Chapter 3 - The Weight of Broken Promises
Olivia clutched her small toy car tightly against her chest, her small breaths still catching in her throat.
“Grandpa, let's go home,” she whispered, the words trembling with a heartbreaking amount of premature wisdom.
Stallone looked down at her, feeling a sharp pang of profound guilt pierce straight through his hardened heart.
“We are going home, sweetheart, right now,” Stallone promised, his voice softening completely as he looked into her eyes.
He started toward the grand foyer, but Eleanor's voice cut through the air like a chilling blade of ice.
“If you walk out those doors with her tonight, Stallone, don't ever expect to set foot in this house again.”
Stallone stopped in his tracks, turning his head just enough to let Eleanor see the cold fire in his eyes.
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“I stopped considering this house a home the day you broke every promise you ever made to your children.”
Eleanor’s face twitched at the direct insult, a rare crack appearing in her legendary facade of untouchable control.
