Chapter 14
Gavin was standing near the back, looking older now but filled with immense pride. Standing right beside him was my five-year-old daughter dressed in a dark blue velvet outfit.
Maya ran toward me with a big smile.
I scooped her up into my arms and held her close, feeling her warmth and gentle energy.
Patrick was nothing more than a distant ghost to us now. My security team provided brief updates on his status occasionally, though I rarely bothered to read them. He had been denied parole again recently and was serving out his sentence in a federal facility, forgotten by everyone he used to know.
His memory had lost all power to scare me.
Late that evening, back in our private suite, I tucked Maya into her comfortable bed.
She looked up at me with bright blue eyes.
“Mommy,” she whispered while holding her favorite toy. “A girl at school said everyone has a dad. She asked what my dad does for work. Where is my dad?”
Years ago, a question like that would have broken my heart completely.
Now, I felt only calm inner strength.
“Some people are just temporary stepping stones, sweetie,” I explained gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “They exist to teach us how to cross difficult paths without getting stuck in the mud.”
I kissed her forehead tenderly.
“You do not need a father, my sweet girl. You have an empire, and you have a mother who would break the world apart before letting anyone tell you that you are nothing.”
Maya smiled sleepily and closed her eyes to rest.
I switched off the bedside light and stepped quietly into the hallway.
My encrypted phone vibrated silently in my pocket.
A high-priority text message from Julian appeared on the display screen:
Target located in Zurich. The old documents regarding your mother’s disappearance were found inside the vault, just as you suspected. Gavin lied to you.
I stared at the glowing text in the quiet corridor.
The mother inside me remained perfectly calm.
The corporate leader inside me fully awoke.
A complex new game was beginning in the shadows.
Except this time, I was not a helpless victim waiting to be rescued.
I was Serena Rochester.
And I was the one controlling every move on the board.
THE END.
— END OF CHAPTER 11 — THE END OF DURING MY DIVORCE HEARING, THE JUDGE RULED THAT I WOULD LEAVE THE COURTROOM WITH NOTHING. MY HUSBAND STOOD BESIDE HIS MISTRESS WEARING A SMUG EXPRESSION THAT MADE IT OBVIOUS HE THOUGHT HE HAD ALREADY WON. “WE’LL SEE HOW YOU AND THAT BABY SURVIVE WITHOUT ME,” HE SNEERED.