562 “Stop it, please. You’re breaking his arm.”

Back at the Blackwood mansion, the tension of the previous forty-eight days—or rather, forty-eight hours that felt like a lifetime—began to give way to a cautious, healing rhythm.

Ethan was finally able to sit up in his nursery, propped up with soft pillows, carefully drawing clumsy green crayon lines on a oversized coloring book while Lily sat beside him on the rug, guiding his left hand.

The nursery felt different now. The dark, oppressive energy that Serena had brought into the room had been thoroughly scrubbed away. The windows were wide open, letting in the crisp, clean spring air.

A soft knock sounded at the open door.

Victor stood in the doorway. He had changed into a dark cashmere sweater, looking relaxed and approachable. In his hands, he held a small, beautifully wrapped velvet box.

"Can I interrupt the art studio?" Victor asked with a warm, gentle smile.

Ethan looked up, his big brown eyes lighting up. "Daddy!" he babbled happily, tossing his green crayon aside and holding out his good arm.

Victor crossed the room in two long strides, scooping his son up carefully, avoiding the fiberglass cast on his right arm, and planting a warm kiss on the boy's cheek. Ethan giggled, wrapping his little arms around his father's neck.

Victor looked over at Lily, who was scrambling to her feet, wiping crayon dust off her jeans.

"I have something for you," Victor said, holding out the velvet box.

Lily blinked in surprise. "For me? Mr. Blackwood—Victor, you don't have to—"

"Open it," he insisted gently.

Lily took the small box, her fingers trembling slightly as she lifted the lid. Inside rested a delicate, platinum pendant shaped like an open book, encrusted with tiny, brilliant diamonds.

"When you first came to this house," Victor explained quietly, his dark eyes never leaving her face, "you carried a journal everywhere you went. A record of Ethan’s health, his breathing, his milestones. You cared for him when no one else was paying attention."

He stepped closer, closing the distance between them until she could feel the warm, steady rhythm of his presence.

"That journal saved my son’s life," Victor continued. "And you saved his future. I want you to have this—not as an employee bonus, but as a token of my eternal gratitude."

Lily looked down at the pendant, then up into Victor’s eyes. There was no corporate armor left in his gaze. Just a man, a father, and a soul looking for redemption and finding it right here in the nursery.

"Thank you, Victor," Lily whispered, her voice thick with emotion.