Chapter 6 - The Shadows of the Past
Three days after the Plaza incident, the snow began to fall heavily over Sewickley Heights, covering the Moretti estate in a pristine blanket of white.
Inside the warm, firelit master study, I sat at a small desk, writing a letter to my sister in Ohio, letting her know that Lily and I were safe, happy, and cared for.
Lily was sitting near the hearth, building a tall tower out of wooden blocks with Enzo, who was now crawling happily across the thick rug, babbling joyfully.
The heavy mahogany door opened, and Vincent walked in.
He had removed his jacket, wearing a charcoal wool sweater that hugged his broad shoulders. His left arm was in a black sling—the shoulder wound from the Plaza was healing nicely under Dr. Aris’s care.
He walked over to my desk, resting his uninjured hand on the back of my chair.
“You’re writing to your sister?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” I smiled, looking up at him. “I told her she needs to come visit us for the holidays.”
Vincent smiled—a true, beautiful smile that transformed his intimidating face into something breathtakingly handsome.
“She is welcome anytime,” Vincent said. “This is her family’s home now, too.”
He pulled a dark leather folder from beneath his arm and laid it on the desk before me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“The background investigation into your ex-husband,” Vincent said, his expression darkening slightly.
My heart skipped a beat. Marcus—Lily’s biological father. A violent, gambling addict who had abandoned us two years ago after beating me and leaving us with thousands of dollars in debt. It was his debt that had forced me to take the low-paying housekeeping job at the Moretti estate in the first place.
“Is... is he looking for us?” I asked, my voice trembling.
Vincent reached down, taking my hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.
“He was,” Vincent revealed smoothly. “Two days ago, Marcus discovered you were living at my estate. He went to a local tabloid, trying to sell a fake story claiming I had kidnapped you and your daughter to extort money from him.”
Panic flared in my chest. “Gabriel... if the press gets hold of that—”
“They won't,” Vincent interrupted calmly. “Marco paid Marcus a visit yesterday afternoon.”
I blinked. “What happened?”
“Marcus signed a full, irrevocable surrender of his parental rights,” Vincent explained, opening the folder to show me a legally notarized document bearing Marcus’s shaky signature. “He also signed a non-disclosure agreement. In exchange, I cleared his gambling debts and bought him a one-way ticket to a labor camp in South America.”
I stared at the document, a massive, suffocating weight lifting off my chest that I had carried for three long years.
“He can never touch you or Lily again, Maya,” Vincent promised, his gray eyes locking onto mine with absolute devotion. “Tomorrow, my attorneys are filing the paperwork for me to officially adopt Lily as my daughter.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. I stood up, throwing my arms around his neck, careful of his injured shoulder, and buried my face in his chest.
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“Thank you,” I sobbed happily. “Thank you, Vincent...”
Vincent held me tightly with his right arm, pressing his lips against my temple. “You don't need to thank me, my sweet. You gave me a home when I only had a fortress. You gave my son a mother.”
