DAXTON POV
Stepping into the house, I immediately spotted Maria’s discomfort, and I f*****g hated it.
Her delicate frame perched on the edge of the couch, her brow furrowed in thought as Val sat across from her, spinning her sob story like she’d rehearsed it a hundred times. My protective instincts flared to life, a familiar burn in my chest. Maria looked distracted, her hands idly fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, and it stirred something primal in me.
I didn’t like it.
No, scratch that—I hated it.
Val was as fake as one of Dad’s ex-girlfriends' boob jobs. And let me tell you, those were about as real as a unicorn tap-dancing in a tutu. She had that same calculated way of leaning into people’s kindness, using it to her advantage. I exchanged a look with Henry, who was standi
