Chapter 8 - The Reunion
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The moment the SUV came to a halt in the circular driveway, the front doors of the mansion flew open.
Hannah didn't wait for Marcus to open her door. She scrambled out of the vehicle, the oversized coat slipping off her shoulders.
Standing in the grand foyer, still wearing her yellow duck pajamas and clutching the stuffed rabbit, was Poppy. The young guard, Teddy, was standing right behind her, looking immensely relieved.
“Mama!” Poppy shrieked, her voice echoing off the marble walls.
“Poppy!” Hannah sobbed, dropping to her knees on the cold floor.
The toddler ran across the foyer as fast as her little legs could carry her, launching herself into Hannah’s arms. Hannah crushed her daughter against her chest, burying her face in Poppy’s damp curls, weeping with absolute, pure joy. She breathed in the scent of baby shampoo, feeling the small, steady heartbeat against her own.
Victor walked into the foyer, stopping a few feet away. He watched the mother and daughter reunite, his chest tightening with an emotion he had buried deeply for twelve years.
He remembered standing in a hospital hallway, begging for a miracle that never came. He remembered the agonizing, hollow silence of a house that had lost its child.
But tonight, a mother came home.
Poppy pulled back from her mother’s embrace and looked up. She spotted Victor standing in the shadows.
The little girl didn't hesitate. She waddled over to the terrifying mafia boss, completely ignoring the armed guards surrounding him. She grabbed his wet pant leg and looked up at him with enormous, grateful eyes.
“You promised,” Poppy stated seriously. “And you fixed it.”
Victor knelt down, completely uncaring that his expensive slacks were soaking up the rainwater from the marble floor. He looked at the tiny girl, a genuine, soft smile finally breaking through his hardened exterior.
“I always keep my promises to you, little bird,” Victor whispered.
He reached out and gently patted the head of her stuffed rabbit.
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Hannah watched the exchange, her breath hitching. The ruthless king of the underworld, the man who had just executed a traitor without a second thought, was kneeling on the floor to comfort her child.
The line between boss and maid was completely, irreversibly erased.
