BROKEN DOLL

Chapter 13

**Anthony POV**

The door closes behind Adeline with a decisive click, leaving me standing alone in the office. I stare at the space she vacated, my mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. That girl—my daughter—has fire. There's no doubt about it. A part of me wants to chase after her, to continue our argument, but another part, a deeper part, swells with something I haven't felt in a long time: pride.

She stood her ground. Against me, no less. Not many have the courage to do that, and fewer still manage to do it with such conviction. It's a trait I recognize well; after all, it's one of my own.

As I make my way back to the main hall, I catch sight of Theo heading outside. The boy has always had a way of diffusing tension, and I trust him to look after Adeline. He understands her in a way I can't, not yet.

In the dim light of the hallway, I pause, reflecting on the day's events. Adeline's arrival has shaken the foundation of this household, bringing with it a storm of emotions and memories. Seeing her here, so much like her mother yet so fiercely independent, it's both a blessing and a challenge.

I walk to the foot of the grand staircase and lean against the banister. My gaze travels up to where she disappeared moments ago. My mind flashes back to the look in her eyes when she stood up to me. Strong, unyielding, yet vulnerable. She's been through so much, more than I can fathom, and yet she remains unbroken.

"Adeline," I murmur to the empty hall, the name tasting unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. She's right about respect—it must be earned. And tonight, she earned a great deal of mine.

Footsteps behind me pull me from my thoughts. It's one of the maids, looking anxious. "Sir, is everything alright?"

"Yes, Maria," I respond, waving her off. "Just... thinking."

She nods, her expression softening. "It's good to have her home, isn't it?"

I nod, more to myself than to her. "Yes, it is."

As Maria disappears down the corridor, I make a decision. I need to find a way to bridge the gap between Adeline and me. She's not just any rebellious teenager—she's a survivor, a fighter. And if we're going to coexist, I need to understand her world, her pain, and her strengths.

Slowly, I ascend the staircase, each step a reminder of the distance between us, both physical and emotional. I stop at the top, looking down the hallway where her room is. For a moment, I consider knocking on her door, but I know it's too soon. She needs space, and I need time to plan my approach.

I turn towards my own study, but not before casting one last glance down the hallway. "We'll get there, Adeline," I whisper to the quiet. "One step at a time."

The study is a sanctuary of sorts, filled with memories and reminders of a life that's seen its share of joy and sorrow. I sit behind the desk, my fingers tracing the worn edges of a family photo. It's an old one, from a time when life was simpler.

I pull out a sheet of paper and begin to write. Not a letter of apology—that's not my style—but a list of thoughts and promises. A plan to earn her respect, to show her that this place can be a home, not just a house. It's a start, a first step in what I know will be a long journey.

Hours pass, and the house grows quiet. I finish my notes and lean back in my chair, exhausted but determined. Adeline has awakened something in me—a desire to reconnect, to rebuild what was lost. And for the first time in a long while, I feel a glimmer of hope.

As I finally head to bed, I know tomorrow will bring its own challenges. But with Adeline here, there's a new energy, a new purpose. She may have arrived as a storm, but maybe, just maybe, she'll be the one to bring us all back to life.