15

Elara's Pov

The man standing in the doorway of my childhood bedroom didn't look like a billionaire emperor who commanded powerful global industries.

I had imagined meeting my biological father a hundred times since Kael first showed me that faded photograph in the hospital. But none of those daydreams prepared me for the real Alaric Veyne. He stood there with tear-filled eyes, his posture hesitant and cautious, looking like a man who had spent twenty-four years rehearsing every single word he wanted to say, terrified that saying the wrong thing might make me run away.

He didn't rush across the room. He didn't demand a hug or act like he owned me. Instead, he kept his hands resting quietly at his sides, his gaze warm and aching as he looked down at me sitting on the edge of the bed.

"May I come in, little one," he asked softly, his voice thick with emotion, "or do I still have to ask permission to see my own daughter?"

A lump formed in my throat, choking off any words I tried to form. I couldn't speak, so I just gave a small, slow nod of my head.

Alaric exhaled a long, shaky breath, as if he had been holding it in for decades. He walked into the room with quiet, heavy steps and sat down on the edge of the bed. He made sure to leave plenty of space between us, giving me all the room I needed so I wouldn't feel trapped or crowded.

"I know this is overwhelming for you, Elara," Alaric began, his voice trembling slightly as he stared down at his hands. "When you disappeared... our world completely stopped. Kael, Ronan, Silas, your mother, and I... we searched everywhere. We didn't just rely on the police. We hired private investigators, searched every hospital registry, checked every orphanage, and followed up on distant towns where someone claimed to have seen a child matching your description. But every single promising lead eventually ended in a dead end. Every time the phone rang, our hearts stopped, only to be broken all over again."

He turned his head to look at me, a deep, agonizing sorrow shadowing his dark eyes.

"I spent years blaming myself, Elara," he continued, his voice cracking. "I was away on a business trip during that family outing when you vanished. I convinced myself that our security arrangements were strong enough to keep my children safe. I never forgave myself for not being there. For every birthday, every holiday, every night you spent scared or alone... I carried the guilt of a father who failed his little girl."

Listening to him talk sent a shockwave straight through my chest. For eight long years in the Rooke mansion, I had been told that I was ordinary, that my feelings didn't matter, and that I was a burden. I had spent my whole life believing my parents abandoned me because I wasn't important enough to keep.

Hearing this powerful, legendary man sit across from me, crying and blaming himself for a loss he couldn't control, completely shattered everything I once believed about myself.

"Were you..." I whispered, my voice shaking so badly the words barely came out. "Were you ever angry with me? For disappearing?"

Alaric looked completely devastated by my question. His face paled, and he shook his head fiercely, reaching out a trembling hand toward me, though he stopped himself before touching my arm.

"Never, Elara. Not for a single second," Alaric said firmly, his eyes burning with absolute truth. "You were just a tiny child. You could never, ever have been responsible for what happened to you. No matter how much money our family possessed, no matter how much influence we had over global markets... none of it mattered. All that wealth became completely useless because it couldn't buy me the one thing I wanted: my daughter back."

Tears spilled over my eyelashes and rolled down my cheeks. All the heavy walls I had built around my heart crumbled into dust.

I couldn't hold it back anymore. I opened my mouth, letting the raw truth pour out of me. "I spent my whole life wondering what it would be like to have a father," I sobbed, my hands trembling in my lap. "I dreamed of what it would feel like if someone cared about how my day went, if someone showed up at a school event, or if someone just asked whether I had eaten dinner. I felt so invisible, Dad. I felt like nobody wanted me."

Alaric listened to every single word. He didn't interrupt. He didn't try to defend himself or make excuses. He just sat there, taking in the pain of my past, letting me release a lifetime of stored-up grief.

"I am so sorry I wasn't there when you needed me, Elara," Alaric whispered, his own tears finally falling freely. "Even though I didn't know where you were, I know my absence shaped your life. I am so sorry you had to carry that weight all on your own."

I wiped my wet cheeks with the back of my hand, looking up into his kind, tired eyes. A strange, comforting warmth bloomed inside my chest. For the first time, I didn't feel like an orphan. I didn't feel like an outsider looking in.

I looked down at my hands, testing the most important word in my heart, and took a deep breath.

"If... if it's okay with you," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the quiet room, "would you mind if I called you Dad someday?"

Alaric's composure completely broke. His breath hitched, and a fresh wave of tears rushed to his eyes. But he smiled—a wide, breathtakingly happy smile that made him look younger, lifting decades of heavy grief from his shoulders.

He didn't pressure me. He didn't demand that I use the word right away.

"You can call me whatever feels comfortable, my sweet girl," Alaric choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Whether it's today, next year, or never... I will still be endlessly grateful for every single opportunity to know you."

Unable to hold back any longer, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his neck. It was the first embrace I had willingly initiated with him. Alaric gasped softly in surprise before pulling me tightly against his chest, his strong arms wrapping securely around my back, holding me as if he were terrified I might disappear again.

For a brief, wonderful moment, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to imagine what it would feel like to truly belong here. I imagined waking up in this house, sharing meals with my brothers, and laughing with my parents without fear.

But even as the warmth washed over me, a sharp, confusing thought popped into my mind. A question that had been troubling me ever since I learned about the Veyne family's decades-long search.

I pulled back slowly from the hug, wiping my eyes, and looked straight into my father's face.

"Dad," I said hesitantly, testing the unfamiliar word on my tongue for the very first time, "if you never stopped looking for me, how did I spend so many years believing nobody wanted me?”