Chapter 9 - The Promise Leo Made Again
Victor Lane was arrested on financial fraud, child endangerment conspiracy, obstruction-related allegations, and other supported charges as investigators built the case.
Not every theory survived.
Some charges would change.
Some would not.
Marina cooperated and faced her own consequences.
I thought that would free me.
Instead, Leo asked me to stay in New York for one week.
“No.”
He did not argue immediately.
Good.
“Why?”
“I have a life.”
“You told me you barely leave your apartment.”
I glared.
“That was cruel.”
He looked genuinely ashamed.
“Yes.”
“Don’t use what you learned from Victor’s surveillance file against me.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“Start.”
He nodded.
There was something strange about watching a man everyone feared learn to apologize in real time.
Then:
“Isla still nurses from you.”
“Temporarily.”
“She rejects most bottles when distressed.”
“She needs a feeding specialist.”
“She has one.”
“Then why me?”
Leo looked at his daughter sleeping in portable crib beside us.
“Because she sleeps after you hold her.”
My chest tightened.
“That is not a reason for me to become permanent.”
“I know.”
He was learning.
I sat down.
“What do you actually want?”
His answer surprised me.
“Three days.”
“For?”
“To help transition her to screened donor milk and bottles while pediatric team changes routine.”
That was reasonable.
“Three.”
“Yes.”
“No bodyguards outside bathroom.”
Owen from doorway said, “That happened once.”
I looked at him.
“Once too many.”
Leo almost smiled.
“Fine.”
“No one accesses my medical records.”
“Agreed.”
“No foundation profiling.”
“Agreed.”
“And no more ‘you don’t walk away from my world.’”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then:
“I withdraw the wording.”
“Good.”
“Not the sentiment.”
I sighed.
“Leo.”
“You saved my daughter.”
“I fed her.”
“You recognized danger.”
“So would any competent nurse.”
“No one else did.”
That was not entirely true.
But I let it pass.
Three days became five.
Not because Leo trapped me.
Because Isla had trouble transitioning.
The pediatric feeding specialist believed bottle aversion had been reinforced by sedation and stress.
We worked slowly.
Different nipple flow.
Skin-to-skin alternatives.
Small feeds.
No forcing.
By day five, Isla took sixty milliliters from Leo himself.
He looked at bottle like Olympic medal.
I laughed.
He stared at me.
“What?”
“You’re laughing.”
“Yes.”
“I haven’t heard that.”
The grief returned instantly.
Because Daniel used to say the same thing after Grace was born when sleep deprived.
I looked away.
Leo understood.
“Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize every time I remember them.”
“How do I know when not to?”
“You don’t.”
That was grief.
No map.
Then my own milk supply began decreasing as stress stabilized and I stopped pumping frequently.
Expected.
Natural.
Emotionally brutal.
Feeding Isla had reawakened part of my body I thought I wanted gone.
Now losing that function felt like losing Grace again.
I cried alone in guest bathroom.
Leo found me because I forgot to lock door? Better he knocks and hears. He waited outside.
“Nora?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re crying.”
“Excellent observational skills.”
He stayed outside.
Did not enter.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Yes.”
He left.
Five minutes later, there was tea outside door.
No note.
That moved me more than a speech would have.
Then on final day, I packed.
Leo did not stop me.
He held Isla.
“You’re really leaving.”
“Yes.”
“When will you visit?”
“I didn’t say I would.”
His expression tightened.
“Right.”
I walked toward elevator.
Then he said:
“Nora.”
I turned.
He did not make a command.
He said:
“I want you in our lives. But I won’t make you responsible for what happened to us.”
That was first promise from him that did not sound like prison.
I almost answered.
Then elevator opened.
Detective Monroe stood inside.
Her expression serious.
“We need to talk.”
“What now?”
“Victor wasn’t working alone.”
Leo’s face hardened.
“Adrian?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“Someone from Nora’s grief-support network sold Victor her private information.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who?”
Monroe held up a photograph.
May you like
Amelia Ross.
My closest friend.
