"Stop here," Damian instructed, gesturing toward the narrow driveway as Val slowed the car. She had texted earlier, offering to drive him to the Carters.

"Is this where Chloe grew up? It's charming," Val observed, her eyes drifting over the white picket fence and the tidy flowerbeds—a world apart from the palatial estate he'd left behind.

"I visit whenever I can," Damian replied, gripping his dark gray backpack.

He missed his wife.

The moments they had.

The aroma of her coconut-scented shampoo as she nestled into his chest, watching a Netflix film. The secure feel of her arms around his waist while riding his Ducati around the countryside. Her raven hair splayed on the silky sheets in their special room. Being inside her, loving her.

"Hey." Val gently tapped his arm. "You'll see Chloe soon. I miss the heck out of her, too."

"Sure," he mumbled, swinging the door open to hop out. He rarely spoke of memories and feelings, even with those closest to him.

"You're safe at Grandma and Grandpa Carter's house," he whispered as he unbuckled Dawn's seatbelt and retrieved the threadbare stuffed bunny from her hand. She barely stirred when he lifted her against his chest. Her soft, rhythmic breaths brought him quiet solace.

"Message me for a ride. I'll take you to Angelo," Val said, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. "He wants to speak with you before we head to the airport tonight."

Damian nodded, inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass. He adjusted Dawn's weight before making his way to the front door.

It swung open before he could knock.

"I heard your car pu—Damian?" Glenn blinked in shock, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge.

He stared hard at the dark hair, brown eyes, hoodie, and faded jeans. His expression softened when he noticed Dawn's head flopped on the man's shoulder.

Damian offered a tight smile. "Sorry for the shock—long story. Where's Ida?"

"She's resting in the living room. Had a rough morning," Glenn replied, stepping aside and glancing at Dawn. "Your girl's a heavy sleeper."

Damian gave a wry smile. "She didn't sleep well last night."

He walked into the room, feeling the familiar warmth: pale-yellow walls adorned with family photos, a cozy sofa stacked with crocheted blankets, and the soft scent of lemon incense sticks.

Ida rested in an armchair by the window, her face swollen beneath a shoulder-length wig. Her penciled eyebrows raised when she glanced up at Damian. Noticing Dawn, her face relaxed. "Oh my goodness, I didn't recognize you."

Damian bent to press a light kiss on Ida's cheek. "I'll explain everything soon. But first, I need to put Dawn to bed."

"Take her to Chloe's old room, dear," Ida said. "The bed's all made up for her. Your PA just called—she'll drop off Dawn's clothes later this afternoon."

Carrying Dawn, Damian walked down a narrow hallway lined with framed photos of Chloe's childhood—one of her playing the violin, another of her beaming proudly in a soccer jersey.

He swallowed hard, remembering how unstoppable Chloe was. She was ambitious, wanting to pass financial management, a subject she struggled with in college. She passed with flying colors after he tutored her, and they celebrated with a bowling and dinner date.

He gently laid Dawn on the small bed, tucking a soft blanket around her. He brushed a tender hand through her curls before returning to the living room.

"You've become thin. Here, I've prepared your favorite treats," Ida urged, gesturing towards a recliner chair beside a table laden with a steaming mug of coffee and a bowl of sugar-dusted strawberries and macadamia cookies.

"You've been quite occupied," Glenn remarked, nodding at Damian's new look. He poured tea for Ida and settled beside her on their bottle-green sofa.

Damian sank into his chair, popping a strawberry into his mouth and savoring the sweet tang. "Thanks for taking Dawn on short notice. I know she's in good hands."

"Well, you deserve a month-long vacation. We're glad you called because we love having her with us," Ida said.

Damian nodded. "I've sent Glenn the nanny's contact details—she'll be here daily to help with anything you need. Daycare pickups, drop-offs, say the word."

Ida sipped her tea, her wig sitting slightly askew on her head. The sight tugged at something deep inside Damian. She had been through so much—first Chloe's disappearance, then her battle with cancer. Her once-auburn hair was gone, replaced by synthetic strands.

"How's the treatment going?" Damian asked, setting his plate down.

