I thought I'd escaped hell. Thought if I worked hard enough, if Paul loved me enough, we could build a home in this tiny refuge. But reality showed me the Vincent Family's shadow never left. It just waited for the perfect moment to strike the killing blow.
"Mommy, can we go home? I'm scared." Tommy hiccupped through his tears.
I held him tight. Tears finally spilled over. If I stayed, I'd lose Tommy. If I left, I'd lose my reason to live.
Six years later, facing the same choice, what the hell was I supposed to do?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Paul
Hawaiian afternoon light poured through the bookstore's massive windows, pooling on the hardwood floor. The air smelled of old paper and coffee.
I was restocking the biography section when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Casey's name lit up the screen. I answered with my usual smile.
"Casey? Tommy up from his nap?"
What came back wasn't her warm voice. It was sobbing, raw and suffocating.
"Paul... Paul, you need to come home..." Her voice shattered. "The bank froze my accounts, and... and Elizabeth's people were just here. They said my residency permit's been revoked... Paul, what do I do? They said they're taking Tommy..."
My mind went blank. Elizabeth had made her move. My self-righteous stepmother had finally chosen the most vicious weapon in her arsenal.
"Don't panic, Casey. Stay inside. Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone."
I dropped the books and bolted for the exit.
"I'm coming. Ten minutes. Wait for me."
I ripped the "Open" sign off the door, didn't even bother locking up, and tore out onto the highway. I lost count of how many red lights I ran. One thought consumed me—get to her.
When I burst through the door, the living room was silent. Casey sat curled in the corner of the couch, clutching a drowsy Tommy to her chest. Her eyes were swollen, face ghost-white, hair stuck to her cheeks in damp strings. The moment she saw me, tears streamed down her face. Her whole body convulsed, lips trembling too violently to speak.
I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around both of them. "It's okay. I'm here."
Her body was ice-cold. Her fingers dug into my shirt and wouldn't let go. Tommy stirred, rubbing his eyes and whimpering. She patted his back, murmuring, "It's okay, it's okay," but her voice cracked with every word.
"Paul, she said I entered illegally... she can deport me whenever she wants, make sure I never see Tommy again." She looked up at me. "She said the Vincent Family has a thousand ways to get a child, and I'm just an insignificant obstacle. How can she be so cruel?"
After she spoke, her body seemed to collapse inward. She slumped against me, shoulders jerking with sobs. Tommy didn't understand what was happening—he just clung to her neck, calling for Mommy.
A fire raged in my chest. Vincent Family manners, rules, dignity—in that moment, it was all a joke. Their "family honor" was built on manipulation and destruction.
"She won't get away with this. I promise."
I kissed Casey's forehead, forcing my voice to stay steady.
"Casey, look at me. I won't let anyone hurt you. Do you trust me?"
She raised her head, tears blurring her vision. After a moment, she nodded hard.
I helped her settle down and told her to take Tommy upstairs to rest. Once she closed the bedroom door, I walked to the corner of the yard and called Marcus. As one of Boston's top corporate lawyers, I needed him.
He picked up after two rings. "Paul? Had a feeling you'd call today."
"Elizabeth went after Casey's immigration file and bank accounts. I need you to hit back. Now."
I kept my voice low. "Dig up everything on Elizabeth's illegal operations, especially proof she funneled family foundation money to immigration officials. I want the most direct, most damaging evidence you can find."
