He Called Her a Traitor and Threw Her Out Into the Storm — Then Learned the Quiet Woman He Lost Was Born to a Mafia Dynasty.
PART 12
Odalys learned of his progress through Marcus, who sent brief updates only when invited.
Everett purchased a townhouse with a private courtyard. Odalys returned to art appraisal under her real name and began recovering cultural pieces stolen during the coup that destroyed her family.
At six months, she agreed to meet Weston in a public botanical garden.
He arrived without guards. That alone told her he had listened.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“You look nervous.”
“I am.”
For several moments, neither spoke. Then the baby moved.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes. Your daughter dislikes silence.”
His eyes lifted sharply. “A daughter?”
Odalys nodded. Emotion transformed his face.
“May I know her name?”
“I have not chosen it.”
“May I suggest one someday?”
“Someday.”
It was not permission, but it was not rejection.
“I brought something.” He placed a thin folder on the table — audited reports detailing the conversion of Kade businesses, the closure of predatory operations, and signed agreements creating a foundation for families displaced by organized violence.
“You did this quickly.”
“I should have done it years ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because power made me comfortable, and comfort made cruelty easy to ignore.”
“That is an unusually honest answer.”
“I am trying to become an unusually honest man.”
A faint smile touched her mouth.
“May I ask you something?” he said. “Did any part of what we had feel real to you?”
“All of it was real. That is why what happened hurt so much.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss who I believed we were.”
“Could we become something different?”
“Perhaps.”
The word was fragile. Weston treated it as sacred.
When Odalys stood to leave, a sudden cramp tightened her abdomen. She caught the edge of the table.
“What do you need?”
“Your arm.”
He offered it. She steadied herself against him until the pain passed. Her hand lingered for one heartbeat longer than necessary.