Chapter 15 - THE DANCE THAT SAVED THEM
Five years after the assassination attempt, Vivien stood in the kitchen watching her husband dance with their daughter.
Little Isabella Costa was three years old.
She had her father's gray eyes.
Her mother's stubbornness.
And absolutely no respect for expensive furniture.
“Daddy!” she shouted.
Edmund lifted her.
“Yes, princess?”
“Dance!”
He smiled.
“As you wish.”
Vivien leaned against the doorway.
The man who had once terrified Chicago now spent his mornings making pancakes and dancing with a toddler.
Isabella giggled as Edmund spun her gently.
Then she looked toward her mother.
“Mama! Come!”
Vivien laughed.
“I think your father has enough dancing partners.”
Edmund held out his hand.
“Not possible.”
She stepped closer.
He drew her into his arms.
Their daughter laughed between them.
For a moment, Vivien remembered the first dance.
The cathedral.
The red dot.
The gunshot.
The fear.
The moment she'd thrown herself against a man she barely knew because she couldn't bear to watch him die.
Edmund noticed her expression.
“What?”
She smiled.
“Do you remember our first dance?”
He laughed softly.
“Unfortunately.”
“You were terrible.”
“I was an excellent dancer.”
“You nearly got us killed.”
“I believe someone else was responsible for that.”
Vivien smiled.
Then she whispered, “I thought I hated you.”
Edmund looked at her.
“And now?”
She kissed him.
“Now you're my favorite person.”
He smiled.
“Even when I forget to put the dishes away?”
“Don't push it.”
He laughed.
Isabella tugged his sleeve.
“Daddy, again!”
Edmund lifted her.
Then looked at Vivien.
“Ready?”
She smiled.
“Always.”
And as sunlight filled the kitchen, the three of them danced.
No audience.
No danger.
No performance.
Just a family.
May you like
A future.
And a love that had begun with a warning whispered against a stranger's ear.
