All Chapters of The Phoenix Heiress: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

I’ve been in this office since we got back from the mall. Not because I had work to do—though there’s always work—but because I needed space. Space to think. Space to lie to myself a little longer.She said “Goodnight, Nick.”And I answered.Didn’t even hesitate. Just let it slip out like it was still ten years ago and she was still mine to protect.She’s close. Closer than I ever thought she’d get. And I’ve been letting her walk blind through a world built on secrets—with me standing at the center of the biggest one.I told myself I’d wait. Let her figure it out on her own time. Let her come to me when she was ready.But time’s up.Hovak knocked once, then stepped in like he owned the place. Dude’s got the kind of confidence you can’t teach—earned it on the road, in the dark, when things went sideways and he didn’t flinch.“You gonna tell me why you’ve been holed up in here since the mall?” he asked, dropping into the chair across from me.I didn’t answer right away. Just nodded towa

The engine hummed beneath me, steady and low, like a heartbeat I could trust. Unlike mine. I’d left the clubhouse without a word, just the sound of boots on gravel and the slam of the door behind me. I needed air. Space. Something that didn’t smell like blood and loyalty and the weight of everything I’d just said.Kat knew now. All of it. Who I was. Who she was. What her family was planning.And she looked at me like she didn’t know what to feel.Not hate. That’s too strong. But something shifted in her—like the ground moved and she wasn’t sure where to step. Her silence wasn’t rejection, but it wasn’t trust either. It was something in between, and that’s what gutted me.I told her the truth, and it felt like I’d handed her a storm without a map.Her family doesn’t know she’s here. Not yet. But they will. And when they do, they’ll come with smiles and promises and all the polished poison they’ve used before. She’s their blood, their legacy, their leverage.But I want her to stay.Not

Kat hadn’t left her room all day.I’d knocked once around noon. No answer. Knocked again at three. Still nothing. By six, I stopped pretending I wasn’t worried.She wasn’t just hiding. She was bracing.I ordered pizza—extra cheese, no mushrooms. Grabbed her favorite candy from the stash in my office drawer. Popped in one of those old movies she liked, the kind with too much rain and not enough plot. Then I knocked a third time. This time, I didn’t wait.“Kat,” I said gently, pushing the door open.She was curled up on the bed, hoodie pulled tight around her face like armor. Her eyes flicked to me, then back to the wall.“I brought bribes,” I said, holding up the pizza box. “And sugar. And bad cinema.”She didn’t smile, but she didn’t look away either.I sat down beside her, careful not to crowd. “You don’t have to talk. Just… let me be here.”For a while, we just watched the movie. She picked at the pizza. I let her. It wasn’t about food. It was about showing up.Halfway through the s

The hum of the jet still echoed in my bones, but it was the silence in the SUV that gnawed at me. GreenLee hadn’t spoken since we landed. Not to me. Not to the boys. Matteo and Salvatore sat stiffly in the back, eyes forward, jaws clenched like they were bracing for impact. Maybe they were. Maybe we all were.I glanced at GreenLee. Her arms were folded tight across her chest, her gaze locked on the passing scenery like it might offer her an escape route. She hadn’t forgiven me. Not for how we handled Kat. Not for the silence. Not for the exile.And she was right.I should’ve let her talk to our daughter. Should’ve trusted her to reach Kat in ways I couldn’t. But I was the Don. I made the call. And now, I was the father who hadn’t heard his daughter’s voice in over two years.The Clubhouse loomed ahead, tucked behind the trees like a secret waiting to be unearthed. We’d flown in for the run—business, tradition, loyalty. But all I could think about was Kat. The way her eyes used to ligh

I sat beside her, close enough to feel the tremble in her spine. She was telling them everything now—her family. The ones who’d spent two years wondering if she was dead or worse. And now they were hearing the truth. Every brutal detail.I’d heard most of it before. Not like this. Not in daylight, with her voice steady and her eyes locked on her father’s. I’d heard it in the dark, when her nightmares clawed through sleep and she’d wake gasping, reaching for me like I was the only thing keeping her tethered to this world.But this—this was different.She spoke of Boris like he was a storm that never passed. The isolation. The punishments. The way they broke her down piece by piece and made her question her own name. Her mother cried quietly. Her brother looked like he wanted to kill someone. Her father just stared, like he’d aged ten years in ten minutes.I didn’t say a word. I didn’t need to. I was there. I’d always be there.Then she turned to me. Her eyes—God, those eyes—held someth