Then her eyes landed on my face.
She didn’t speak or ask where her baby was. She knew better than to rush me. Kashmere had survived me once, and survival taught you when to keep your mouth shut.
She walked forward slowly, and I watched her the same way I watched everyone, with calm attention that didn’t miss anything. Her face carried something different now. She lookeddetermined, but she also looked afraid, and she had every reason to be.
When she stopped a few feet away, I kept my posture relaxed and my expression controlled.
“Kashmere,” I said, my voice calm.
“Mrs. Mensah,” she replied, and her voice sounded smaller than I remembered.
I studied her for a moment longer, then I turned slightly and nodded toward my men.
“Bring him,” I said.
One of my men went back toward the jet, and Kojo’s hand stayed close to mine as we waited. The moment stretched, and I could feel the weight of it all. Kashmere stood still, her hands clenched at her sides like she was afraid to hope too hard and get disappointed.
Then my man returned. Preslan was in his arms, resting against his shoulder, and the sight of him walking toward us made Kashmere’s whole body change. Her eyes widened instantly, and her mouth opened like she wanted to speak but couldn’t. Then her hand flew up to cover her mouth, and her knees looked like they almost gave out.
The sound she made didn’t even sound like words. It sounded like pain and relief colliding at once.
When Preslan saw me, he reached out, and my heart squeezed because he didn’t know this was goodbye. He only knew he saw me and wanted me.
I kept my face calm anyway.
My man stepped closer, and Kashmere’s tears started falling before she even touched him. She reached for Preslan with shaking hands like she was scared he might disappear, and when my man placed him in her arms, she held him so tight it looked like she was trying to make up for a year in one second.
“My baby,” she sobbed, kissing his face over and over, her tears spilling on his cheeks. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
Preslan fussed for a second, confused, and I felt that confusion in my own chest like a sting, but I didn’t move, or step in. I didn’t soften my posture. I stood there and watched the reunion I had stolen from her.
Kashmere hugged him close and rocked him like her body remembered what her arms were meant to do. Her face was red, and her eyes looked swollen already, but she didn’t care. She kissed him again, then again, and she kept whispering to him like she was afraid he wouldn’t recognize her.
I cleared my throat because if I didn’t, I could feel tears pushing behind my eyes, and tears weren’t something I offered freely.
My men were already unloading Preslan’s bags from the jet and placing them into the car that brought Kashmere. The movement was fast and organized, like it had been rehearsed, because it had.
Kashmere finally lifted her face to me, and her eyes were red and wet, and her voice came out broken.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I gave a slow nod. I didn’t smile or respond with warmth because warmth would confuse the moment, and I didn’t want confusion between us.
“You’ll listen carefully,” I told her, my tone still calm. “You won’t speak on my family’s name. Not in interviews, not online, not to your friends, not to anyone you think you trust. If you do, I’ll come back for you, and you already know what that means.”
Kashmere nodded quickly, clutching Preslan tighter.
“And you won’t contact my son again,” I added. “You won’t text him. You won’t call him. You won’t send messages through anyone else. You will live your life with your child, and you’ll keep my family out of your mouth.”
“Yes,” she said, almost shaking as she spoke. “Yes, okay.”
I watched her for a moment, then I stepped back slightly. That was my permission for it to end.
Kashmere turned and walked toward the car with Preslan in her arms, still crying, still kissing him, still whispering to him like she was afraid the world might snatch him away again. The driver opened the door, and she climbed in carefully, holding him close.
The door closed, and the car pulled off.
And I stood there watching the dust settle behind it, my face still composed, my hands still at my sides, and my chest feeling too tight for the calm I was pretending to have.
