Chapter 2 - The Shadows of the Past
The Blackwood estate was a fortress of limestone, iron gates, and high security. To the outside world, it was an intimidating mansion on the Gold Coast. To Lily, it was a home filled with vast hallways, secret reading nooks, and a massive indoor playroom. To Emma, stepping inside for the first time, it looked like a palace from a fairy tale she never believed she’d enter.
Within twenty minutes of our arrival, our private family physician, Dr. Evans, emerged from the guest suite on the second floor.
I was standing in the hallway, a glass of scotch untouched in my hand, staring out the arched window into the dark gardens.
“How is she, Doctor?” I asked, turning around sharply.
“She’s severely malnourished, Mr. Blackwell,” Dr. Evans said, adjusting his glasses with a grim expression. “She has early-stage pneumonia from exposure to the cold, and the bruising on her arms suggests physical abuse over a prolonged period. Whoever was caring for her... they weren't caring for her at all.”
My grip on the crystal glass tightened until my knuckles turned white. “Find out where she was living. Every address, every school record, every doctor’s visit. I want a complete dossier on this ‘Aunt Karen’ by midnight.”
“Already on it,” Victor chimed in from the shadows of the corridor. “My men are pulling her financial and residential records now. She skipped town three days ago, leaving the apartment empty. It looks like she knew the social services audit was coming.”
“She didn't just abandon a child,” I growled, the dark, lethal edge of my reputation bleeding into my tone. “She abandoned a Blackwell.”
I walked into the guest room. Emma was propped up against a mountain of plush pillows, wearing a brand-new silk nightgown that swallowed her small frame. Lily sat cross-legged on the edge of the mattress, meticulously brushing the hair of a porcelain doll, while Emma clutched her battered, taped-up teddy bear like a shield.
When I entered, Emma shrank back slightly, her green eyes wide with uncertainty.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” I said softly, sitting on the armchair near the bed. I kept my posture relaxed, unthreatening—a stark contrast to the boardroom tyrant I usually played. “This is your home now, Emma. Just like Lily’s. No one is ever going to hurt you or leave you alone.”
Emma blinked, a tear tracing a clean path down her pale cheek. “My mom said my dad didn’t want us. She said he left before I was born.”
My chest tightened as if squeezed by a steel vice. Claire had lied to her. Or perhaps Claire had believed it, having fled my world years ago to protect herself from the violence that followed my rise in the Syndicate.
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“Your mom was wrong, sweetheart,” I said, my voice thick with emotion I hadn't felt in seven years. “Your father didn't know you existed. But now that I do... nothing in this world will ever take you away from me.”
Lily beamed, crawling over to wrap her arms around Emma’s neck. “See? I told you he’s nice.”
