Chapter 9 - The Crimson Sunrise
A year after leaving the old mansion, life in the coastal house had established a peaceful, vibrant rhythm. The dark days under Patricia’s reign felt like a distant, bad dream that had burned away with the morning fog.
It was Daniela’s twelfth birthday.
The coast house was decorated with soft white string lights, blue balloons, and fresh flowers from the garden. Emiliano had spent the entire morning in the kitchen with Rosa, covered in flour, attempting to make a multi-layered chocolate cake.
"Mr. Duarte, you are putting far too much baking powder in that batter," Rosa scolded playfully, shaking her head as she took the mixing bowl from his hands.
"I am a billionaire, Rosa, I can buy more flour," Emiliano joked, wiping a smudge of white powder from his forehead.
"Money cannot fix a flat cake, sir," she retorted with a warm laugh.
From the hallway, Martina ran into the kitchen, wearing a bright yellow sundress. "Dad! Daniela is coming down!"
Emiliano wiped his hands on a towel and walked into the dining room. Daniela stood at the bottom of the stairs. She wore a soft blue dress, her long hair pinned back. But what caught Emiliano’s breath was her smile. It was radiant, open, and entirely free of the guarded fear she had carried for so long.
"Happy Birthday, my sweet girl," Emiliano said, opening his arms wide.
Daniela didn't hesitate. She ran across the room and threw her arms around her father's waist, hugging him with all her strength. Emiliano wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head.
"Thank you, Dad," Daniela whispered into his chest.
"For the party?" Emiliano asked gently.
"For coming back for us," Daniela said, looking up into his eyes. "For listening."
Emiliano felt a surge of emotion so strong it brought fresh tears to his eyes. He squeezed her tighter. "I will always come back for you. Always."
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Rosa walked out from the kitchen carrying the chocolate cake—which, despite Emiliano's heavy-handed baking, had turned out beautiful—adorned with twelve glowing candles. Martina ran to the piano in the corner and began tapping out a joyful, slightly off-key version of the birthday song.
As Daniela blew out her candles, surrounded by the warmth of a real home, Emiliano looked around the room. He saw his younger daughter laughing at the piano, his elder daughter glowing with joy, and Rosa standing beside them, her face filled with peace.
