Chapter 13
1002 Words
Simon’s POV
The glow from my monitor cast a pale blue hue across the darkened walls of my home office.
At the moment, I was leaning into my chair, phone pressed to my ear, and listening to Walter drone on about merger logistics and client fallout.
Half of my attention was on the spreadsheet in front of me while the other half was trying to remember when I last ate something that didn’t come from a protein bar wrapper.
“I get it, Walter,” I muttered, rubbing my temple.
“We’ll move forward with the proposal, but I need a more detailed breakdown before I sign off.”
Walter kept talking like he hadn’t heard me. He always did that, going around the circle until I either hung up or made a threat.
But I never got the chance this time, because the office door creaked open and in came Amelia.
I blinked, clearly caught off guard.
She was still in her pajamas, those ridiculous unicorn ones she swore were vintage and her hair was a frizzy mess of curls.
But what caught me wasn’t her look, it was her stance.
Her arms were folded across her chest and chin tilted up like she was ready to fight a war.
“Walter, I’ll call you back,” I said, ending the call mid sentence.
Turning towards her with my brow raised, I said, “It’s almost eleven, Amelia. Why aren’t you in bed?”
She didn’t blink, didn’t even flinch. Instead, she tilted her head slightly and asked, “Why do you hate Hazel so much?”
Stunned, I couldn't help but stare at her.
That wasn’t what I was expecting to hear.
“I don’t hate her,” I replied. “Where did you get that idea?”
“Because you’re always mean to her. You don’t look at her when she’s talking, and when you do, you always look angry. She’s trying her best, but you always act like she’s not good enough to be here.”
I let out a breath, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees.
“I’m doing what’s right for her, Amelia.”
“You mean right for you,” she snapped.
The words stung not because they weren’t true, but because I had heard them before in my own head.
“She’s not your daughter,” Amelia added, her voice getting smaller but firmer, “but she’s someone I look up to. And you treat her like she’s… like she’s disposable. That’s not fair.”
I closed my eyes for a beat.
God.
My daughter has always been sharp. Too sharp for her age. She didn’t just hear things, she absorbed them, observed and also interpreted.
“I’m trying to protect her,” I said. “There are things you don’t understand yet. Sometimes people need a push to get back on their feet.”
“She doesn’t need a push, Daddy. She needs a home and you keep making her feel like she doesn’t have one.”
I sat back in my chair, stunned by the weight of her words and before I could respond, she slid off the armchair and marched toward the door.
“And don’t tell her what to do, she’s an adult.” She yelled and then slammed the door shut.
I didn’t even have time to let her words properly sink in before my phone buzzed again.
This time, it was Trevor, my right-hand man.
“Yeah,” I answered, my voice lower now.
“You’re not going to like this,” he said immediately.
“What is it?” I asked, clenching my jaw.
“The Krowley boys are back in town. They hit a storage facility near the river. They didn’t take anything, just turned the place upside down to send a message.”
I stood up from the chair immediately, my blood boiling.
“What kind of message?”
“One of our guys was there, Liam. They beat the s**t out of him and carved a crow into his back.”
“Jesus f*****g Christ.”
“That’s not all. They scribbled your name on the wall. They want you to know they’re watching and they’re not hiding anymore.”
With my hand stuck in my hair, I made my way towards the window.
The view from my office stretched across the backyard. All I could see was darkness and shadows crawling over the lawn.
“I thought we buried them three years ago,” I muttered.
“So did I,” Trevor said. “But they’re back and they’re bold.”
“Where’s Liam now?”
“Getting stitched up. He’ll live but he’s spooked.”
I nodded slowly, my mind already running three steps ahead.
The Krowleys weren’t just making noise, they were declaring war. And with incoming war decisions, fast ones had to be made.
“I want eyes on every corner,” I said coldly.
“Surveillance, muscle and whatever it takes. If they think they can crawl out of their grave, we’ll make sure they remember why they stayed buried in the first place.”
Trevor let out a grunt of agreement. “Already on it, I’ll be in touch.”
I hung up and dropped the phone on the desk with a thud.
Everything felt like it was unraveling.
First Hazel then Amelia calling me out like I was the villain in her bedtime story and now this.
I turned back to my desk, hands braced on the edge as I leaned forward, staring down at nothing.
My own reflection stared back at me from the monitor; tired, hardened, and somewhere in between guilt and rage.
Amelia was right.
Hazel reminded me too much of the man I used to be, the one who believed in soft touches and second chances. The one who loved too easily and lost too painfully.
But now?
“Damn those Krowleys boys." I yelled, sweeping the documents off my desk.
- Writer
