CH.102

Serena felt hot tears well up and stream down her cheeks as she stared at the man who had just walked into the bedroom.

Her heart seemed to stop for a moment before racing wildly she thought it might burst from her chest.

She blinked rapidly and rubbed her eyes roughly with the backs of her hands. She was convinced they were playing cruel tricks on her, that her mind was conjuring up this impossible vision out of desperate longing.

But no matter how many times she blinked and rubbed, the image before her didn't change or fade away.

The man standing there, looking older and more careworn yet still unmistakable, was her father, Walter Bolting - the same man who had been officially announced dead in a horrific car crash days ago.

"D-Dad?" Serena called out in a trembling, broken voice thick with disbelief as she forced her heavy feet to move towards him.

Her heart thundered in her ears, drowning out all other sounds. She felt lightheaded, almost disconnected from reality like she might float away at any moment.

"Is it really you?" she whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly might shatter this moment and make him disappear again.

Walter Bolting's eyes were also glistening with unshed tears that he seemed to be fighting hard to hold back.

His gaze roamed over his daughter's face hungrily, drinking in every detail as if to make up for all the time they'd lost.

Seeing his baby girl alive and well before him was all that mattered in that overwhelming moment.

"It's me, sweetheart," his deep voice rough with emotion. "I'm here. I'm real."

As soon as Serena was within reach, he pulled her into a fierce embrace, holding her tightly against his broad chest.

Heart-wrenching sobs wracked both their bodies as pent-up grief and longing poured out.

Father and daughter clung to each other like their lives depended on it, all the fear, loss and longing finally finding release.

Serena breathed in the comforting, familiar scent of her dad that she thought she'd never get to experience again.

It brought back a flood of childhood memories. Piggyback rides, bedtime stories, and the feeling of absolute safety in her father's arms.

Hot tears of joy and relief streamed down her face, soaking into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.

"I missed you so much, Dad," Serena choked out between sobs. "I never stopped hoping you were alive somewhere."

"I'm so sorry, baby girl," Mr. Bolting murmured. "I never wanted to leave you."

Killian watched the emotional reunion silently from the side with an unreadable expression on his handsome face. He observed how the President held Serena so tightly, almost possessively, both of them crying unrestrainedly without a shred of embarrassment or restraint.

Serena finally pulled away slightly to look her father over with frantic eyes, needing to check if he was truly unharmed.

Her hands ran over his face and arms as if to assure herself that this wasn't some cruel dream that would evaporate at any moment.

"What happened? How did you... I thought you were dead that night? We all did. There was a funeral and everything." Questions began tumbling out in a torrent as the initial shock slowly wore off, replaced by a desperate need for answers.

"I knew you weren't really dead. I always had this deep feeling, this sense that you were still alive somewhere no matter how much people tried to make me believe otherwise. I just knew my evil stepmother Kayla was behind it all!"

Serena's voice rose in pitch and volume as she ranted about how her wicked stepmother had forged his will and announced to the world that he had left everything to Kylie, Kayla and Alex.

"She tried to destroy everything you built, Dad! She and her mom have been living it up on your money while I was left with nothing. And Alex... God, Alex was in on it too!" Serena's voice cracked on the last word, fresh pain lancing through her at the memory of her ex-husband's betrayal. “I’m sorry I never listened to you and hid my relationship with Alex from you.”

Mr. Bolting held up his large hands in a placating gesture and then gently brushed back the wild strands of hair from Serena's flushed face. "Easy there, honey. We'll discuss all the details later," he said, trying to soothe her. "Let's just take a moment and breathe, okay? I'm here now, that's what matters. We'll sort everything out together, I promise."

He patted her back soothingly, feeling the tension in her slight frame as he tried to calm her frazzled nerves.

The poor girl had clearly been through severe trauma, and his heart ached at the thought of all she must have endured in his absence.

Stepping back slightly, he assessed Serena's disheveled figure attentively with a scrutinizing gaze.

Her puffy eyes and pale complexion were clear signs that she had been crying heavily for quite some time.

Dark circles under her eyes spoke of sleepless nights, and she seemed thinner than he remembered, almost fragile.

A protective rage simmered within him at the thought of people mistreating and causing his little girl such anguish.

His fatherly instincts kicked in, and he turned a stern, warning glare towards Killian, who was leaning casually against the wall observing them with an amused face.

The young man's nonchalant attitude in the face of such an emotional moment rubbed Mr. Bolting the wrong way.

However, the man’s expression quickly shifted to one of wariness when he remembered the shocking, otherworldly events he had witnessed the previous night.

