Damian
The air was heavy by the time I returned to the estate. I hadn’t made it past the foyer before the guards flanked me — not with urgency, but with purpose.
My father was already in his office.
Waiting.
I opened the door slowly. The room smelled of cigar smoke, old wood, and the sharp scent of fury barely contained.
He didn’t greet me.
Just turned the tablet around on his desk, slowly, and pressed play.
Images flickered across the screen.
The first: me at the mall, standing just behind Ivy. Lila was in her arms, reaching toward me. My head was tilted, eyes locked on the little girl I hadn’t held in nearly a year.
The second: a wider angle from the restaurant. Camille is at the table. Ivy smiles gently at Lila. And behind them, me.
Standing still.
Watching.
Staying.
The l
