I stood there for a long time, staring at the empty chair.
Then I walked upstairs.
Sofia was sitting on the edge of the bed in the guest room, her daughter asleep beside her.
She looked up when I entered.
“Is it over?” she asked quietly.
I nodded.
“It’s over.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she covered her mouth with both hands.
I crossed the room and sat down beside her.
“You’re safe now,” I said. “Both of you.”
She lowered her hands and looked at me, her face wet with tears.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why are you doing this for me?”
I reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face.
“Because you gave me my life,” I said. “And I’m going to spend the rest of mine making sure you don’t regret it.”
She let out a shaky breath and leaned forward, resting her forehead against my shoulder.
I wrapped my arms around her and held her while she cried.
Two weeks later, Sofia and Elena moved into the east wing of the estate.
The staff treated them with quiet respect. No one asked questions. No one whispered behind closed doors.
They were under my protection, and everyone knew what that meant.
Elena adapted quickly. She spent her days exploring the gardens, playing with the Doberman, and charming every person she encountered.
Sofia took longer.
She still flinched at loud noises. Still checked the locks on the doors three times before bed. Still woke in the middle of the night and checked on her daughter to make sure she was breathing.
But slowly, day by day, the fear began to fade.
One evening, I found her in the library, curled up in a chair by the window with a book in her lap.
“May I join you?” I asked.
She looked up and smiled.
“Of course.”
I sat down across from her, and for a while, we didn’t speak.
The fire crackled softly. Rain tapped against the windows.
“I never thanked you,” she said quietly.
