Chapter 204

The moment Dominic Blackwood spotted Evelyn Thorne approaching, his breath caught in his throat. "Hello, Clara," he greeted her mother instead, his voice carefully neutral.

Clara Thorne's expression turned glacial. "Did Evelyn invite you here?"

Dominic's jaw tightened. "No."

"Then why are you trespassing?" Clara's words were razor-sharp. "The divorce was finalized years ago. Stop disrupting our peace."

Mooncrest Manor's wrought-iron gates stood firmly closed between them. Dominic's gaze flickered from the barrier to Clara's unyielding face. He took a measured step back. "My apologies for the intrusion."

As he turned to leave, movement caught his eye—a flash of pink behind the hydrangeas. A small figure crouched there, watching.

Lily.

His chest constricted. He ached to sweep his daughter into his arms, but not like this. Not when he'd become an unwelcome specter in their lives.

The moment Dominic's car disappeared down Hawthorne Avenue, Lily burst from the bushes.

"Grandma! Why did Daddy leave?"

Clara grasped the child's sticky hand, leading her toward the villa. "How do you know that man was your father?"

"Because Mommy keeps his pictures in a locked box!" Lily kicked a pebble, her lower lip trembling. "Henry says we'll never have a real dad now. Just stupid stepdaddies who'll make us eat broccoli."

Clara stifled a laugh. "Your mother's still young, sweetheart. The right man will—"

"Noooo!" Lily wailed dramatically. "Henry and I voted! No stepdaddies ever! Not even if they bring ponies!"

Inside Thornfield Industries' rebuilt headquarters, Evelyn Thorne adjusted her emerald-green blazer. The celebratory dinner for her company's relaunch had stretched late into the evening.

She slipped away from the banquet hall, only to freeze at the sight awaiting her in the parking lot—Clara clutching Henry's hand while Lily attempted to scale a lamppost.

"Mom? What are you—"

"Someone demanded an emergency mommy inspection," Clara said dryly as Lily launched herself at Evelyn.

Evelyn caught her daughter mid-leap. "You little spy! Did Henry put you up to this?"

The boy shook his head solemnly. "Uncle Nathan showed me the drone prototypes. They have laser targeting now."

Evelyn's stomach dropped. "Nathan Cross was here?"

Clara's grip tightened on her purse. "Not him. The other one."

A block away, Dominic stood shrouded in shadows, his knuckles white around his car keys. The scene before him—Evelyn laughing as Lily tugged her hair, Henry demonstrating some elaborate handshake with Clara—was a life that should have been his.

"Sir?" Nathan murmured. "The girl looks just like you at that age."

Dominic's throat worked. "It doesn't matter. The past is dead."

"But if you just—"

"Enough." Dominic's voice cracked like ice. "We're here for one purpose—get close to Nathan Mercer. Not to reopen old wounds."

As Evelyn's car pulled away, Dominic remained motionless, the streetlight carving his profile into sharp relief. Some distances couldn't be measured in miles. Some doors, once closed, could never be reopened.

Not even for love.