He recalled Killian's monstrous, inhuman transformation right before his eyes, suppressing an involuntary shudder as the vivid memory flashed through his mind.

There was no denying that Killian was not human.

A cold trickle of dread snaked down his spine as he wondered if Serena was fully aware of the truth about her new husband and his unsavoury acquaintances.

"Serena," he began hesitantly and quietly, not sure how to broach the subject, "This man... How well do you know him? Are you aware of his... nature?"

Before Serena could respond, his troubled thoughts were interrupted by a loud growl that seemed to emanate from her stomach.

Her face flushed a deep crimson with embarrassment because she knew Killian, of course, wont miss a cheeky remark about the undignified noise.

"Sounds like someone's got a fierce beast roaring away in there," Killian quipped with an amused snort. "No surprise there after the night you had, sis. We'd better get you fed soon before that monster really starts going wild. Wouldn't want Daddy Dearest here thinking we've been starving you."

"Enough of that," Mr. Bolting said sternly, shooting Killian a disapproving look before turning his attention back to his daughter.

His voice softened as he addressed Serena. "It's already late into the morning and you haven't had breakfast yet, sweetheart. Why don't we all head downstairs to the dining room so we can get you properly fed? I'd love to spend more time with you. We have so much to catch up on."

Serena found she couldn't refuse when her father looked at her with such warm paternal affection and gently urged her to join them.

Despite the tumult of emotions swirling within her and the myriad questions still unanswered, the rumbling of her stomach reminded her that she did need to eat.

She managed a smile and a small nod, allowing him to drape a comforting arm around her shoulders, guiding her out of the bedroom.

The warmth of his touch was achingly familiar, yet surreal.

Killian sauntered behind them silently.

Serena found herself stealing glances at her father as they descended the grand staircase.

She drank in the sight of him greedily, noting every change, nothing the new lines etched the corners of his eyes and mouth. Streaks of distinguished silver now threaded through his once jet-black hair, particularly at the temples.

The weight of his arm around her shoulders, solid and real, made Serena's throat tighten with a swell of emotion she struggled to contain. How many times had she dreamed of this moment, only to wake to the cold reality of his absence?

Serena's senses were immediately assaulted by a symphony of delicious aromas as soon as they entered the huge dining area.

The long table before them was a veritable feast for the eyes as well as the nose, filled with a sumptuous array of breakfast delicacies that would put a five-star hotel to shame.

Thick slices of applewood-smoked bacon curled enticingly on platters, their edges crisp and glistening with rendered fat that sizzled and popped. Fluffy scrambled eggs produced golden peaks, coated with brilliant green chive fragments and topped with succulent cherry tomatoes that burst with flavor.

A towering stack of buttermilk pancakes dripped with warm maple syrup and pools of melting butter forming in their surfaces.

Woven baskets overflowed with an array of freshly baked pastries that filled the air with their yeasty, buttery perfume.

A crystal bowl brimmed with an artful arrangement of berries and melon.

Ornate silver coffee and tea servers stood at attention, with steam curling invitingly from their spouts. Pitchers of fresh-squeezed orange juice caught the light, while a mug of rich hot chocolate promised indulgent warmth.

The setting was a work of art in its own right, featuring beautiful bone china rimmed with gold leaf, hefty sterling silverware polished to a mirror sheen, and delicate crystal goblets that sung at the slightest touch.

Crisp linen napkins were folded into elaborate shapes with a sprig of fresh herbs tucked into each as a fragrant accent.

Serena sank into the plush upholstered chair across from her father.

Killian sprawled in the seat opposite her with his usual careless grace. His long legs were stretched out before him as if he hadn't a care in the world.

The thick oak door swung open just as they were getting settled in. Seven's imposing figure filled the doorway for a moment before he strode purposefully into the room.

Mr. Bolting's reaction was immediate. His entire body went stiff and his eyes narrowed to wary slits.

Memories of the previous night's chaos flashed behind his eyes. Vivid recollections of Seven and Killian's inhuman display of power as they tore through the guards holding him captive like tissue paper.

The older man wondered yet again if Serena knew of this surreal reality.

Serena had fully expected Seven to take a seat far from her, given his typically aloof and standoffish demeanor.

The man had always carried himself with a remote, almost icy air, keeping others at arm's length both physically and emotionally. However, she was caught entirely off-guard when, to everyone's visible surprise, Seven crossed the room in a few long strides and slid smoothly into the chair directly beside her on her left, with her father seated to her right.

Even more shocking was when Seven broke the tense silence. "How are you feeling, Donna?" His deep voice was uncharacteristically gentle, though that familiar undercurrent of steely authority still ran beneath the surface. "It's good to see you well."