Chapter 4

BRIELLE’S POV

Four years and seven months later I was in my Lisbon studio.

I stood in front of the large worktable with a fabric sample in one hand and a finished sketch in the other, talking a client in New York through the final embroidery details on a limited-edition evening cape.

She wanted the neckline adjusted twice before agreeing, and I held the line on the third change, telling her the silhouette would lose everything that made it worth the price tag.

The call ended with a confirmed order and a transfer that made my assistant raise both eyebrows from across the room.

“That’s the third one this month,” she said.

“Good. Keep the waitlist closed.”

"People are getting annoyed about that waitlist."

"They can stay annoyed."

I set the sample down and walked into the next room where the noise level immediately skyrocketed.

Three little girls occupied the play corner I had built against the far wall.

Maya, the oldest by eleven minutes, was carefully arranging wooden blocks into a very serious tower.

Lila sat beside her explaining in rapid four-year-old logic why the tower needed a bridge.

Nora, the smallest, had abandoned the blocks entirely and was trying to climb onto the couch with a stuffed wolf tucked under one arm.

“Mama,” Nora called when she saw me. “Up.”

I crossed the room, lifted her, and settled her on my hip. She immediately rested her head on my shoulder like she had been waiting all morning for exactly that spot.

Maya looked up. “Are we still going to the park after lunch?”

“Yes. If everyone finishes their food without negotiations.”

Lila grinned. “I already finished mine in my head.”

“That’s not how it works.”

They launched into overlapping arguments about who had eaten more imaginary toast.

I listened and answered when necessary. Then my phone buzzed on the table and Alexander’s name popped up.

I shifted Nora to my other side and answered.

“Dad.”

“How’s my favorite designer?”

“Busy. And your granddaughters are currently debating the legal definition of finishing breakfast.”

He chuckled. “Put me on speaker for a second.”

I did and the girls immediately started shouting greetings, all talking over each other.

"Grandpa!" Nora yelled directly into the phone.

"There's my girl. What are you building today?"

"A tower," Maya said proudly. "It's the tallest one yet."

"It needs a bridge," Lila cut in. "I told her."

"A bridge sounds very important," Alexander said. "Does the tower have a name?"

"It's a secret," Maya said.

"Fair enough." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Are you three still going to the park after lunch?"

"Only if we finish our food," Nora said, sounding personally offended by the rule.

"Is Uncle Tristan going to be there when we come to visit?" Maya asked suddenly.

"He is," Alexander said easily. "He's already asking me every day when he gets to see you three again."

"Tell him I miss his dog," Lila said.

"I'll pass that along. He'll probably say the dog misses you more."

"Does he still have the big dog?" Nora asked.

"Bigger than ever. He asks about you three every single time I see him."

Maya tugged at my sleeve. "Can we call him after?"

"We'll see, baby."

"I'll bring new drawing sets when I visit next month," Alexander said, "one for each of you. No fighting over colors this time."

"That was Lila's fault," Maya said immediately.

"It was not!"

Nora just repeated, "Up," to no one in particular, already losing interest in the conversation.

When the noise died down I took him off speaker and stepped into the quieter hallway.

“Everything all right?” I asked.

“Better than all right. I’m expanding the New York division. A dull commercial redevelopment, multiple territories, and joint project with three other families. I need someone I trust to lead it.”

I already knew where this was going. “You want me to come back.”

“I want you to consider it. On your terms. You’d have full authority over the design and brand side, and a seat at the main table. The girls would have the family around them again. Tristan is already making space in the townhouse.”

I was quiet for a second, tracing the edge of the doorframe with my thumb. "You know it's not that simple for me, Dad. That city didn't exactly send me off with a going away party."

"I know exactly what that city did to you," he said, his voice losing some of its lightness. "Which is precisely why I want you walking back into it as the one holding the contracts this time, not the one being talked about behind closed doors."

I looked back through the doorway at the three of them. Maya had finally accepted Lila’s bridge design and Nora was pretending the stuffed wolf could fly.

“When do you need an answer?”

“Soon. But I already know what you’re going to say.”

I smiled once. “I’ll start packing.”

Two weeks later the private jet touched down at the airfield outside the city.

The girls were asleep in a tangled pile of blankets and stuffed animals across the seats. I woke them gently, gathered the bags, and stepped out onto the tarmac.

The air smelled like late summer and jet fuel. The skyline was glowing exactly the way I remembered it.

I adjusted Nora on my hip, took Maya and Lila’s hands, and walked toward the waiting car.

“Home sweet home,” I said under my breath.