Chapter Seven

Leah

I watch Don leave, my heart hammering loudly in my chest. It's taking everything in me not to cling to him and beg him not to go.

What if he gets hurt?

What if he doesn't come back?

I should have told him I love him. I was going to say the words just before that call came in. I should have said it regardless. He'll be back soon. He promised. I'll tell him then. I'll say the words every day for the rest of my life.

The house feels oddly quiet now, too quiet. I decide to look around since I haven’t really seen much of the place yet. I start in the living area, then walk down the hallway to what I presume to be his study. I push the door open, slowly stepping in. It’s a little messier than I expected—papers strewn across the desk, shelves packed with books. The whole space feels… lived in. I smile to myself and step further inside. Every corner of this place feels like him—his presence, his scent. I let my fingers trail over the smooth surface of the large wooden table, imagining what he looks like seated behind a desk and ruffling through sheets. It's a strange image but not entirely unwelcome.

Something on the wall catches my eyes; a board—pictures pinned up, scribbles everywhere. I move closer, drawn in by the collage of images. My gaze falls on a photo of Don and Natalie with another man. Natalie looked so different there, so happy. It's like I'm looking at an entirely different person. I raise my hand to Don's face, slowly trailing my fingers over the hard angles of his face. Even in a picture, he radiates a dominance that sends exciting thrills coursing through me. I pause at the necklace around Don's neck in the photo, blinking in confusion.

"That's strange…" I mutter to myself, glancing down at the half-moon pendant resting against my chest. It’s the same one. How is that even possible? I lift my hand to touch the pendant, the cool leather against my skin feeling suddenly foreign. There has to be some explanation, but before I can process that, something else draws my attention.

Another photo—this one of my parents.

My breath catches in my throat. And there, next to it, a photo of Harry.

I step closer, my eyes scanning the scribbles beneath the images, trying to piece together the fragments of notes. The words blur for a second as my mind races, but slowly, the puzzle comes together. My hands start to shake as I read the notes suggesting Harry’s involvement in my parents’ deaths… and the other man in the picture who was apparently named Marcus.

My head starts to swim, my insides twisting painfully. What's all of this? Did Harry really kill my dad and mom? Why? I have questions, ones that need urgent answers.

Without thinking twice, I run out of the study to my room, pull on the first pants I find, grab a coat, and hurry outside the house. I order a taxi and thankfully it doesn't take long to arrive. The ride to Harry's estate seems to take forever and I can almost hear my heart hammering in my chest the entire way. By the time the taxi pulls up in front of the painfully familiar mansion, I'm a nervous wreck.

Maybe I should have waited for Don.

It's too late to turn back now, I think to myself as I see my uncle exiting the building with his loyal friend, Kane, The Hound. I hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath before getting out of the taxi. No matter how scared I am of Harry, I refuse to cower this time. All these years, I let him treat me like I didn't exist because I thought he had the right to. But not anymore. He sold whatever right he had over me at that auction.

Clenching my fists at my sides, I storm toward them, keeping my eye fixed on his soulless dark eyes. His gaze is unwavering as he waits for me, a mirthless smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, well…” he drawls slowly when I stop directly in front of him. “Who do we have here? You look better than I expected, one would think Don would be great at keeping you locked up and useful.”

“Were you involved with my parents’ death, Harry?” I ask quietly, searching his face, hoping he'll deny it. As much as I hate him, I guess I still had a little hope that there was some humanity left in him but the fleeting hope falters and his usually stoic expression is all the confirmation I need. My heart drops to my stomach as the realization of the truth dawns on me. “You murdered them, didn't you?”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Harry scoffs, jamming his hands into his pants pocket.

"Why?" I ask with a silent sob. My heart feels like it's being pierced by a thousand knives and it's a miracle I'm still standing straight. "What did Mom and Dad ever do to you?"

He sighs, as if tired of acting oblivious. "Your mom? Nothing," he says with a flat shrug, then scoffs. "She was a pretty little doll, just like you, just unfortunate to have married my brother. Your dad on the other hand… he was standing in the way of my ambitions. The only way I could achieve my dreams was if he died, so I just did what I had to. You can't blame me for that, can you?"

I stagger a bit as my legs threaten to give beneath me. “W-what?”

"Oh, don't look at me like I did such a terrible thing, Leah. I spared your life. That should count for something, at least."

