Chapter 1333:

Evelina blinked, her drowsy gaze drifting until it landed on Deandre sitting beside her. She paused for just a moment—then her face broke into a bright, unguarded smile.

“Hi there!”

Melany tightened her hold instinctively, but before she could stop her, Evelina had already leaned forward, gripping the armrest and reaching eagerly toward him.

“You saved me and Mommy! You’re like a hero!” she announced, her voice brimming with admiration.

Even after everything that had happened the night before, she showed not a trace of fear toward the man who seemed to unsettle everyone around him.

Deandre swallowed quietly and extended his hand toward her.

Her small fingers wrapped gently around one of his, and in a soft, unhurried voice, she said, “Thank you!”

His eyes went slightly red. He held the tears back by the thinnest of margins.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his voice coming out a little rougher than usual.

Jоi𝗻 𝘵𝘩𝗈𝘶ѕ𝖺ո𝗱𝘴 𝗼𝖿 fan𝗌 𝗼𝘯 g𝖺l𝗇𝘰vе𝘭s.𝖼𝗈𝘮

Evelina rummaged in her pocket for a moment, then produced a piece of candy and held it out to him. “Here—take this.”

Deandre accepted it, holding it carefully in his palm as though it were something fragile.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

With a small, satisfied nod, Evelina nestled back into Melany’s arms and let out a sleepy yawn. “Mommy, I’m sleepy…”

Melany said nothing. She kept her gaze fixed on the tarmac outside, watching the ground crew complete their final checks, her lips pressed firmly together.

She had no idea how to navigate what was unfolding in front of her—and more than anything, she didn’t want Evelina to discover that the man sitting beside them was her father.

Deandre quietly asked a flight attendant for a blanket and draped it over Evelina. Then he turned to Melany, his expression softer than it had been in years.

“She really resembles me,” he said gently. “And she’s adorable.”

Melany held the child firmly against her, her eyes darkening with a quiet but unyielding protectiveness. “She belongs to me. Only to me.”

A sharp, sudden ache cut through Deandre’s chest. “Yeah,” he answered quietly. “Of course.” At least for now, that was the truth.

Not long after the plane leveled off, Melany gradually drifted to sleep.

She hadn’t rested at all the night before—worn down by the frantic packing, the last-minute flight, and the desperate effort to put distance between herself and Deandre. Now, leaning against the seat with her head tilted toward the window, her breathing finally settled into a slow, steady rhythm.

Deandre shifted slightly, turning toward her. His eyes settled on her sleeping face and wouldn’t move away. A loose strand of hair had fallen across her cheek, and he lifted his hand instinctively to brush it aside—his finger barely an inch from her skin when a voice broke through from the aisle.

“Mr. Owen! What a surprise running into you here.”

His hand stopped midair. He lowered it slowly and turned toward the aisle.

.

.

.