A Heart Caught In Crime

Chapter 25 - Full circle

The soft glow of the nightlight cast dancing shadows on the nursery walls as I gently rocked Rhydian in the glider. At six months old, she was growing more beautiful and spirited by the day. Her dark curls, so like Natasha's, were starting to come in, and her eyes - a perfect blend of my blue and Natasha's brown - sparkled with curiosity at everything around her.

As I hummed a lullaby my mother used to sing to me, I marveled at how much my life had changed in just a few short years. From a reluctant mafia prince to a doting father in suburban Denver - it was a transformation I never could have imagined.

Rhydian's tiny hand wrapped around my finger, her grip surprisingly strong. I smiled, remembering how my father had once told me that a strong grip was a sign of a natural leader. But as I looked down at my daughter's peaceful face, I knew that whatever path she chose in life, it would be her own.

A soft knock at the door drew my attention. Natasha peeked in, her smile warm and loving. "She asleep yet?" she whispered.

I nodded, carefully rising from the glider. With practiced ease, I lowered Rhydian into her crib, holding my breath as I slowly withdrew my hands. She stirred slightly but didn't wake.

Natasha and I tiptoed out of the nursery, gently closing the door behind us. In the hallway, she wrapped her arms around my waist, leaning her head against my chest. "I love watching you with her," she murmured. "You're such a wonderful father, Christian."

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her shampoo. "I had a pretty amazing example of what not to do," I said wryly.

Natasha looked up at me, her expression a mix of love and concern. "Have you thought any more about your father's invitation?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. My father had called last week, inviting us to bring Rhydian to New York for a visit. It would be the first time he'd meet his granddaughter in person.

"I don't know, Tash," I admitted. "Part of me wants to go, to give Rhydian a chance to know her grandfather. But another part..."

"Is worried about the past creeping back in?" Natasha finished for me.

I nodded, grateful as always for her intuition. "Exactly. We've built such a good life here. I don't want to risk anything disrupting that."

Natasha led me downstairs to the living room, where we settled on the couch. The room was cozy, filled with photos of our little family and mementos from our life together. It was a far cry from the austere, formal living spaces I'd grown up in.

"Christian," Natasha said, taking my hands in hers. "I think we should go."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Really?"

She nodded. "Your father has respected our boundaries these past months. He's made an effort to be a part of our lives from a distance. Maybe it's time we meet him halfway."

I considered her words, knowing she had a point. My father had been nothing but supportive since we'd left New York. He'd respected our decision to start a new life, had never pressured us to return to the family business. His weekly video calls with Rhydian were filled with grandfatherly love and none of the manipulation I'd feared.

"You're right," I said finally. "We should go. But we set clear boundaries, and we leave at the first sign of trouble."

Natasha's smile was radiant. "Of course. We're a team, remember? Us against the world."

The next few weeks were a flurry of preparation. Traveling with a six-month-old was no small feat, and Natasha approached it with her usual efficiency. We booked flights, packed what felt like half the nursery, and made arrangements for Owen and Serena to keep an eye on the house.