Chapter 12
My father set the flowers on the side table, stepping over to the bassinet with immense reverence.
He looked down at his grandson, his hardened features softening into pure, grandfatherly warmth.
“He has your mother’s nose,” Vincent murmured softly, gently touching Leo’s tiny hand with his pinky finger.
“Thank you, Dad,” I whispered, looking at him with immense gratitude. “You saved us.”
Vincent walked over to my bedside, gently sitting on the edge of the mattress and taking my good hand.
“I failed you for twenty-five years, Lena,” Vincent said, his voice thick with heavy, old sorrow.
“I let your mother take you away because I believed my world was too bloody for an innocent child.”
“I thought keeping my distance kept you safe.”
“I was wrong.”
“A father’s job is not to hide from his child, but to destroy anything that dares to threaten her.”
May you like
He looked down at my casted arm, his dark eyes hardening back into solid obsidian ice.
“What... what did you do to Ethan?” I asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer yet needing to know.
