Chapter 61 Chapter 61
The truth of his observation stung, though Helga would never admit it aloud. Instead, she turned to face the panoramic view of the city, her reflection fractured across the glass as the setting sun cast long shadows across the penthouse.
"This girl, this Iris, she's unlike anyone he's shown interest in before," Julius continued, watching his wife's rigid posture for any sign of softening. "Have you seen her designs? Truly looked at them?"
"I've been briefed on her portfolio," Helga replied dismissively.
"Being briefed isn't the same as seeing," Julius countered, rising from his desk to join his wife at the window. "I had my assistant pull samples of her work. The girl has extraordinary vision, the kind of raw talent that can't be taught or bought. And Antony recognised it before anyone knew her connection to the Lawsons."
Across town, in the intimate Italian restaurant, Iris and Tony had finished their dessert and were lingering over coffee, reluctant to break the spell of normalcy that had enveloped them for the past two hours.
"I should probably get you back to campus," Tony said regretfully, checking his watch. "It's getting late."
Iris nodded, though she made no move to leave. "This has been nice, feeling like a normal college student on a normal date for a few hours."
"Is that what this is?" Tony asked with a teasing smile. "A date?"
"Well, you did ask me to dinner before everything exploded," Iris replied, a blush colouring her cheeks. "Though I suppose it's our first official one, unless you count coffee at the campus café."
Tony reached across the table to take her hand. "I count every moment I've spent with you. But yes, I'd like to officially call this our first date."
As they finally rose to leave, the restaurant owner approached their table, his expression warm but cautious. "Mr Kennedy, there are photographers outside. They arrived about twenty minutes ago."
Tony's expression darkened as he instinctively moved closer to Iris. "How many?"
"Three that I could see," the owner replied, his Italian accent thickening with displeasure. "I told them my restaurant is not a circus, but they refused to leave. My nephew is bringing your car around to the back entrance."
Iris felt the brief bubble of a normal life pop back into her new normal, where everyone wanted to know and see this heiress who had been missing for so long. Every news station on the planet would be practically claiming over each other to get the best shot.
Iris felt her stomach tighten as the brief illusion of normalcy shattered around her. The security detail that had faded into the background during dinner suddenly became vitally important again.
"I'm sorry," Tony said quietly, his hand finding the small of her back. "I thought we'd have more time before they found us."
The restaurant owner's expression softened as he looked at Iris. "Do not worry, signorina. My restaurant has protected the privacy of important guests for three generations. We will get you out safely."
As they followed him through the kitchen toward the back entrance, Iris found herself cataloguing details with her designer's eye, the gleaming copper pots hanging above industrial stoves, the efficient movements of the kitchen staff, the rich aromas of garlic and herbs. Focusing on these sensory elements helped steady her racing heart.
Outside, a sleek black car waited in the alley, engine running. One of the security personnel stood beside it, speaking quietly into his earpiece. When he spotted Iris and Tony, he opened the rear door smoothly.
"Mr Kennedy, Ms Maxwell. Three photographers are at the front entrance, and another two have just arrived. We should move quickly."
Tony helped Iris into the car before sliding in beside her. As the vehicle pulled away from the restaurant, he reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"I'm sorry our evening ended like this," he said, genuine regret in his voice.
Iris watched the city lights blur past the window, reality settling back around her shoulders like a familiar weight. "It's not your fault. I suppose this is my life now, photographers and security details."
"Not always," Tony promised. "We'll find spaces where you can just be Iris."
At the Maxwell home, Leo sat in the darkened living room long after the boys had gone to bed. Carol found him there, staring at the family photos arranged on the mantel, images chronicling Iris's childhood from the infant they'd brought home to the confident young woman who'd left for college.
"Can't sleep?" Carol asked softly, settling beside him on the worn sofa.
Leo shook his head, his eyes never leaving the photographs. "I keep thinking about what the Lawsons missed. Her first steps were right there in front of the Christmas tree. The time she lost her front tooth and tried to hide it because she thought the tooth fairy wouldn't come if we knew. Her kindergarten graduation when she announced she was going to be a clothes maker because Jakob's pants always had holes in the knees."
Carol leaned against her husband's solid shoulder, her own memories surfacing alongside his. "They missed so much," she agreed. "But they never stopped looking for her, Leo. Twenty years, and they never gave up."
"That's what gets me," Leo admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "The dedication. If it had been one of our children, regardless that they're all adopted..." He couldn't complete the thought, the very idea too painful to articulate.
"We would have done the same," Carol finished his sentence. "We would have done the same. Searched for our child until the day we died if necessary."
Leo nodded, the truth of her words settling into his heart. The Lawsons' unwavering dedication to finding their daughter wasn't so different from what he and Carol would have done in their position. In that shared love for Iris, perhaps they could find common ground.
"I just worry about the boys," he admitted. "Seeing all that wealth, that lifestyle. Will they resent coming back to our modest home afterwards?"