A sharp pain pierced her chest as something deep and instinctive surged to the surface.
Sophie made a sound.
Not a word. A broken syllable, dragged from somewhere buried.
“Mama…”
Victor stiffened. His body reacted before his mind did—his hand slipping slightly inside his jacket.
The restaurant fell silent.
Then Sophie screamed, “MAMA!”
The word ripped through the room.
“Mama… stand up,” Sophie sobbed, clinging to Hannah’s leg. “Mama, please.”
Victor went pale.
The man rumored to fear nothing stared at his daughter as if reality itself had cracked.
Hannah staggered back. “I—I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know why she’s doing this.”
“Enough,” Victor said.
But his voice trembled.
He rose, positioning himself between Hannah and the rest of the room. With a small gesture, security stepped back. The doors closed softly.
“My daughter has never spoken,” he said quietly. “Not once. In two years.”
Sophie kept crying, her tears soaking Hannah’s uniform.
Victor’s gaze shifted—from his daughter to Hannah.
Under the lights, the truth became impossible to ignore.
The same green eyes.
The same soft smile.
The same faint scar beneath the eyebrow.
Recognition struck him like a blow.