Chapter 7 - The Unveiling of the Past
Back at the massive,
sprawling Vance estate,
I woke up slowly,
peacefully,
feeling more rested,
relaxed,
and completely safe than I had ever felt in my entire,
difficult life.
The large,
luxurious king-sized bed was incredibly,
unbelievably soft,
covered in crisp,
white Egyptian cotton sheets and heavy,
warm silk blankets that smelled faintly,
sweetly of fresh,
blooming lavender.
I sat up carefully,
gently supporting my large,
heavy stomach,
feeling my sweet,
active baby boy shifting comfortably,
happily in the warm,
protective space.
The heavy,
velvet curtains had been pulled back slightly,
allowing a bright,
cheerful stream of golden,
afternoon sunlight to pour across the massive,
beautifully decorated room.
Eleanor was sitting quietly,
patiently in a large,
plush armchair near the beautiful,
crackling stone fireplace,
holding a small,
delicate porcelain teacup in her elegant,
steady hand.
When she saw that I was finally,
peacefully awake,
her striking,
piercing blue eyes softened instantly,
filling with a warm,
overwhelming wave of pure,
unconditional maternal love.
"Good afternoon,
my beautiful,
perfect darling,"
she said softly,
standing up gracefully,
smoothly,
and walking over to sit gently,
carefully on the very edge of the large,
comfortable mattress.
"How are you feeling,
Clara,
and how is my perfect,
precious grandson doing today?"
I smiled,
a genuine,
radiant smile that felt strange,
unfamiliar,
but absolutely wonderful on my tired,
recovering face.
"We are both doing incredibly,
wonderfully well,
Mom,"
I answered,
the beautiful,
powerful word still feeling like a magical,
impossible dream on my tongue.
Eleanor reached out,
gently,
lovingly placing her warm,
soft hand against my large,
swollen belly,
letting out a soft,
delighted gasp as the baby immediately,
energetically kicked directly against her palm.
"He is so incredibly,
wonderfully strong,
just like his beautiful,
resilient mother,"
she whispered,
a small,
glistening tear slipping quietly,
silently down her perfectly,
flawlessly manicured cheek.
"I want to know everything,
Mom,"
I said gently,
reaching out to tightly,
affectionately hold her other hand.
"I want to know about my father,
about my long,
lost childhood,
and about the family I never,
ever knew I had."
Eleanor nodded slowly,
taking a deep,
shaky breath,
preparing to revisit a dark,
painful past that had haunted her for twenty-four long,
agonizing years.
"Your father was named Richard,
and he was the kindest,
smartest,
and most gentle,
loving man I have ever,
ever known,"
she began,
her voice trembling slightly,
visibly overwhelmed by the heavy,
crushing weight of her deep,
enduring memories.
"We built this massive,
global company together,
working late,
exhausting nights,
fighting against ruthless,
greedy competitors who wanted to see us completely,
permanently fail."
She looked away,
staring deeply,
sadly into the bright,
dancing flames of the large,
crackling fireplace.
"When you were finally,
joyfully born,
it was the happiest,
most incredible day of our entire,
shared lives.
You were a perfect,
beautiful angel,
with your father's dark,
curly hair and my stubborn,
bright blue eyes."
I listened carefully,
intently,
trying to picture the warm,
loving parents who had deeply,
desperately wanted me,
contrasting it with the cold,
heartless foster families who had always,
consistently made me feel like an annoying,
unwanted burden.
"But our immense,
staggering wealth made us a massive,
highly visible target,"
Eleanor continued,
her voice dropping to a low,
chilling whisper of pure,
unadulterated sorrow.
"A rival,
corrupt corporate family,
a group of disgusting,
ruthless criminals who we had legally,
fairly defeated in a massive,
lucrative bidding war,
decided to exact a terrible,
unimaginable revenge."
I gasped softly,
my heart aching,
breaking for the terrible,
senseless tragedy that had completely,
permanently altered the course of our innocent,
happy lives.
"They paid a corrupt,
evil security guard to quietly,
stealthily bypass our complex,
expensive alarm systems in the middle of a dark,
stormy night.
They took you directly,
quietly from your beautiful,
warm crib,
leaving behind a cold,
cruel ransom note demanding total,
complete surrender of our company."
Eleanor's eyes flashed,
a sudden,
terrifying spark of pure,
righteous fury igniting in the deep,
sorrowful blue.
"We paid the massive,
exorbitant ransom immediately,
without a single,
solitary moment of hesitation,
but the cowardly,
evil kidnappers panicked,
realizing the massive,
unstoppable global manhunt we had unleashed."
She wiped a fresh,
hot tear from her face,
her hand shaking violently,
uncontrollably with the old,
unfading trauma.
"Instead of returning you safely,
securely to our loving,
desperate arms,
they abandoned you quietly,
anonymously at a small,
run-down orphanage in a distant,
forgotten city,
erasing every single,
identifying trace of your true,
royal heritage."
I pulled her into a tight,
fierce embrace,
wrapping my arms securely,
lovingly around her shaking,
trembling shoulders,
letting my own hot,
salty tears fall freely,
uncontrollably into her soft,
fragrant hair.
"I am here now,
Mom,"
I whispered fiercely,
determined to heal the deep,
gaping wounds that had bled,
ached for more than two long,
miserable decades.
"They didn't break us,
and they certainly,
absolutely didn't win."
Eleanor pulled back slightly,
cupping my face in both of her warm,
trembling hands,
her expression filled with a fierce,
unbreakable pride.
"No,
my beautiful,
perfect daughter,
they did not win,
and neither will that pathetic,
May you like
disgusting worm who tried to steal your bright,
promising future."