Ida brushed a trembling hand over her wig. "Better now that we've got a good routine. My caregiver is wonderful, and the doctor's visits are reassuring."

"Let me know if you need anything else. You'll make a full recovery. I've got faith," Damian assured with a smile.

"I appreciate everything you've done for us," Ida said, her voice filled with gratitude and sorrow. "You've given me all these months of care, but you're under no obligation. My cancer treatments are expensive, and I can't take advantage of your generosity."

He waved a dismissive hand, shaking his head. "Don't think about the costs. We're family. The Scotts and the Carters."

Ida's eyes misted over, but she quickly blinked the tears away. "Chloe was lucky to have you."

Glenn patted Ida's knee, his eyes focused on Damian. "Chloe would want you to move on. She always said life's too short for regrets."

A wave of anger and sorrow clashed within Damian's chest. "Glenn," he began, voice hoarse, "I can't just move on. Not when there's a chance—" He broke off, glancing from Ida to Glenn. "I need you both to sit down and hear this."

Glenn set his teacup on a wooden side table, his brow furrowing. "Son, what is it?"

Damian moved closer to the couple, clasping Ida's shaky fingers. "What I'm about to tell you will change everything."

***

Minutes later, Glenn's voice broke through his quiet sobs. "It's hard to believe our daughter... she's alive. You're really going to find her?"

"No matter the cost," Damian vowed, leaning in.

Ida shut her eyes, tears streaming down her face. "It's a miracle," she whispered, then hesitated. "But what about the remains—that missing fingertip?"

"Some other victim. Another woman Marino used and discarded," Damian explained.

"So you're going off the grid for Chloe and presumably punish Marino for it?" Glenn asked.

Damian's jaw clenched. "I'd give my right arm to have Chloe here with you. And yes, Marino will learn that he's crossed the line."

Ida's watery gaze flicked to him. "Be careful, please. Marino isn't some petty thief."

"I have resources—official and otherwise—and I'm working with an undercover agent," Damian assured.

Glenn adjusted his glasses. "We know about your mother's past. But be honest—how well do you know Mike? You're a nice guy. Can you handle him?"

Nice guy?

Damian thought of the version of himself they didn't know—the ruthless man who inherited more of his mother's traits than he cared to admit. He was a family man to them, not someone who carried darkness in his veins. Not someone who had killed with pleasure. Not just once. Or twice. They didn't need to see the devil lurking beneath.

A half-smile curved his mouth. "I know Marino better than you think."

Ida's eyebrows knitted together, the wrinkles on her forehead visible. "When you find my daughter, she might not be the same. God knows what horrors she's faced."

Damian's throat constricted. "Whatever trauma she carries, I'll stand by her. I'll bring in any help she needs—a therapist, doctors, the best specialists. I'll do whatever it takes to help her heal. Whatever demons haunt her, I'll face them with her. If she needs to cry, she'll have my shoulder. If she needs to scream, I'll listen."

Tears welled in Ida's eyes again. "And what about her future? Her friends, the relentless media—how will you shield her?"

Damian allowed a small, resolute smile. "My PA will handle logistics, and our media team will control the narrative. There will be attention, but my family will shield Chloe from its worst."

Glenn cradled Ida's head, his voice softening. "Chloe's a fighter. She always has been, and with you, she'll have the best chance at recovery."

Damian dipped his head. "I'm hoping for the best."

Ida sipped her tea, then set her cup down, her cheeks flushing a little. "I don't want to embarrass you, but the media hasn't been kind to you lately. If Chloe doesn't know about... well, everything, will you tell her?"

Glenn coughed, then cleared his throat. "My wife means the photos. The women. The, uh, extracurricular activities. You made some questionable choices."

Damian swallowed, guilt burning in his gut. He looked away. "I made mistakes, and I'm no saint. But she deserves the truth. I'll tell her everything when she's ready." He breathed out a shaky sigh. "I'll accept the consequences."

Ida reached for a tissue, sniffling when she pleaded, "Bring her home for me."

***

After a late lunch—or was it early dinner?—of hearty beef stew with the Carters in their linoleum kitchen, the family retreated to the living room. Damian's gaze drifted to a pale blue photo album with fraying edges on the coffee table.

