CHAPTER TEN
Kade Nightwell returned on a quiet Sunday afternoon.
There was no dramatic announcement, no grand entrance—just the soft click of the front door and the sound of a suitcase rolling across marble floors. But Kiera felt it instantly, like the air itself had shifted.
She was in the kitchen, helping Leo cut fruit for a snack when she heard his voice.
"I'm home."
Leo froze.
Then the knife clattered onto the counter as he bolted toward the hallway.
"Dad!"
Kade barely had time to drop his bag before Leo slammed into him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Kade exhaled sharply, relief flooding his features as he knelt and hugged his son back just as tightly.
"I missed you," Leo mumbled into his jacket.
"I missed you too," Kade said, his voice rough. "Every day."
Kiera stood back, watching the reunion with a quiet smile. The week without him had stretched longer than she'd expected. Not because the work was hard—but because the absence had been loud.
Kade looked up.
Their eyes met.
Something unspoken passed between them—relief, familiarity, a shared understanding of what it meant to come back to something that felt like home.
"Welcome back," she said softly.
"Thank you," he replied. Then, after a beat, "And… thank you for everything."
Leo finally released him, launching into an excited recap of the week—school, nightmares, drawings, pancakes shaped like stars. Kade listened intently, his gaze flicking occasionally to Kiera, as if measuring the weight of her presence in every word Leo spoke.
Later that evening, after dinner and after Leo was tucked into bed, the penthouse fell into a calm, familiar quiet.
Kade poured himself a glass of water and gestured toward the couch. "Sit with me for a minute."
Kiera did, her hands folded neatly in her lap.
"How was the week?" he asked.
She considered the question honestly. "Hard. But… good."
"You handled everything," he said. "Leo barely noticed I was gone."
She smiled faintly. "That's not true. He missed you every day."
Kade nodded, guilt flickering briefly across his face. "Still. You did more than I expected."
There was a pause.
Then he said, carefully, "I've been thinking about you."
Her heart skipped. "About me?"
"Yes." He leaned back slightly. "Your future."
The word made her chest tighten.
"I don't want this job to be the end of the road for you," he continued. "I know you're capable of more. Of… choosing more."
She stared at him, unsure where this was going.
"Kiera," he said gently, "have you ever thought about going back to school?"
The question landed softly—but it shook her.
School.
Dreams she had folded away and locked up years ago. College applications she never filled out. A future she'd told herself wasn't meant for girls like her.
"I—" She swallowed. "I didn't think that was an option."
"It is," he said simply.
She looked at him in disbelief. "Kade, I take care of Leo. I work full-time. I don't even know where I'd start."
"We'd figure it out."
We.
The word warmed and frightened her all at once.
"What would you want to study?" he asked.
She hesitated. "I always liked psychology. Understanding people. Why they hurt. Why they break."
His gaze softened. "That makes sense."
"But it's not realistic," she said quickly. "I can't afford tuition. Or time."
"I can afford tuition," he replied calmly.
Her breath caught. "No."
"Kiera—"
"I won't be indebted to you," she said, panic rising. "I won't feel like I owe you my life."
Kade leaned forward, his voice steady. "You wouldn't owe me anything. This wouldn't be charity. It would be an investment—in you."
She shook her head. "I don't know how I'd do it. Leo needs me. You travel. I can't just leave."
"I'm not asking you to leave him," Kade said firmly. "We'd arrange your schedule around his. Part-time classes. Online options. Tutors if needed."
She stared at him, overwhelmed.
"You've given so much of yourself to everyone else," he continued. "I want you to have something that's just yours."
Tears burned behind her eyes.
"I don't know if I'm smart enough anymore," she whispered.
He frowned. "Who made you believe that?"
She didn't answer.
"Kiera," he said quietly, "surviving what you did didn't make you weak. It made you resilient. Intelligence isn't lost because life was cruel to you."
Her hands trembled slightly. "What if I fail?"
"Then you try again," he said. "And you won't do it alone."
That word again.
Alone.
It had defined her entire life.
She looked down, her voice barely audible. "I'm scared."
"I know," he replied. "So am I."
She looked up at him in surprise.
"Letting someone matter this much," he said honestly. "It's terrifying."
The honesty in his voice stripped away her defenses.
"I don't want to disappoint you," she admitted.
"You won't," he said without hesitation.
The certainty in his tone made something inside her crack open.
Later that night, after they said goodnight, Kiera lay awake staring at the ceiling. Her mind buzzed with possibilities she'd never allowed herself to imagine.
A future.
A degree.
A life where she wasn't just surviving—but becoming.
Still, doubt whispered cruelly in her ear.
You'll fail.
You'll be too much.
You'll lose everything again.
She turned onto her side, clutching her pillow tightly.
Down the hall, Kade stood outside Leo's room, listening to his steady breathing. He leaned his forehead against the doorframe, exhaling slowly.
As powerful as he was in boardrooms and negotiations, this—this choice—felt far heavier.
Because asking Kiera to dream again meant promising, silently, that he wouldn't be the one to take those dreams away.
The next morning, over breakfast, Leo looked up suddenly.
"Kiera," he said, "Dad says you might go to school."
She smiled nervously. "Maybe."
"That's good," Leo said seriously. "You're really smart."
Her throat tightened. "Thank you."
Kade met her gaze across the table.
It wasn't a decision made yet.
But the door was open.
And for the first time in her life, Kiera Frost stood at the edge of something hopeful—wondering not if she deserved it…
But if she was brave enough to step through.