never forgive this.

Would he even believe I didn’t know?

Would I forgive this?

She had let me fall for her. Touch her. Claim her. All while knowing I’d raised the last man she had called, ‘boyfriend’.

I paid the bill without looking at the total. Didn’t even touch the last sip of wine.

When we stepped outside, the cold air slapped me across the face. Still, I didn’t speak. My fists jammed deep into my coat pockets. My jaw locked.

Ella walked beside me, shoulders hunched, her heels clicking against the sidewalk. She didn’t reach for me. Didn’t speak either.

She didn’t need to. I could feel it.

She thought this was the end.

That I’d already walked away.

And maybe I had.

I didn’t know yet.

I just knew I couldn’t breathe.