Chapter 5 Not a stranger after all

The gates alone were enough to make Amira hesitate.

Tall, black, and iron-forged, they opened with a slow, deliberate groan that sounded more like warning than welcome. The car rolled down the winding driveway, flanked by manicured hedges and polished stone paths that led to a house...not a house, a mansion ;that rose like a fortress from the earth.

The Wolfe estate looked like something out of a modern Gothic novel: cold, sharp, beautiful, and far too quiet.

Amira swallowed her nerves.

Money like this had a way of suffocating everything soft. She'd grown up learning not to trust it.

The driver helped her out and disappeared without a word, leaving her in the grand foyer, where the marble floors gleamed like ice and the chandelier above sparkled like it was trying to distract from the chill in the air.

Then she saw him.

Alexander Wolfe stood at the base of the staircase, hands in his pockets, jaw tight, suit crisp. Immaculate. Unreadable.

"Ms. Lane," he said, as if her presence were a business transaction being processed in real-time.

"Mr. Wolfe," she replied with equal calm.

Before another word could be exchanged, the sound of small footsteps echoed from above.

Amira turned just as a familiar voice called out.

"Daddy?"

And there she was.

Ella.

Her coat gone, her hair a little neater...but the same soft face, the same wide green eyes that had looked up at her in a café just yesterday and asked if dogs knew who loved them.

For a moment, Amira froze.

So did Ella.

Recognition flickered in her eyes like a switch had flipped.

"You..." Ella whispered.

Alexander's brows drew together. "You've met?"

"I saw her yesterday," Ella said before Amira could reply, her voice quiet but full of something warmer than surprise...something like hope. "She was nice to me."

Amira knelt gently. "Hi again."

Ella stepped closer. Not shy. Not suspicious.

She walked straight into Amira's arms.

Amira blinked, stunned, but wrapped her arms around the little girl without hesitation. The hug wasn't desperate,it was trusting. Natural. Like Ella had been waiting for someone to hold her and finally found someone who meant it.

Over Ella's head, Amira looked up.

Alexander was still staring, his expression unreadable but no longer composed.

"I didn't know she was your daughter," Amira said softly.

"I believe you," he replied, though his voice had lost its usual bite.

Ella pulled back slightly. "Is she staying?"

"For a while," Alexander said carefully. "She's going to be helping out around here."

"Can she read me a story tonight?" Ella asked.

Amira smiled gently. "Only if your dad says yes."

Alexander looked... caught.

He'd expected awkwardness. Resistance. Even tears. But Ella was smiling;a small, real smie and holding onto Amira's hand like it belonged there.

"Yes," he said finally, almost reluctantly. "She can."

Ella grinned and ran up the stairs, calling for one of the housekeepers to help her find a book.

Silence settled again, but this time it was less harsh.

"You didn't plan that," Alexander said, his voice low.

"No," Amira replied, standing. "But I'm glad it happened."

He studied her like she was a code he didn't quite trust but couldn't stop trying to crack.

"I'm not used to her warming up to anyone. Not even her teachers."

"I'm not anyone," Amira said with a soft shrug. "She needed a safe moment. I gave her one."

The way he looked at her made something in her chest tighten...not admiration, not desire. Confusion. Like he couldn't decide if she was a threat or a miracle.

"She's not the only one who needs one," she added before she could stop herself.

Then she turned toward the staircase, leaving him with that thought hanging in the air.

Alexander didn't say anything.

But as Amira's footsteps faded and the quiet returned, he realized something unnerving:

The stranger he'd brought into his home had just made his daughter feel more seen in five minutes than he had in five years.

She was making him do some deep self reflection;she hasn't even been here long.

And he didn't know whether to be grateful or terrified.