"Did you say you spared my life?" I scoff loudly at the ridiculousness of his words. "You had me locked up in this damn house for thirteen whole years. You had me homeschooled and didn't allow me to make friends. I barely know anything about the world because I’ve been your damn prisoner!" I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to calm the anger bubbling in my veins.

I can't cry not now. I can't let him see me weak anymore.

I open my eyes, meeting his steely gaze with a hard glare, and say calmly, "I won't let this slide, Uncle."

Harry laughs, a condescending sound aimed at mocking me, knocking me down another peg. "I see little Leah is all grown up. What are you going to do about it? Huh? It's my word against yours, little girl. No one's going to believe you." He leans in, his voice lowering to a cruel whisper. "Why do you think I kept you hidden all these years? So, the world has no memory of you. You're a nobody. No one is coming to save you."

His words hit me like a physical blow. Maybe because they're so true.

“I'll do the best I can,” I say through gritted teeth, stepping closer to him. “I’ll write to every damn media house across the country and even grant interviews. I might not be able to bring you to justice, but I'll at least ruin your chances of becoming mayor.”

Fury clouds his face and for a moment I thought he'd hit me. But he quickly regains control, his expression morphing into an impassive mask. He shakes his head, clicking his tongue at me. "Oh, Leah… You shouldn't have come here if you were going to do that." He glances down at his watch and then back at me with that mirthless smirk that never fails to send a shiver down my spine. "Too bad I can't stay and chat for much longer." His cold eyes flick to Kane. "Take care of my niece, will you?"

“Yes, boss,” Kane says with a jerky nod.

And without another glance at me, Harry gets into his car and zooms off. Kane starts to approach me, his strides slow but steady. The meaning of Harry's parting instruction suddenly dawns on me. I stumble backward, shaking my head slowly. "Kane, please don't…"

Kane's fingers tighten like a vice around my arm, yanking me towards the back of the mansion. I let out a scream, partly from the pain of his grip but mostly from fear. I try to fight, but it's useless. Kane is much stronger than me and very determined to please his boss.

Is this the end for me?

Suddenly, a thunderous roar splits the air. I whip my head towards the sound just as Don’s monstrous motorcycle screeches to a halt. Relief and gratitude flood through me as I watch him climb off the bike. In an instant, he's upon us.

“Let her fucking go!” He booms, and I can feel the unrestrained fury in his voice.

Kane barely has time to react before Don is on him, grabbing him by the collar. He jerks him so hard that Kane loses his balance and stumbles back. Don's fist follows immediately after, slamming into Kane's jaw with a sickening crack. The force of the blow sends Kane reeling. He attempts to get a punch in, but Don is faster. He dodges it, ramming his knee into Kane's groin. Kane lets out an agonized cry, his face twists in pain and he doubles over. Before Kane can recover, Don throws another punch, this time to Kane's gut. I watch in shock as Don moves like a predator, methodical and unrelenting. He kicks Kane's legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. Kane tries to push himself up, but Don is already there, his boot smashing down on Kane's chest, pinning him to the dirt. Kane wheezes, struggling, too weak to do anything now. Don pulls out his gun with a swift, practiced motion and points it directly at Kane's face, his finger hovering over the trigger. My heart lurches into my throat.

"Don, no!" I rush forward, throwing myself between them. My hands tremble as I press against Don's chest, my eyes wide. "Please. I'm okay. You don't have to do this."

His eyes, wild with fury, flicker between Kane and me. His breathing is ragged, the grip on the gun tight and unyielding. For a moment, I think he'll ignore me, but then his expression softens, if only slightly. He lowers the gun, though his hand still trembles with barely restrained rage. He turns to me, his face hard, but there's something in his eyes, fear, worry. Relief. He raises his hand to my face, his calloused fingers cupping my cheeks as if to reassure himself that I'm really here, really okay. Then he lets out a long, shaky breath, relief flooding his features.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, Leah” he mutters, his voice low and rough as he pulls me into a hard embrace. His arms lock around me like steel, pressing me against his hard body. “Do you know how worried I was when I got home and you weren’t there?”

I rest my head against his chest, the rapid beat of his heart echoing in my ear. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I-I saw the board in your study and…” I let my voice trail off with a guilty sigh. “I wasn't thinking.”

Don pulls back slightly, his brow furrowed, his gaze searching my face. “It's alright, love. I'm glad you're safe.”

“How did you find me?” I ask, realizing he must have followed me here somehow.

His lips twitch in a faint humorless smirk. “I put a tracker on your phone. Didn’t trust Harry not to pull something like this.” His hand strokes my cheek again. “Good thing I did.”

