The helicopter blades slowed as they landed at Victor's estate. The night had been long. Too long. Bodies had been cleaned up, loose ends tied, and wounds patched.
Victor carried a sleeping Miguel in his arms, the boy's small head resting against his shoulder. Each breath from his son felt like a miracle—a child he hadn't known existed just weeks ago.
Behind him, Selena limped up the marble steps of the mansion, her face still bearing the marks of Xavier's cruelty. Thomas helped her walk, his own shoulder bandaged where the bullet had torn through.
"Put her in the east wing," Victor told Gerald without looking at Selena. "She'll have everything she needs there."
Something flashed across Selena's face—pain, understanding, resignation. She said nothing as Gerald led her away, her eyes li
