Chapter 9 - The Legacy of Pine Ridge RoadThe drive back to Pine Ridge Road was quiet, peaceful, and bathed in the pale, beautiful light of early spring.
As I unlocked the front door and stepped into the warm entryway, the heavy silence of the house didn't feel lonely anymore; it felt like a sanctuary.
I kicked off my heels, walked into the living room, and scooped little Lucas up from his playmat. He squealed with delight, kicking his chubby legs and grabbing instinctively at my necklace with tiny, fierce fingers.
"You're just like your father, aren't you?" I laughed, burying my face in his soft neck and inhaling that sweet, intoxicating baby smell.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table. It was a text from Samantha:
“We just finalized the Q2 corporate projections. Expansion into the New England market is officially approved, and our profit margins are up 42 percent year-over-year. You did it, Victoria.”
I looked down at the text, then back at my son.
Six months ago, I had been a victim kneeling on a cold concrete porch, watching my life shatter into a million jagged pieces while my father laughed and my water broke. I had been told by the man who gave me life that I had no power, no rights, and no future.
May you like
He had forgotten one fundamental truth: when you try to bury a woman who is already anchored to a legacy of unyielding love and ironclad protection, you don't bury her at all.
You just give her the chance to rise.
