Chapter 5 - The Grandfather's Sanctuary
The Calloway Estate in Bedford was a massive stone manor surrounded by three hundred acres of private woodland. It was a place of quiet, timeless dignity—a stark contrast to the hollow, pretentious house I had shared with Daniel in Greenwich.
When our limousine pulled up to the main entrance at eleven o'clock that night, the house was warmly lit.
I stepped through the front doors, my heart beating fast. Standing in the grand foyer was a elderly nanny, holding the hand of a little girl in pink pajamas.
Grace had a small white bandage over her lip, but her eyes were bright and clear. When she saw me, her face lit up.
"Mommy!" she squealed, running across the marble floor as fast as her little legs could carry her.
I dropped to my knees, catching her in my arms, pulling her small body close against my chest. "Oh, sweetie. Are you okay? Have you been good?"
"I had hot chocolate!" Grace announced proudly, pulling back to look at me. "And a big man with grey hair showed me his horses! He said I can have a pony!"
I looked up. Richard had stepped into the foyer behind me. He stood there, the powerful billionaire who had just destroyed an entire company with a single phone call, looking down at the little girl with tears glistening in his dark eyes.
Grace turned her head, looking at Richard. She blinked her large, gray-blue eyes—eyes that were identical to my father's.
"Are you the horse man?" she asked innocently.
Richard dropped down to one knee—a movement that looked awkward for a man of his age and stature, but he did it without hesitation.
"I am," Richard said softly, his voice trembling. "My name is Richard."
Grace looked at his face, then at the framed oil portrait hanging on the wall above the fireplace—a painting of a younger Richard holding a little girl who looked just like Grace.
"Mommy showed me your picture," Grace said, taking a small step toward him. "She said you're my Grandpa."
Richard let out a shaky breath, covering his mouth with his hand for a second to regain his composure. "I am, sweetheart. I'm your Grandpa."
Grace walked right up to him and wrapped her small arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. "Grandpa, can we stay here? The mean lady isn't here."
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Richard wrapped his large arms around her, holding her as if she were the most precious treasure on earth. He looked over her shoulder at me, his eyes filled with a fierce, unbreakable promise.
"No mean people will ever touch you again, my sweet girl," Richard whispered into her hair. "This is your home now."
