"Stand still."
Sinclair gripped Melissa by the back of her collar with one hand, effortlessly lifting her off the ground like a misbehaving kitten.
"Don't go crashing into Camilla."
His voice was calm, almost indifferent, yet carried an unmistakable edge of authority.
This girl was always so reckless.
Taylor stood nearby, his eyes crinkling with quiet amusement, his expression unreadable.
Clearly, he had anticipated this outcome from the start.
Vicente observed the scene with pursed lips.
Though Sinclair was stern, he was usually lenient with Melissa—certainly not the type to forbid even the slightest contact with Camilla.
His sharp gaze shifted from Sinclair to Camilla, lingering on her hands, which were instinctively cradling her abdomen.
His eyes narrowed slightly in realization.
Could it be...?
A knowing smirk tugged at Vicente's lips as the pieces fell into place.
"Ahhh!
Uncle, Sinclair, put me down!!"
