Chapter 20
Five years later.
The Drake family legacy was no longer whispered in dark alleys; it was written on the side of skyscrapers, hospitals, and charity foundations.
It was a Sunday morning. Bella was in the massive kitchen, wearing one of Lucas’s oversized button-down shirts, flipping pancakes. Leo, now an energetic six-year-old, was running circles around the kitchen island with their golden retriever.
"Leo, slow down!" Bella laughed. "Go wake up your father, breakfast is almost ready."
"He's already awake!" a voice called out.
Lucas walked into the kitchen. He looked older, distinguished, with a few streaks of silver in his dark hair. But his eyes were brighter than they had ever been. In his arms, he carried a tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket.
Their three-month-old daughter, Maya.
He walked over to Bella, kissing her deeply while carefully supporting the baby.
"Morning, beautiful," he whispered.
Bella leaned against him, looking at her chaotic, perfect kitchen. She thought back to the lonely, terrifying night she had knocked on the black double doors of Room 6101. She had been a broken girl with nothing but a folded stack of towels and a desperate plea.
She looked at her son laughing on the floor, her beautiful daughter cooing in her father's arms, and the man who had torn down an empire just to build a home for her.
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The pill had failed to erase the consequences of that night. Thank God it did. Because the consequence was everything she had ever wanted.
"Pancakes are ready," Bella smiled, taking her daughter into her arms. "Let's eat, family."
