Sebastian's eyes flickered slyly in Lucas's direction, his voice rising just enough for those nearby to hear. "The soup is hot. The child's hands will get scalded," he remarked, a feigned note of concern in his tone.
Lucas bristled at the implication, feeling the unspoken criticism in Sebastian's words. He had just started to reach across the table, intent on helping Mila himself. But before he could act, Mila looked up at him, her eyes shining with quiet determination.
"Papa, I'll handle it," she said, her words confident but gentle. Then she flashed him a sweet, reassuring smile. "Thank you."
Lucas felt his tension ebb at her soft voice, a warmth spreading through his body.
On the other side, Elena watched the interaction, her heart swelling at Mila's sweetness.
