Chapter 23: The Weight of a Father's Silence

Marcus stood in the study, where the smell of leather and old paper still lingered. The walls were lined with shelves of legacy—ledgers, journals, contracts. The foundation of Lockwood Enterprises.

But none of that felt as important as the quiet photo on his desk: Clara, in her teens, eyes bright and curious—one of the few pictures they had managed to retrieve from her foster records.

He picked it up now, thumb brushing the frame.

How many times had he stared at that face in secret? How many nights had he opened the file, reading the cold, clinical reports on his own daughter—found in a small town, enrolled in public school, no knowledge of who she truly was?

When they discovered the truth, Vivienne had cried.

Marcus had not.

He'd gone still. Silent. He was a man of numbers, precision, control. But Clara had never fit into a formula. She was fire. And he didn't know how to hold fire without getting burned.

The day she walked into the boardroom, announcing herself not as a victim, but as an heir—he had seen everything in her eyes: defiance, pain, and a flicker of hope.

But she hadn't looked to him.

Because he hadn't been there.

He hadn't searched hard enough. Hadn't risked enough. And that guilt lived in his bones.

There was a knock. Clara entered quietly.

"I thought I'd find you here," she said.

He turned, unsure what to say.

She walked over and placed another photo on the desk—this one is recent. The three of them at the foundation launch. She was smiling, unguarded.

"I had a copy made for you," she said softly.

He looked at it, then at her. Clara... I'm sorry. For all of it."

She nodded. "I know. And I forgive you. But I need you to stand beside me now. Not just as a CEO... but as my father."

He swallowed hard.

"Always," he said.

And for the first time since she returned, Marcus Lockwood embraced his daughter—not as a second chance...

…but as his pride.

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