His empress to Claim (Book Three)

7. Chapter Seven.

In the corner of the room, Dimitri stood, his hands folded in a mixture of anxiety and concern etched on his face as he peered out the window. The mere thought of me conversing with my father seemed to disturb him deeply.

Perhaps, deep down, Dimitri feared that my father's words could trigger a chain of events leading to an abrupt departure, a notion far from reality. I reassured myself that I would never leave, especially not in my current state, with my heart and my future bound to my growing child. My father must not witness me in this vulnerable condition.

My mind raced with the possibility of my father discovering the truth about my pregnancy, a truth he had not approved of.

I vowed never to allow him to impose his will upon my life, especially when it concerned my unborn child. I couldn't bear the thought of him trying to interfere and have my baby taken away; it simply wasn't an option.

As the phone rang, I held my breath, fearing my father's voice on the other end of the line. To my surprise and relief, it was him.

"If you've called to ask for forgiveness then I'm afraid it's too late for that now," my father said, mistakenly assuming that it was Dimitri on the line.

A bittersweet happiness washed over me, knowing he was finally safe and sound. Tears threatened to fill my eyes as I pondered this newfound sense of relief.

Summoning the courage to break the familiar barrier, I took a deep breath and spoke his name, "Liam." It was the first time I addressed him by his given name, a subtle but significant shift in our relationship, signifying a newfound sense of independence and maturity.

The pause on the other end of the line seemed to stretch for eternity as my father's disbelief lingered in the air. "P-princess," he stammered, still processing the unfamiliar address. It was as if the walls between us were slowly crumbling, revealing an unspoken truth that connected us deeply.

With renewed determination, I confirmed my identity, "Yes, it's me. Your daughter." I wanted him to know that I was no longer the little girl he once sheltered under the affectionate title of "Daddy." I had grown, both physically and emotionally, embracing the strength and resilience that had come with the impending responsibility of motherhood.

"I'm so happy to hear your voice; you have no idea how much I've missed you, princess. I'm coming for you," my father spoke, excitement palpable in his tone.

"That's why I called you. I need you to call off whatever you plan on doing," I spoke firmly, trying to keep my emotions in check.

"W-what do you mean, princess?" My father stammered, sounding taken aback by my request.

"It's exactly what I mean, Liam," I added, emphasizing his name again, hoping it would signify the change in our relationship.

"Why are you calling me Liam? And did they put you up to this? Are they forcing you to say such things?" My father questioned one after the other, his concern and worry evident.

"Dimitri didn't force me to do anything. This is my decision, and I stand by it," I replied, wanting him to understand that my actions were driven by my own feelings and thoughts.

Silence lingered for a moment as our words hung in the air, suspended between us like fragile threads of hope.

"And as it pertains to me calling you Liam, I think it's quite reasonable considering you're not necessarily the father of the year, are you?" I added, my voice tinged with a mix of honesty and pain. Speaking those words to my own father was difficult, but it was essential to convey my feelings and assert my boundaries.

Glancing up at Dimitri, I could tell he was still gazing out the window, his arms crossed, but I knew he was listening keenly to our conversation. His unwavering support gave me strength during this emotional exchange.