I nod, grateful beyond words. “Thank you… for always saving me.”

A shadow crosses his face, and I know he’s thinking about what almost happened to me. “Leah,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my lips, “you shouldn’t have come here alone. You don't know what that man is capable of.”

“H-he killed my parents,” I whisper, tears blurring my vision. “Why? Why would he do that?”

Don's expression darkens, and he glances away, jaw clenched. "Because he's a greedy bastard," he says after a while, his voice sounding far away. "Thirteen years ago, your dad's construction company landed a huge government contract. Marcus, my best friend, was working with him as a subcontractor. Everything was set to be a major success." He pauses, his grip on my arms tightening as if bracing me for the impact of what comes next. "Then… your parents got into that accident. The one that took their lives. With your dad gone, Harry stepped in to complete the project. But when it came time to pay Marcus for his part, Harry refused. He claimed he hadn't signed any official contract with Marcus, leaving him high and dry."

I swallow hard, my tears falling more freely now. "But Marcus wasn't just any businessman," Don continues. "He had a history. Although a businessman, he was in a gang. He couldn't take Harry to court without exposing his past shady deals. And with that, his business crashed. He lost everything." The pain in Don's voice is palpable, and it cuts deep. I can't imagine what it must've been like for him to see his friend go through that, knowing there was nothing he could do. "Last year, Marcus found proof—evidence that Harry was behind the accident that killed your parents. He confronted Harry, ready to take him down. But Harry… he couldn't risk it. So, he had Marcus killed too. Made it look like just another gang war."

A sob escapes my lips, the truth like a jagged knife in my chest. I can't believe I'm related to a man like Harry; a man who caused me and Don so much pain. I can't breathe.

Don reaches up, his thumb gently brushing the tears from my cheeks. “Don’t cry, sunshine,” he whispers. “I won’t let him hurt you again. I’m going to make sure he never bothers you, Leah. Never.”

I believe him. In that moment, as his eyes bore into mine, I believe every word. Don isn’t just anyone. He’s my guardian angel, and I know he will do whatever it takes to protect me.

I glance down, my hand reaching up to touch the half-moon pendant hanging around my neck. “The other man in the picture…” I hesitate, slightly clearing my throat. “That was Marcus, wasn’t it?”

Don’s gaze softens. He nods. “Yeah. He was my best friend. And… Natalie’s husband. She’s never really gotten over him.”

Now I understand the seemingly permanent sadness in Natalie's beautiful brown eyes. My chest tightens with sympathy. For her. For me. For Don… “I’m so sorry, Don,” I whisper. “About Marcus. About everything.”

Don doesn't say anything for a while, but his hand drifts to the pendant around my neck. His thumb grazes it lightly before meeting my eyes again. "You don't know how happy it makes me that you had this on the whole time."

“It's yours, isn't it?” I ask, searching his face,

He smiles, a small, almost shy curve of his lips. “Yeah, it is.”

"B- but how? I don't understand. I- I found it…" I trail off as Don lets out a chuckle.

He pulls me closer, his hand still tracing the outline of the pendant. "Last year, I came to Harry's place for business. I saw you playing the piano, and… I don't know. Something about you… I couldn't get you out of my head. After you left, I put the necklace on the piano. I wanted to leave something of me with you." I blink at him, pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place. The music box, the strange familiarity, the way I've always felt safe with him… it's because, somehow, he's always been a part of my life.

“I'm glad you found it,” Don adds softly, raising his eyes to mine, a sensuous smile spreading across his lips. "And I'm even happier that you wear it."

I stare at him, helplessly enraptured in the magic of his exquisite blue eyes. "Have you liked me since then?" I whisper, searching his face.

“No, sunshine. I've loved you since then,” Don says, tenderly kissing my forehead.

"I love you too," I say, chuckling despite the tears spilling down my eyes. "So much."

His face lights up with a mischievous smile, and before I know what's happening, he scoops me into his arms, carrying me bridal style. "What are you doing?" I ask with a surprise laugh.

He grins down at me. “I’m taking you home.”

Home. The word sounds so good, so right.

“But what about Kane?” I ask, glancing at the unconscious man still lying on the ground.

Don looks over at him, his expression hardening for a moment before softening again as he gazes back at me. “Rick’s on his way with the cops. Don’t worry about it.”

I nod, burying my head in his neck. “I love you, Don,” I whisper against his skin.

His arms tighten around me, holding me impossibly closer. “I love you too, my sunshine.”