"She's right," I said. "Those are the terms. Accept them or lose everything."
"You can't be serious."
"I've never been more serious." I stood and moved to Katrina's side. "My daughter deserves to know her father. You've kept her from me long enough."
"I'm her mother, and I have rights!"
"And you'll continue to be her mother. With appropriate visitation in place and support." Katrina's voice didn't waver."But the games are over, Adrienne. You don't get to use Mila as leverage anymore."
Adrienne looked between us, her face red with fury. "This is bullshit, Olek! You can’t do this to me!"
"We can. We did." I put my arm around Katrina. "Now you can either sit down and finish breakfast, or you can leave. Alone."
For a moment, I thought she might actually try to grab Mila and run.
Instead, she threw her napkin on the table. "Fine. Keep her. I don't need this."
She stormed out, slamming the door behind her. The table was silent.
Then Mila said quietly, "Is she coming back?"
"Eventually," I said gently. "But for now, you're staying here with me. Is that okay?"
Her face lit up. "Really?"
"Really."
She ran to me, and I caught her, holding my daughter without the shadow of Adrienne's manipulation hanging over us.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You don't have to thank me. You're my daughter. You belong here."
Katrina smiled at us, and in that moment, I saw our future. Children, happiness, and her being all mine.
The house was finally quiet.
The guests had all left this afternoon. The decorations were being packed away. The mansion was returning to its usual pristine order. But some things had changed permanently.
Mila and Zara sat in front of the Christmas tree—the one we'd decided to keep up through New Year's—playing with the new dollhouse I'd had delivered. They'd become inseparable since they met. Sisters in everything but blood.
Katrina was curled up in my lap on the couch, drowsy and content. Her hand rested on her stomach, still flat but carrying our child.
"You're smiling," she murmured.
"I'm happy."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." I kissed her hair. "I have everything I want right here."
"Sap."
"Your sap."
She laughed softly and snuggled closer. Outside, snow was falling again. Inside, the fire crackled. The girls giggled over something. This was what I'd been missing my whole life without knowing it.
Not power. Not money. Not respect. Just this: Family. love. Home.
