I’m The Spoiled Princess With Three Dads Chapter 04

I’m The Spoiled Princess With Three Dads Chapter 04

Sophie came back the next day. This time she moved in.

The housekeeper said her mom was away on business for three days, and Mr. Hart had agreed to let her stay through Friday.

I stayed home from kindergarten with a low-grade fever.

Doc Dad took my temperature three times, wrote three separate care instructions, and revised the kitchen menu five times.

Before he left for the hospital, he kissed my forehead. “Be good, Lily. Doc Dad will be back tonight.”

After his car pulled away, Sophie slowly turned to look at me.

I was wrapped in a little blanket on the couch. It was just us in the living room—the housekeeper was in the kitchen making porridge.

Sophie smiled. A very small smile, nothing like the sweet ones before.

“Lily,” she said, dropping the “sweetie” for the first time. “Did you get my note?”

I didn’t answer.

She pulled another piece of paper from her pocket and spread it on the coffee table. It was a photo of my three dads—cut from a family album.

Beside Jonathan, she’d drawn a little girl with pigtails. Right over where I stood, she’d drawn a big red X.

“This is how it’s gonna be,” she said, still in that soft, sweet voice. A chill ran down my spine.

“Go away,” I pulled my blanket tighter.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She tilted her head. “Mommy says this is going to be my home soon.”

“No, it’s not!” Tears spilled out. “This is my home!”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Lily Hart!”

“Okay. But one of Mr. Hart’s friends is already helping change my name. Soon I’ll be Sophie Hart.”

I went rigid. “You’re lying…”

“I’m not.” She unwrapped one of the strawberry candies and popped it in her mouth. “You’ve been so spoiled all this time. Your dads are exhausted.”

“You can’t even do your hair right. You’re picky with food. You cry all the time. I’m different.” She smiled.

“I rub Mr. Hart’s shoulders. I bring Mr. Reeves tea. I even recite medical terms for Mr. Pierce. How can you compete with that?”

I couldn’t answer. Every word drove into me like a needle.

I’m five. I’m only five. Doing my own hair is already a big deal for me. Eating broccoli took everything I had.

I’ve been holding back tears for days. But… but I still wasn’t good enough.

Tears dropped one by one onto my blanket.

Sophie walked over and reached out. She yanked my crooked little bun right off my head.

“Ugly,” she whispered. “If Mr. Hart sees you like this, he’ll want you even less.”

Then she pointed at the little gold ID bracelet on my wrist—the one Big Dad had made with my name engraved on it. “Give me that,” she said.

“…No.”

“Too bad. It’s gonna be mine anyway.” Her small hand clamped around my wrist. I tried to shake her off but couldn’t. Her fingernails dug into my skin, sharp and burning.

I burst out crying. “Let go! Let go of me!”

“Cry,” she laughed quietly. “Cry louder. Let the housekeeper hear. Let her hate you too.”

The living room door swung open. Not loud. But the air froze solid.

Sophie’s hand still gripped my wrist. She turned her head slowly, slowly.

Three men stood in the doorway.

Big Dad Jonathan, suit jacket draped over his arm—just back from work.

Dad Two Michael, still holding the bubble tea he’d brought for me.

Doc Dad Daniel, still in his surgical scrubs with a coat thrown over them.

Three pairs of eyes landed on Sophie’s hand around my wrist.

On the red fingernail marks across my skin. On my tear-streaked face. On my tangled hair. On the family photo with the big red X on the coffee table.

No one spoke. The silence was so thick you could hear my tiny sobs.

Sophie’s face drained of color, inch by inch. She tried to let go.

Too late.

Jonathan spoke, his voice low and terrifying.

“Sophie Warren.”

“…Look up.”