Walking down the stairs was the man Ameelah dearly remembered. He was still the same man, who loved her since she was little. He was said to be ruthless when it comes to business, but he has a soft spot always for his youngest daughter.
Ameelah’s tears fell more like rivulets this time as she watched the man walked down the stairs and approached them. The heavy, rhythmic sound of his leather shoes against the polished wood echoed through the foyer, sending a wave of nostalgia straight to her heart.
“Dad…” she sob as she called him. The word felt heavy, yet desperately needed, tearing from her throat in a broken whisper.
“Ameelah, you are back,” Mr. Grayson said shortly. His voice was calm and collected, although his eyes showed longing and a long time misery turned to abrupt surprise an
