Roman's POV
The plane slowly descended from the sky, and I finally breathed a sigh of relaxation. The board meetings that never seem to end, the formal dinners, and back-to-back handshakes I had to partake in were finally over.
It was time to rest.
After a long trip, there was no better place to do that than at home.
As soon as I stepped out of the terminal, my driver was already waiting for me. He greeted me with a nod and a smile before taking my bag and leading me to the black SUV parked close by.
The drive was quiet and smooth. Just how I liked it to be.
No calls from anyone. No messages, telling me to be at the office immediately. Just the low sound of the engine and the city we slowly passed by as we made our way back to the one place I could finally drop everything.
Home.
I dropped my suitcase the moment I stepped inside the house and immediately sank into the couch I had missed all this while. The cushions welcomed me like I was an old friend, and for a moment, I just sat there, letting the warm feeling go around me.
After a while, I cleaned up, took a long shower, and enjoyed a well-prepared meal. Slowly, the stress began to fade from my shoulders. The familiar feeling of home, the quiet sound of the hallway lights, it all felt right again.
I was finally starting to warm up to the house.
But then I saw it.
It caught my eye somewhere on a post, hidden in a tweet on a local neighborhood story blog.
"Seraphina Hayes turned orphan after being disowned by her father."
I froze.
I couldn't believe it. I read it again, slower this time, hoping I had misunderstood it the first time. But the words didn't change.
I was stunned.
I opened a few more tabs, searched the story, checked the sources, the names, the dates, even the blog's authenticity.
And it was all legit.
Without wasting a second, I dialed Seraphina's number. My fingers trembled slightly on the screen as I managed to get the contact out of where it was hidden.
She picked up the phone almost immediately, like she had been waiting for my call.
"Seraphina?"
"Yes…. Yes," she answered, her voice sounding weak, broken. I could even hear the soft sniffs through the line, like she had been crying for hours.
"Seraphina, where are you? I just saw what happened."
"I don't know," she replied, her voice cracking as if she was on the verge of breaking down and just giving up.
"Can you locate my home?" I asked quickly.
There was hesitation on the other end, a pause and then finally, she answered, "Yes."
"Come here straight away," I said firmly.
I could hear her let out a sigh. Then she ended the call
I waited. Nearly an hour had passed, the time stretching longer than it should have And then, finally, the doorbell rang.
I rushed to the door and opened it without a second thought.
There she stood.
Her hair messy, her face pale, her eyes swollen and black all around from her smeared makeup and too many tears shown on her face from the lines it had made. She looked like she had been through a war and she lost it.
Without saying a word, I picked up her bags and stepped aside, letting her into the house gently.
I pointed towards the guest bathroom. She didn't argue. Just nodded lightly and disappeared behind the door.
There, she got clean.
She didn't bring many things with her, barely a few of her clothes. The few she had looked worn out, crumpled from the days of wandering out in the cold.
The next day, I decided to take her out for shopping. She needed new things, comfort included, a sense of her normal life, something that would make her forget what had happened.
She was hesitant at first to follow me, unsure whether to accept the gesture I was showing her. But eventually, she nodded, maybe realizing she was under my roof and I didn't mean no harm.
She still hadn't told me what exactly happened, and I didn't ask her.
Letting the whole thing fall, letting it quietly die down, that seemed like the best way to handle it for now.
At the store, she selected a few things, always reaching for the cheapest and quickest options. I urged her to take more, to stop holding back.
I even turned to one of the attendants nearby, a young woman with a wide smile and said, "Help her pick out anything a girl would need."
She agreed almost instantly, of course. As long as she was making a sale for the store, she was more than happy to help.
The news about her disowning died down over the next few days.
No one really saw her, and with nothing new to report about her, the gossip lost its fuel. The internet moved on from her story, as it always did.
And her father?
He didn't care.
He didn't even search for her. Didn't release any statement. Didn't deny the story to the public.
He simply moved on, as if she, as if Seraphina had never existed.
I had known Charles for a long time. We were close, once his closest friend. I was practically part of his family. I had shared dinners at his table, celebrated his wins, and stood by him during losses.
But I never thought, never imagined, Charles would be capable of doing something like this.
Seraphina began warming up around me.
Her smile returned, soft, slowly, but it was there. Only occasionally did it seem to fade whenever she remembered what had happened to her.
One morning, she thanked me for everything, for the shopping, for the roof over her head, for simply being there for her.
I waved it off with a chuckle. "I'd do anything to help a friend's daughter," I teased.
She smiled again, but this time it stayed on her face.
Soon, she began handling little things around the house, cleaning up the living room, setting the table, folding laundry I hadn't even noticed needed folding.
And I didn't stop her.
I tried to treat it like it was nothing. I tried to act casual.
All I knew, deep down, was this…..
No one was ever going to treat her that way again.
Not while I was still breathing.