Chapter 20 HIS ONLY SOURCE OF JOY
CHAPTER TWENTY
GENERAL POV
The pink mansion had always been the quietest part of Kane’s world.
As his car rolled to a stop in front of the pastel building, his chest tightened in a way no battlefield ever managed to do. This place stripped him bare. No guards. No alarms screaming power and fear. Just silence, soft walls, and the one person capable of reaching the part of him he kept buried under cruelty and control. He was obsessed with driving through the front and not entering through his other wing because he wanted to make her know he was coming there first. He didn't just go to relieve himself and try to wash all the blood his hands had acquired.
He stepped out of the car in a hurry, his strides longer than usual. For the first time that day, his mind was not filled with punishment or revenge. It was filled with one thought only.
Micky.
The pink mansion was deliberately separated from the rest of the estate. Kane had made sure of it. He had sworn that whatever wars he fought, whatever blood he spilled, would never touch her. That was why there were no armed men stationed here. Just a nanny and occasional cleaners who knew better than to speak more than necessary.
He walked in briskly, barely glancing around, until he noticed a young woman folding clothes neatly at the foot of the bed.
The new nanny.
“Where is Micky?” Kane asked without slowing down.
“She’s in her drawing room, sir,” the girl replied quickly, lowering her gaze.
He did not ask why she was not with her. There was no need. Micky was impossible to control. Bossy. Curious. Wild in the way children were meant to be. Kane had learned long ago that trying to cage her spirit only led to tears.
He had given one instruction and one instruction only. Let her do whatever she wants. But if what she wants makes her cry or hurt herself, you will pay for it.
That rule had kept everyone alert.
He turned the corner and barely had time to brace himself before a small body came flying at him.
“Daddy Daddy.”
Her arms wrapped around his legs with full force, nearly knocking him off balance. Kane laughed softly as he bent down and lifted her into his arms.
He held her close, breathing her in, grounding himself in the moment. Moments like this were his sanity. His only proof that he was still human.
“How are you, my cute little angel?” he asked, brushing her curls back gently.
“Fineee,” she said, dragging the word out dramatically.
She pulled back suddenly, her eyes lighting up.
“Did you get what you said you’d buy for me?”
He chuckled. “Of course. How could I forget?”
He reached into the bag he carried and brought out the large doll she had sent him online days ago. It was the latest edition. Rare. Expensive. Impossible to find unless you had the kind of power Kane possessed.
Her scream of joy filled the room.
“Yay.”
She jumped up and down, hugging the doll tightly like it might disappear if she loosened her grip.
“I’ve missed you, Daddy.”
His smile softened instantly.
“I missed you too, my princess,” he said, lifting her back into his arms.
He carried her toward the bed and sat down, settling her comfortably on his lap.
“Now tell me,” he said gently. “Fill me in on your day. What little things happened when I wasn’t here?”
She launched into a detailed account of everything she had done, from breakfast to arguing with the nanny about crayons. Kane listened attentively, nodding, asking questions, pretending to gasp at the dramatic parts.
At one point, he grabbed a toy shark from the bed and waved it at her.
“Did you get eaten by a shark today?”
She squealed and ran around the room, laughter spilling freely as she dodged him.
“Nooo.”
He chased her playfully, the sound of her laughter echoing through the room. For a brief moment, the world outside ceased to exist.
They eventually collapsed on the bed, breathless and smiling.
She picked up her coloring book and crayons, settling beside him.
“What are you drawing?” Kane asked, peering over her shoulder.
She pointed eagerly. “This is me,” she said, tapping the small figure in the middle. “This is you.”
His chest warmed.
“And this,” she added, pointing to a taller figure beside them,
“this is mummy.”
His fingers stilled.
“Uhmm,” he murmured softly. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is,” she said proudly. “You told me mummy is in heaven.”
“Yes,” Kane replied carefully. “She is.”
“No she’s not.”
The words were simple. Innocent. But they hit him harder than a bullet.
He turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“She’s not in heaven,” Micky repeated calmly, focusing on coloring again.
“Then where is she?” Kane asked slowly.
“Somewhere,” she shrugged. “I don’t know.”
His heart began to pound.
“That day when I was downstairs,” she continued casually, pointing toward the parlour, “mummy carried me to my room and cuddled me.”
Kane froze.
“And yesterday,” she added, still coloring, “she stayed with me again in my bed.”
For a moment, Kane could not breathe.
He stared at his daughter, searching her face for signs of imagination or childish fantasy. But Micky looked calm. Certain. Children lied, yes, but they did not fabricate comfort with that kind of ease.
Still, he could not allow fear to creep into her world.
He swallowed and forced his voice to stay steady.
“Does she come to visit you too?” Micky asked softly, finally looking up at him.
“No,” he said gently. “She doesn’t.”
Her brows furrowed.
“Maybe she’s mad at you.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
“Next time,” Micky continued seriously, “I’ll tell her to come visit you too.”
His chest tightened.
“Please do,” Kane said softly. “Okay?”
She smiled brightly. “Yes.”
She returned to her drawing, humming lightly.
“Mummy is so pretty,” she said after a moment. “And she has a nice voice too.”
Kane turned his face away.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “She does.”
His throat burned. His eyes stung. He blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears threatening to fall. He could not afford to break down. Not here. Not in front of her.
He wrapped an arm around Micky and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her head.
In that quiet pink room, surrounded by crayons and innocence.