Chapter 3: Abby's Hero - part 1

ABRAHAM’S POV

The lamp cast my shadow across the wall as my eyes silently scanned the pages of the dossier. My gaze was fixed unwavering, and the balaclava covering the lower half of my face hid the tight line of my lips as I took in the information.

Three targets.

One was married to Argentina’s Minister of Security.

The second looked like a televangelist and talked like a drug dealer.

And the third…

Valastro.

Always him.

That damn name lived under my skin like a parasite—gnawing, festering, bleeding. I snapped the file shut with a dry click, inhaled through my nose, and exhaled slowly, trying not to let the venom spread.

My back ached. The jacket draped over the chair had probably been there for seven hours. My mouth tasted like stale, bitter coffee. Still, I didn’t move—

Not until I heard footsteps.

Quick. Light. Too soft to be an adult’s.

I turned just slightly, muscles tense. And in that same second, the office door flew open.

“DAAAD!”

And suddenly, nothing else mattered.

Abby stormed into the room like a pink hurricane, fairy wings fluttering on her back, glitter tangled in her hair. The heart I worked so hard to keep armored shattered in an instant.

Three seconds. That’s all it took for her to leap into my lap, arms flung around my neck, breathless and laughing like the world wasn’t full of blood and lies.

“What happened, flower?” I asked, placing a steady hand on her head. Her blonde hair clung with sweat, and the redness of her nose told me she’d been crying.

“Abby almost died today!”

My eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me?”

She looked at me like she was telling an epic tale, eyes wide with excitement, completely unaware of the weight of the words she had just hurled at me.

“I ran into the street, and the car was coming SUPER fast, but then this lady saved me! She jumped, pulled me out, and fell on the ground with me. She even hurt her foot! She’s my hero, Daddy! She hugged me really tight, just like Mommy used to…”

There was a brief silence. A damn cruel silence.

I pulled her tighter, then glanced at Hanna like a predator ready to pounce. My secretary shrank back, looking for a place to hide.

“You crossed the street without looking?” My voice came out low tight. My eyes locked on Hanna. “Alone?”

“Daddy, Auntie Hanna walks soooo slow, and Abby wanted to see the Barbie on the other side of the street.”

I closed my eyes. Took a breath.

Once.

Twice.

My daughter nearly got run over while I was here, brooding over ghosts from the past.

“Mr. De Montreal,” Hanna finally said, her voice shaky. “She ran. I’m sorry. I told her it wasn’t safe, and... well, Abby even slipped past the security guards.”

Of course, she had. She was my daughter. Abby could drive anyone crazy. And that’s the only reason Hanna still had a job. The poor woman never signed up to be a babysitter—hell, she didn’t even know how to deal with kids. That much was obvious.

“What’s her name?” I asked, still holding Abby. “The woman who saved my daughter.”

“Celeste Castell,” Hanna answered, adjusting her glasses. “Young. Art student, based on our conversation. Didn’t seem like a threat. She was shaken, crying when we found her, but she acted fast. Saved Abby without hesitation.”

Celeste.

“I want my hero to be my nanny!” Abby declared, squirming in my lap like it was her throne. “She’s so pretty, Daddy! She has long hair like a princess and a really nice smile, and she smells like bubblegum!”

One eyebrow shot up.

“Bubblegum?”

“Yeah! Like the pink candy. And she called me ‘little one,’ and then squeezed me tight and closed her eyes like when you’re really tired or sad, you know?”

My jaw clenched.

“I don’t know this woman, Abby. We don’t know where she’s from, who she is, or what she wants. You know Papa has to be careful about who enters this house.”

“But she saved me, Daddy!” she pouted, patting my shoulder like that would seal the deal. “She’s my hero! I want her, please, please, pleaaase!”

Abby hugged me tight again, burying her face in my neck with a tiny sniffle.

And just like that, my damn heart started to give in.

It always did.

“Go with Hanna now,” I said, gently releasing her. “Give me thirty minutes to think.”

“Are you gonna hire her, Daddy? Pleeease?”

“I don’t know.”