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"Devlin," she whispered. "Are we going where I think we're going?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," I responded, and we spent the rest of the drive in silence until I pulled up to the gates leading to the former Cabot Estate.

"Devlin," she said again. "Why are we here?"

I didn't answer until we'd arrived at the Estate, and I was parked. One of the former employees of the Estate, a butler named Henry, opened the door for Violet, and she let out a delighted shriek before hugging him tightly. It made me happy I'd kept the old staff. Violet was obviously attached to some of them.

"What does this mean?" she asked once she broke away from the hug. "Devlin, we probably shouldn't be here... The property was confiscated."

"It's been sold," I told her easily, giving the butler a curt nod. "And you're looking at the owner."

"You... you..." She was struggling for words, eyes dancing wildly between Henry and me. "You bought Cabot Estate?"

"For you," I replied simply. "Besides, I always wanted to own this place. It's going to look nice after I fix it up."

"T-Thank you," Violet stuttered, surprising me by sauntering forward and giving me a tight embrace.

"I don't deserve this," she whispered in my ear, and I held on just a little bit tighter.

"You do," I told her. "You deserve the world, princess. Come on, let's go inside."

She had another reunion with a maid in the house, and I gave them some space, examining the Estate. The cops had left the place in disarray, but I'd made sure Marlena got it cleared out. I didn't want any of Hugo's shit cluttering the space. As far as I knew, all of their things had been removed, anyway. It was a clean slate, and I couldn't wait to put my touch on the premises.

When I looked at Violet, I was surprised to find her ashen-faced and teary-eyed. The butler and maid retreated while I approached her.

"What's wrong, princess?" I tilted my head in confusion.

"It's so empty," she whispered. "Nothing's left... Not even my mother's portrait."

"I'll get it back for you," I promised her.

She shook her head, overcome by emotion.

"It's okay, Violet," I told her. "Come on. Show me your favorite places in the house."

"They're all gone," she whispered.

"Not all of them," I told her. "I heard they haven't touched the attic. All your things should still be there as you left them."

"There's nothing up there," she shook her head. "Just some old stuff..."

"Come on," I encouraged her. "Let's have a look. Maybe you'll find something to make you feel a bit better, princess."

She shrugged, and I could see how defeated she felt. It was her childhood home, but now, it was devoid of everything that made it hers.

It took some coaxing, but she finally agreed to go to the attic.

"Watch your step," I told her as we climbed the stairs, but it was too late.

She stumbled, and just before she fell, I caught her in my arms, holding onto her. Her eyes met mine, the trace of tears now gone, her bottom lip trembling.

"It's okay, princess," I told her, kissing her lips again. "It's all going to be okay."

She let out the smallest of whimpers as I helped her back to her feet.

It surprised me that I was so eager to make her feel better. It was a side of me I wasn't used to.

We got into the attic, and I thought she'd start crying again when she saw the three meager boxes of memories the cops had left behind. But she stayed strong, and while I inspected the view from the tall windows, she rummaged through the boxes.

"Anything interesting?" I asked her after a while, looking at her over my shoulder.

"These are my mother's things," she whispered. "Her books, her notebooks."

"She kept a diary?" I asked curiously. "You never mentioned that..."

"I never knew," she told me, pulling out a stack of dusty notebooks. "Look... There are so many of them."

"You can take them back to the Manor," I told her, and her eyes lit up when she looked at me.

"Thank you, Master." She looked back down at the box.

If a bunch of dusty books will make her smile, then so be it.

At the mention of my title, my cock hardened. It was enough to hear that one little word from her lips to get me fucking hard as hell. She was a walking temptation, and I was eager to respond to her siren's call.

"Mr. Windsor?" A woman’s voice echoed behind me.

I turned around, facing the maid from before. "Yes?"

"There's..." She looked nervous, glancing over my shoulder at Violet. "There's a phone call downstairs."

"A phone call?" I repeated. "Who would call here?"

"The landline, I..." she started. "It hasn't been disconnected. It's for Miss Cabot."

"A phone call for me?" Violet repeated, joining me by the stairs with a box of notebooks. "Who is it?""

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