Chapter 4 - The Fortress on the Sound
Twenty minutes later, we were inside Daniel's private SUV, heading north along the winding coastal highway toward Bainbridge Island.
I had agreed to leave the café only because Marcus Vance’s presence proved that Victoria Ashford was tracking Daniel’s movements. I refused to let my daughters become leverage in a high-stakes corporate civil war.
In the back seat, Lily and Grace were fast asleep in brand-new luxury car seats Daniel’s security detail had procured within ten minutes.
Daniel sat beside me in the passenger cabin, his eyes fixed on the rain-soaked evergreens lining the road.
"Where are you taking us, Daniel?" I asked, keeping my hands warm inside my coat pockets.
"My grandfather bought an oceanfront retreat on the Sound forty years ago," Daniel answered, turning to look at me with raw, humbled eyes. "It’s completely disconnected from Ashford Global’s corporate asset registry. My mother doesn't even know the deed exists."
"I have a life in Seattle, Daniel," I stated firmly. "I run a small landscape architecture studio near Capitol Hill. I have clients, nursery deliveries, and rent to pay."
"You don't have to pay rent ever again, Elena," Daniel said softly, reaching out to gently touch my fingers before pulling back when he saw the hesitation in my eyes. "I will buy your studio. I will buy the entire block. Whatever you need to feel safe."
"I don't want your money," I countered, looking out at the gray waters of Puget Sound. "I wanted your loyalty two years ago, and you didn't have enough of it to spare."
Daniel bowed his head, taking the hit with silent, agonizing acceptance.
"I know," he murmured, his voice thick with unhealed wounds. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, Elena. But those little girls deserve their birthright. They deserve to be protected from a woman who views human beings as stock options."
The SUV turned down a secluded gravel road lined with towering cedar trees, passing through an unmarked stone gateway.
At the end of the drive stood a magnificent craftsman estate built from native river stone and heavy fir timbers, perched dramatically above a private rocky beach.
Smoke curled gently from two massive stone chimneys, and the floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the mist-covered waters where ferry boats moved quietly in the distance.
The estate manager, an elderly woman named Martha who had known Daniel since his childhood, opened the front door with a warm, welcoming smile.
May you like
"Master Daniel," Martha greeted him, her eyes widening in immediate delight as she saw the two sleeping toddlers being carried in. "Heaven above... look at those beautiful darlings."
"They're home, Martha," Daniel said, his voice trembling with deep emotion as he carried Grace inside. "They're finally home."
