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“Alright.” My spine straightens but loosens a second later. I stand over a foot taller than the bloke. On second thought, I undo the clasp of my bowtie.Hopefully, this is less intimidating. No, you daft wanka, you’re wearing a tiara.
So, there’s that.
“I’d like to get to know you, Victor,” Jonah mumbles humbly as I shake his hand.
“I as well, sir.”
We speak for a moment before Luxury strolls to the table, introducing him to everyone. She even says, “You know, Uncle Charles.”
I scrub a hand over my jaw, waiting to intervene in a fight that never comes. Luxury is moving toward Victoria, and I catch a glimpse of my child’s face.
I rush to our daughter, muttering under my breath, “Oh, you little chit.”
“Vicky, she’s hungry.” Grandmother Sarah, seated the closest to us, takes a linen napkin to my daughter’s cheesy cheeks and hands.
“Open the flower, Daddy. I’m ready now,” Victoria groans, eyes glazed over in preparation for a food coma.
“I’ve not the capital to do so. Ahem, I’m referring to money, sweetheart.”
“Oh, yes, you do.”
Luxury has finally finished introductions and stops at our daughter. “Dad,” she says to Jonah, “I’d like you to meet the most important—”
“Mommy, Daddy won’t open the flower.”
“You sneaky, little informant,” I growl, fingers ready to attack her with vicious tickles. But Luxury zips past me and picks our daughter up from the chair.
“While your father brags that he can do anything,” Luxury gives me a pointed look, “this is out of his hands. Victoria, Mommy’s helpless too. The flower should bloom soon.”
Our little girl curls into Luxury’s arms. “But I’m sleepy, Mommy. I didn’t see the Queen of the Night last year. I wanna see it now.”
“You were there for the blooming,” I correct, pushing a tendril of hair behind Victoria’s ear. I plant a kiss on her furiously scrunched nose. “Listen, we’re having this grand event, but the truth of the matter is, the Queen of the Night will open tonight at some time or another. If you fall asleep, Mummy and Daddy will wake you. But before you do,” I pause, offering Luxury the buffer necessary to redirect the conversation.
Luxury murmurs, “Mommy just wants to introduce you to Grandpa.”
“No. No more grandpas.” Victoria yawns, face tucking into Luxury’s neck. Voice muffled, our precious daughter adds,“I have Grandpa Burt. AndUncleGrandpa Red and . . .”
“Please,” Jonah speaks up, stepping around his daughter.
Although Victoria’s indigo eyes were starting to slant, the girl repositions herself in Luxury’s arms to address her grandfather. Taking in a hitch of air, she says, “You have tiny dots like Mommy.”
While my daughter’s animated tone has caught the attention of everyone, Jonah’s enthralled by her as he slides a hand over his wrinkled cheek. “Ye-yes, they’re called freckles. Victoria, you look just like my wife.”
From the corner of my eye, I notice Charles’s eyes bite shut.Poor bloke will forever pine over another man’s wife.
I’m lucky. With her heart so full of love, Luxury taught me that she’d have no issue with my mourningmy first wife. Or Jude, for that matter.
Slowly, Victoria edges over into her grandfather’s arms. She doesn’t zip from one set of hands to the other in the comfortable manner she does for Burt or Charles, but she slowly moves a finger over Dr. Whitson’s jaw.
Shite, just looking at her melted a killer’s heart. I can’t imagine what Jonah is feeling.
Every time I interact with my daughter, another negative mark against my soul is expunged. Obviously, I took lives, but she reminds me what faith is.
She’s what I believe in.
She and her mother.
* * *
