Page 18 of My Daddy Valentine

Ella stops in front of a door, opens it, and lets me walk in first.

The room is stunning. It’s not massive, but it’s grand enough to make you feel like you’re in a five-star hotel. The bed is enormous, covered in crisp white linens with a deep navy throw at the foot of it. There’s a seating area by the window with plush armchairs and a small desk. The bathroom is open to the room, separated by a glass wall, with a walk-in shower and a large soaking tub. The view of the resort’s sprawling grounds is breathtaking, and I find myself taking it all in, impressed despite myself.

And then I look at the bed.

The only bed.

There’s no second bed in the room. Just the one.

Ella seems to notice it at the same time I do. She clears her throat, glancing around the room, her face flushed. “This... wasn’t what I expected,” she mutters, not quite looking at me.

I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she starts, “I was under the impression that we’d have separate rooms. But this—” she gestures to the bed “—this is one bed, Simon. One bed for... for thecouple.”

I can’t help but chuckle, though I can tell she’s uncomfortable. “Well, guess that’s a little awkward.”

Ella sits down on the edge of the bed, running her hands over the smooth covers, clearly unsure of what to do next. “I’m not sure what’s worse: the fact that my parents will be expecting us to share a bed, or the fact that they’ll know we’re faking it.”

I walk over to her, leaning against the dresser. “It’s just for a weekend, Ella. We can make it work. Just remember, it’s for the show.”

She nods, but I can tell she’s still uneasy. The whole situation is messing with her more than I thought it would.

“I guess we should get ready,” she says finally, standing up. “Dinner’s probably starting soon, and we don’t want to be late.”

I nod, watching her head to the bathroom, the tension still thick between us. But as she closes the door behind her, I feel the weight of the situation settling over me. This whole thing—this whole charade we’re playing—isn’t as easy as it seemed when we made the plan.

Ella is beautiful. She’s strong, determined, and in many ways, I admire her. But this? Pretending to be her boyfriend? It’s dangerous.

And yet, I can’t walk away. I can’t stop myself from wondering what will happen next.

12

Ella

Dinner feels like a performance I’m not ready for.

Simon and I stand side by side as we enter the grand dining hall, where my family is already gathered around the long, polished table. The chandeliers above cast a soft glow over the scene, and the low hum of conversation fills the air, but it all feels too loud. Too bright. Every moment is an act, a show for my father, for my family, to make them believe we’re real.

I glance up at Simon, his hand lightly resting on my back as we make our way to the table. He’s calm, as always—his posture perfect, his expression unreadable. He looks like he belongs here, like he’s done this a hundred times. Meanwhile, I’m struggling to keep my composure, my nerves threatening to betray me at every turn. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my palms a little too sweaty.

We reach the table, and my father looks up from his glass of wine. The slightest flicker of recognition crosses his face before his expression settles into one of polite indifference. He doesn’t quite smile, but there’s a kind of assessment in his gaze thatI know all too well. I brace myself for whatever questions he’s about to throw my way.

“Ah, Ella, Simon,” my father says, his voice smooth, controlled. “It’s good to see you both. Sit down, sit down. Kimmy’s been telling me all about your... relationship.” He pauses for a beat, his eyes flickering between us with a kind of curiosity that feels more like scrutiny. “Tell me again—how did you two meet?”

I can feel Simon’s hand gently guide me to the chair next to him, and he doesn’t miss a beat. He sits down first, then glances at me, his eyes briefly meeting mine. I can almost hear the unspoken words between us—don’t mess this up. Play your part.

I take a breath and begin the story we’ve rehearsed. “We met a few weeks ago through the gallery. We hit it off right away. It felt... natural, I guess.”

Simon nods, chiming in effortlessly. “Yeah, we just connected. It wasn’t complicated. We were both looking for someone who understood what we’re about, someone with the same drive, the same values.”

I can feel my father’s gaze intensifying. “Hmm. How convenient, that you two just happened to find each other so easily. It’s not every day that a guy like Simon and a... woman like you cross paths.”

There’s an edge to his voice, a hint of skepticism that makes my stomach churn. I want to snap at him, tell him this isn’t some carefully planned arrangement. But I can’t. I can’t risk it.

Simon picks up on it, as usual. He leans in slightly, his tone casual. “Ella and I clicked because we both want the same things. It’s that simple.”

My father doesn’t seem convinced. “I see.” His eyes flicker between us once more, sizing us up. “And how long have you two been... together?”

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