Page 93 of Inheritance

I reached the door, hesitated with my hand on the handle. Her voice played in my mind: weak from breathlessness, calm from trust. The way she’d looked up at me right before I left—unguarded. Like I’d given her something solid to lean on and she believed I wouldn’t move.

I opened the door.

She was still there, exactly as I left her. One leg crossed over the other. Her posture relaxed, but not casual. Reading, focused.

She was whole, despite everything.

I’d come in ready to brief her. Prepared to tell her I needed her. I did, but not for this. As I stood there, all I could see was that terrified, cracked look she had after she killed a man. I was scared back then, in that moment, a feeling I hadn’t felt since Logan died in my arms and all I could do was watch.

She glanced up and smiled—calm, present, as if there wasn’t an ounce of guilt or regret in her.

I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t risk breaking her. How had I even thought for a second that sending her to the fucking address in an assassin’s pocket was a good idea?

I shook my head slightly without realizing it.

Am I already becoming my father?

No. I just see her capability.

I could never risk her getting hurt again. I couldn’t risk her becoming like me.

Nothing bad would ever happen to her again.

I crossed the room slowly, careful not to break the quiet. She didn’t speak. Didn’t sense anything off. She just looked up. Calm. Bright. Expectant.

"That was fast," she said, eyebrow lifting.

“Would have been faster if I hadn’t made you stop a dozen times,” I said casually.

I leaned against the edge of the desk as she rolled her eyes, but she liked the bad joke. The diversion meant to keep her from reading me.

She picked up her pen and kept writing, unaware of how close I’d come to throwing her back into the fire.

“So how did the meeting go?”

“Just a quick meeting to touch base. Making sure everything’s in order.”

“Mmm.” She hummed, already moving on.

She looked just like she had at that desk in her quiet little town.

“Let’s go out,” I said.

She looked up. “What do we need to do?”

I couldn’t help but smile at her. “We need to go on a date.”

She blinked, then beamed.

“Where are we going?” she asked with a cute excitement I hadn’t seen in forever.

The ring in my pocket felt like it was burning my leg, itching to come out.

“It’ll be a surprise,” I said, offering her my hand.