Chapter 38
The heavy oak doors of the master suite pushed open, and four-year-old Clara ran into the room. She wore an elegant, pale-blue summer dress, her tiny flats tapping rapidly against the marble. "Daddy! Mommy!" Clara cheered, her rosy cheeks flushed with absolute joy. "Can we go to the garden?" Vincent’s cold, intimidating demeanor melted entirely, replaced by the devoted, fiercely loving father. He scooped Clara into his powerful arms, lifting her high into the air. "Of course, little bird," Vincent laughed, a rich, genuine sound that completely erased the harsh lines of his angular face. The family walked together down the grand staircase and out onto the sprawling, impeccably manicured lawns of the estate. The security perimeter was heavily fortified, patrolled by elite, silent guards who understood the absolute sanctity of the family they protected. Vincent set Clara down, watching her chase a bright yellow butterfly across the grass. He wrapped his arm securely around Evelyn’s waist. The cinematic light cast long, protective shadows over them. He had burned the entire criminal underworld to ashes to reclaim his wife and secure his daughter's future. The monsters were permanently locked outside the gates.
