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I sat silently, watching the city whiz by.
Everything I loved was in this city. I have so many fond memories. I lived a lifetime here, and part of me was sad to see it all disappear.
It became clear to me that regardless of how I assessed my circumstances it was impossible for me to remain. It was a difficult realization to make, but what hurt the most was I would be parting ways with my daughter. She was a Davenport. The daughter of the Vice President of the Soulless Sinners. Her father alone had more clout and reach than I could ever imagine.
There was no way he would allow me to take her with me.
Plus, there was the fact that he still had full custody of her.
I could stay. Find some place to live, get a job, and find a way to move on, but I would only be living a half-life. Even I knew that was no way to live. The thought of seeing Caleb meet, fall in love, and eventually marry another woman would hurt me worse than what Cynic did.
No, there was no way I would survive that.
With my decision made, I turned as Maxim’s driver slowed the vehicle to a stop. Maxim said nothing when he stepped out of his car, extending his hand for me to take. Doing so, I slid from the vehicle to find myself standing in front of Davenport Tower.
“Before you say anything. This was where your husband asked me to take you. I don’t know what’s going on with you orthe club but know that my offer still stands. If you ever have need of me, all you need to do is ask.”
I nodded, slipping out of the warm wool coat only for him to stop me. “Please, keep it.”
“Thank you.”
Standing there, in front of the building I once called home, I watched when Happy and Payne walked towards me.
“Hey, little girl,” Happy greeted warmly as Payne refused to look me in the eyes. It was at that moment I knew Bane had told them my deepest, darkest secret. They knew my shame. It was just as I had predicted. Their perception of me had become tainted. They saw me as damaged goods, unworthy of consideration.
It hurt.
It hurt a lot, but I held my head up and replied, “Happy.”
“He’s waiting for you upstairs.”
Swallowing my fear, I headed inside the building.
Wrapping the coat around me tighter, I watched while the elevator ascended, counting the numbers slowly as my time waned. I didn’t know why Caleb told Maxim to deliver me here. Last I knew, he didn’t want me anywhere near the place, let alone our daughter. Whatever the reason, I was soon to find out when the elevator slowed to a stop.
I had no idea what would transpire when I stood face-to-face with Caleb, so I refrained from speculating. The very idea of experiencing the extent of his regret and remorse was incredibly painful and tore my soul into fragments. I knew Caleb. He would bear the weight of his brother’s misdeeds alone, blaming himself and enduring the suffering in silence until he reached a breaking point. The man had a deep sense of awareness and felt a strong connection to everything around him, which led him to take responsibility for every situation. Although admirable traits, he was completely innocent in this particular instance.
The fault lay squarely with me. If only I had been in the right place at the right time. If only I had mustered the courage to scream, call out and fight back with all my might, then perhaps there would have been a chance for me to be rescued.
But I did none of those things.
The elevator doors opened and the first thing I heard was, “MOM!”
I raised my gaze upwards; I couldn’t help but blink in astonishment at the sight before me—my beautiful daughter running towards me with her arms stretched wide—and before I could react, she crashed into me, embracing my waist with a tight hug. Without any hesitation, I found myself wrapping my arms around her, refusing to let go, tears streaming down my face, my body trembling like I was in the midst of a vivid dream.
If it was, I never wished to wake up.
Inhaling the delightful scent of my baby girl, I consciously stored in my memory every single detail of this moment because I never wanted it to fade away.
“Sophia, let your mom breathe,” Caleb said from somewhere close. I looked over my daughter’s head and my eyes followed Caleb’s movements in the kitchen, where he was busy cooking something that filled the air with a delightful aroma. The man was a damn good cook and loved being in the kitchen. I used to joke that he missed his true calling because some of the dishes he created were divine.
“I’m making spaghetti. I hope that’s okay?”
Gulping, I nodded.
My daughter groaned, “He burned the garlic bread, Mom.”
“Did not,” Caleb scoffed. “The oven was too warm.”
