Page 52 of Righteous Enforcer
My daughter's eyes are wide with wonder, her tiny finger pointing at colorful illustrations.
"And the fairy queen waved her magic wand." He makes a swooping gesture with his hand, earning a giggle from Mirabella.
I press my palm against the doorframe, struck by the beautiful moment.
This is everything I'd dreamed of during those lonely nights. Mirabella knowing her father, being loved by him.
Adriano looks up, catching me watching.
For a heartbeat, his mask slips, revealing something tender before hardening again.
Those gray eyes that once looked at me with adoration now hold caution, suspicion.
I step into the room, and Mirabella's face lights up. "Mama! Daddy's reading about fairies that live in flowers!"
"Is he now?" I wouldn’t say my smile is forced, because it thrills me to see her so happy.
But I do have to help it along as I fear what Adriano might do now that he has her.
He doesn’t trust me.
Will he toss me out and keep her?
Will he kill me?
Adriano's gaze never leaves my face as Mirabella scrambles off his lap and runs to me.
"Did you have fun with Daddy?" I lift her into my arms, needing to feel her against me.
She nods enthusiastically. "He promised real fairy lights for my room."
"That sounds beautiful." I meet Adriano's eyes over her head.
For three years, I've dreamed of a place where Mirabella and I could live without looking over our shoulders.
I've sacrificed everything for that dream.
But watching them together, I see the missing piece I couldn’t provide.
A father's love.
Protection that doesn't require constant running.
"We can finish the story together," Adriano offers, his voice neutral though his eyes hold suspicions.
I settle beside them, Mirabella between us, and feel my heart splitting in two directions.
One yearning for escape, the other longing to stay, to rebuild what was broken, to let my daughter have this man who already loves her fiercely.
The truth is inescapable. I can't tear them apart now. Not when she's found what I've denied her for so long.
He continues to read until Mirabella’s eyes flutter closed.
“She needs her nap,” I say quietly.
He gently lifts our daughter. Mirabella's head droops against his shoulder. "I'll take her up.”
I follow them upstairs, keeping a step behind.
