Chapter 5
When I got the call this morning about what happened, I rushed out, terrified of losing my daughter too. But when I arrived at the location they’d given me, I was shocked to find that some young woman had handled everything—even better than Ellie’s security guard, and he’s the best I have.
My daughter loved Amélie, and the two of them hit it off right away, so I’m going to try to keep her on as a nanny.
She doesn’t have a job—she’s just a student—so it won’t interfere with anything, and I can offer a good salary, which should make her accept without hesitation.
She agreed to take care of Ellie, for now.
We’ll see how things go. I don’t know anything about her, so I’ve already requested all her information from my friend Austin, who’s a cop.
Minutes later, I receive an email with a dossier containing absolutely everything about the girl who saved my daughter. I sit down and start reading.
Either Amélie is an enigma, or her life really is that uneventful. I decide to believe the second option, but I’ll keep my eyes open. After all, I’m letting a stranger into my house to take care of my daughter. I call Dona Marta to go over my decision with her.
“Hi, my son. Did you call me to talk about the new girl?”
“Yes, mama. She’ll be taking care of Ellie from now on, so I hope you’ll keep an eye on things for me, please.”
“I always do, but she seems like a good girl.”
“Yes, from what I’ve seen in her file, she seems to be, but we can never trust anyone. You know that.”
“Of course I know, boy. Rest easy—I’ll keep watch. But I believe you’ve finally found the right person. I saw how affectionate she is with little Ellie.”
“I hope so, because she misses her mother a lot. I know no one can take Luma’s place, but at least someone can give her a little affection.”
“Especially since you don’t do that, right, Owen? I’ve already told you to let go of this absurd revenge.”
“He killed my wife and almost took my daughter too. I’ll never forgive him.”
“Revenge doesn’t bring anything good to our lives, my son. Think about that.”
She says that and leaves, closing the door behind her. I know I might be exaggerating a little, but I still don’t feel satisfied with the time that man spent there. He should stay longer, away from his family, so he knows what I went through these last four years.
I arranged with Amélie for her to come the next day so she could organize her things, since she’ll be living with us while she takes care of my daughter. When she arrives, my security guards notify me, and I go to the door to greet her.
Today she’s wearing tight pants, boots, and a heavy sweater, and that’s when I notice how small she is. She can’t be more than 5’1”, much shorter than me, which makes me admire her even more for having defended my daughter. Just for that.
“Good morning, Mr. Blake. I hope I’m not late. I tried to leave home as early as possible, and even though I live nearby, the taxi took a while.”
“No problem. Ellie hasn’t woken up yet, and I want to talk to you about a few things.”
“Of course.”
“Leave your suitcase there and come to the office with me, please.”
She follows me to the office and sits in the same chair as the day before. I want to explain how everything works here, so I start talking.
“First, I want to thank you for being here. Ellie liked you very much, and that’s very important to me, since she doesn’t have a mother. So I’m going to go over how I want you to care for her, along with her schedules.”
I start talking, and she takes out a little notepad and writes everything down. I find that a bit odd, but I let it go since she told me she has no experience with children. I go over all of Ellie’s schedules with her—nap time, playtime, meals, everything—and when we finish, she says:
“Excuse me, sir, but don’t you think that for a four-year-old, she has too many activities in a day? When does she spend time with you, for example?”
I thought no one would ever ask me that question, besides Mattia, of course, who’s always criticizing me for being an absent father.
“If you do your job, miss, everyone will be happy. You’re here to take care of my daughter, and this is the routine she’s followed since she was two. I expect it to be maintained.”
“Of course, sir. I apologize for the intrusion. It won’t happen again.”
“I hope so. Dona Marta is waiting to show you your room, which is next to Ellie's. It's almost time for her breakfast, so go get settled—you don't want to be late. I'll bring you the contract to sign later.”
“Thank you very much, sir. Excuse me.”
She says and walks out. She's already being presumptuous. Deep down, I know she's right, but I can't admit that I'm a horrible father who barely pays attention to his daughter and only thinks about work. All of this just to try to forget my wife—an impossible task, but I try, every single day.
Since I lost Luma in that accident, I've never been the same.
I turned into a workaholic. I only leave the office to handle court matters or meet with my lawyer.
I stop by my daughter's room every night, kiss her forehead, and leave.
I've never put her to bed, never fed her, and it kills me—but it's the only way I can get through each day.
Will I ever change? I don't know. But since my wife passed away, the pain has been unbearable, and I've tried everything to escape it, but I can't. My friend and Marta say that once I let go of this crazy idea of revenge, I'll be better off, but I can't forgive him, and it eats away at me.
So I prefer to stick with this routine. That way I suffer less while I avenge the death of the person who showed me what love is.
I open a drawer in my desk where I keep the case files and a photo of my wife.
I set everything on the desk and stare at that pile of papers, along with the last photo we took together, a week before the accident.
She was beautiful, with a huge smile on her face and a flowing blue dress that showed off her swollen belly.
We dreamed so much about that moment—having children, right there in that same house—but that bastard took everything from me: my dreams, my children, and the woman I loved most in my entire life.
I will make him pay for everything—absolutely everything I'm going through: the sleepless nights, the drinking binges, being absent from my daughter's life because I can't even look at her without thinking of Luma.
I feel a tear roll down my cheek and rush to wipe it away.
I've cried too much these last four years.
I put the papers back in the drawer and lock it, compose myself, and leave.
Today I'm going to court to see where that bastard's case stands.