Page 72 of Wrong Marriage. Right Groom
My name sounded less like a greeting and more like a warning.
“Perhaps you’d like to explain how my missing daughter came to be in your possession.”
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
The words washed over me without meaning at first.
Then the implication hit me.
The missing child Ramiro was searching for...
Could it be Rafael’s lost daughter?
My pulse stumbled.
No. It couldn’t be.
My grip on the edge of the desk tightened instinctively, knuckles whitening beneath my skin.
“I don’t understand,” I said weakly. “Zara has been living with me for weeks.”
“Weeks.”
The word exploded from him.
My heart lurched.
“Weeks?” he repeated. “My daughter was with you for weeks?”
“Mr. Perez, please, perhaps you’ve been given incorrect information—”
“Enough!”
The roar shook the room.
I flinched.
“You think I don’t know my own child?” he thundered. “You think I spent weeks searching for her only to mistake her for someone else?”
He closed the distance between us.
I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him—every ounce of fury pouring off him like heat from a fire.
I retreated instinctively until my back slammed against the wall.
“A blind intern,” he said with bitter disbelief. “Of all the cruel jokes fate could have played on me, it places my daughter in the care of a blind intern.”
Then I heard him laugh.
It wasn’t amusement. It was the sound a man made when he was one step away from breaking.
“The only reason you’re still standing there is because Zara is in this room,” he said, each word sharpened by fury.
“I know this may be difficult to believe,” I forced out, my throat tight. “But she came into my life three weeks ago. Terrified. Bruised. Barefoot.”
My voice wavered. “She could barely tell me her name, let alone where she came from.”
My fingers curled into my palms.