Glenn caught his eye and slid the album across. "My wife and I were reminiscing about memories of Chloe—back when things were simpler. Feel free to have a look."

Damian lifted the cover, flipping through the images. A tiny girl taking her first steps at ten months. Blowing bubbles in a plastic backyard pool. Day one of first grade with a Snow White backpack.

Then, there it was.

The very snapshot that made his chest lurch.

The little girl with almond-shaped eyes and playful black pigtails. Her smiling face glittering in pink and gold. That faded checkered dress. That face-painting booth.

"You were at Disneyland," he murmured, studying the photo.

Ida's eyes shone with nostalgic pride. "She'd been begging for that trip for months. We squeezed it in on her ninth birthday. It wasn't lavish, but it was perfect."

Damian's voice grew curious. "Do you recall a blond boy near the booth?"

Glenn frowned, searching his memory. "Yes—a boy a little taller than Chloe. He handed over twenty dollars so she could get the sparkles on her face. Thoughtful kid."

Ida's stare fixed on Damian. "And why do you ask?"

He crossed one leg over the other and pressed his palm against his knee. "Because that boy was me."

A stunned silence fell. Glenn's eyebrows shot up, and Ida's lips trembled in disbelief. "It was you?"

"I'd wandered from my mother and found your daughter at the booth. Something about her was pure magic. I couldn't leave without seeing her smile."

A hush fell, this time brimming with an unspoken wonder. Glenn's eyes misted, and Ida's lips parted in disbelief.

Damian felt the sting of tears behind his lids. "I guess fate tried bringing us together once before."

Ida let out a trembling breath. "And it succeeded, didn't it?" Her watery smile rekindled hope in the dimness of her gaze.

Damian's laugh was soft and bittersweet. "It's kismet."

***

That night, after meeting with Angelo, Damian reflected on his past as Val drove him to meet Chase. He couldn't shake thoughts of Chloe—or the sense that every moment, every breath, led him closer to bringing her home.

He remembered meeting Chloe at a Halloween party in college—he only attended because Theo pleaded with him in the locker room after their volleyball match. "Listen, man, Lisa's coming and bringing her friend, Chloe. Keep her company so I can make my move on Lisa."

Damian had scoffed as he whipped his towel at Theo. "She'd better be worth my time, or you owe me big."

Theo smirked. "Relax. You won't regret it."

Damian had heard lines like that before. But at the party, one glance at the dark-haired beauty in a form-fitting catsuit knocked the wind out of him. Her eyes sparkled with an unbridled thrill, and unlike other girls, she didn't need to try to get his attention—she was magnetic.

Beguiling.

He felt her gaze linger as if daring him to admit their undeniable pull. The connection wasn't just attraction—it was something deeper, like destiny setting a trap for him. He swore he'd never feel anything like it again.

And he hadn't.

Now, years later, that spark had grown into a wildfire raging inside him. Fate wasn't tossing Chloe into his arms at a crowded party this time—he had to fight for her.

"Lost in thought again?" Val asked as she slowed the car onto a gravel lot marked "County Airfield."

Damian offered no reply, his eyes fixed on the darkness outside.

Val persisted, "So, what did you and Angelo talk about?"

"It's private—nothing for you to worry about," he replied, his stare unbroken by the window's view.

Val squeezed his hand. "Everything's going to be fine, Dami."

When the car rolled to a stop, Damian pushed open the door, a single backpack slung over his shoulder. He waved at Val, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.

"I'll see you soon."

"You'd better," she fired back, wiggling her fingers in a playful goodbye.

He strode toward the solitary hangar, the waiting jet's low hum and the overhead lights' glare guiding him like a beacon. Chase stepped forward with a lazy smile and hands in his pockets. Beside him, Sofia scanned the tarmac, her hawk-like eyes sweeping for potential threats.

One step closer to Chloe.

One step closer to shattering the criminal empire his mother built—brick by corrupt brick.

***

A/N: What do you think Angelo and Damian talked about? (more to come in the next chapter)

If you see typos in this chapter, one of my fur babies may have pawed my keyboard to get my attention. Here's a photo of the culprit: