“I wasn’t even scared, Daddy!”

Six-year-old Daisy ran toward her father, and he effortlessly scooped her up in his arms and hugged her tight.

It was a warm winter, even by South Florida standards, and Anthony couldn’t miss the flush of Daisy’s cheeks as she stared into his eyes.

“Of course you weren’t scared, Daisy. You’re my big, brave girl.” He smiled at Christy who was walking toward him. “No tears?” he asked his wife.

“She handled it like a champ,” Christy beamed. She was referring to their visit to the doctor’s office where Daisy was given an immunization shot.

Christy glanced around Anthony’s workshop and said, “It’s been almost two years, and you still haven’t unpacked all your tools. It’s a mess in here.”

“I’ve been busy establishing Native Touch on this coast, Christy. I haven’t had much time for organizing my shop.”

“How about I get Daisy some lunch, and I’ll be back to help you. I think the two of us could knock it out in under a couple hours. If it’s not so cluttered, maybe it’ll be an incentive to go back to your blacksmithing. I know it’s something you love.”

Christy knew there was more to Anthony’s reluctance to return to his hobby than just a cluttered workshop. He was still grieving the loss of his friend. Grizz had finally been put to death by lethal injection the previous summer. The irony wasn’t lost on either of them that the man who’d always been two steps ahead of the law and offered up information that’d kept Anthony and others out of trouble, hadn’t been able to save himself. They were both certain his death sentence would’ve been commuted to life without parole, but it hadn’t happened.

“What about Daisy?” he asked Christy. “You can’t leave her in the house alone.”

“Is Chrissy home?” Daisy interrupted from her perch on her father’s arm. She was referring to her sixteen-year-old brother, Christian, and was the only person in the world who could get away with calling him by that nickname.

“He left before you got here, sweetheart,” Anthony told her as he gently set her back on her feet.

She stomped her foot and whined, “But he promised he would play Beauty and the Beast with me today.”

Anthony gave Christy an inquisitive look.

“He has tea with her behind closed doors,” Christy tattled. She remembered the day she’d asked Christian to watch Daisy for a few hours while she ran errands. Before Christy left the house, Daisy had convinced her brother to watch her favorite video. When Christy returned to the house she quietly peeked in Daisy’s room to find them both sitting at her miniature table drinking juice from Daisy’s tea set.

“Maybe Slade will play with you if he stops by,” Anthony offered.

Daisy pouted and kicked the floor. “Chrissy is the best Beast.”

Christy smiled at Anthony. “Christian has a lot more hair than Slade, blue eyes and of course, the scowl. Just like the Beast.”

Anthony stifled a laugh.

“How about I call Autumn? I’m sure she’d be more than happy to hang at the house for a couple of hours.” Christy nodded toward their home which sat up on a knoll a good distance away from Anthony’s workshop.

Daisy liked Autumn, who did occasional babysitting for the family. She started jumping up and down and singing, “Autumn’s coming! Autumn’s coming!”

“Well, first I have to see if she can, honey,” Christy said. She had a feeling Autumn would be available. She always jumped at any chance to bump into Christian. Autumn had recently moved to the neighborhood. She was also in a couple of Christian’s classes and had made quick work of showing up at their front door to introduce herself and offer babysitting services after discovering she lived near the Bears. Despite her obvious crush on Christian, Autumn was good with Daisy, and Daisy liked her.

“Shouldn’t you go back to the hospital, instead of helping me in here?” Anthony inquired. “Doesn’t Ginny need you?” The concern in his voice was one of warmth and sincerity.

Christy shook her head. “We’re all going in shifts. I’m heading back tonight.”

Ginny’s family had recently suffered a tragedy and if Christy was honest, she welcomed the distraction of cleaning out Anthony’s shop to keep her mind focused elsewhere for a bit.

Anthony watched his girls as they walked hand in hand back to the house and he reflected on their new life in Fort Lauderdale.

The Bears had moved to the east coast of Florida just over a year ago. It wasn’t just because Slade had been adamant about pursuing a career in law, but also because it was obvious that Christian had been leaning toward a life of crime. And just like Christy had told Anthony six years earlier, Christian’s hot-headed temper would get him in trouble. And it had.

So, they’d moved to give both of their sons a new start in a new city. Slade, because they didn’t want the stigma of Anthony’s notoriety on the opposite coast to taint his future career, and Christian, because he’d been getting into serious trouble. The thought of one brother who might have to put another behind bars one day was too much for Christy to handle and so the decision had been made. Unfortunately, the change of scenery and new friends did nothing to squelch sixteen-year-old Christian’s tendency for acting out and he’d already spent some time in juvie.

The buzzing of Anthony’s cell phone broke through his thoughts and after a quick conversation with the person on the other end, Anthony laid the phone down and contemplated how much to tell Christy, and immediately decided against it. It would only upset her. He would meet with the person who called just to prove it was a prank. The voice sounded familiar, but since it was impossible, he would meet at the designated place and make short work out of rearranging the guy’s face for perpetrating such a hoax in the midst of Ginny’s recent tragedy.

Two hours later, Anthony and Christy, who’d been working in companionable silence, approached the last box. It was heavy. Christy popped open the top and started digging out some long-forgotten tools, handing them to Anthony who was finding a place for them.

“What’s this?” Christy asked.

Anthony turned and saw Christy, who’d been sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding up something he’d made for her years ago and never given to her.

“It’s a tiara,” he said, as he walked toward her.

“I can see that.” She smirked. “It’s super heavy.”

“Well, it is made of iron,” he answered sardonically.

She carefully inspected it, turning it around in her hands. Without looking at him she asked, “Why did you make it and how come I’ve never seen it?”

He crouched down next to her and with one hand resting on a knee, he told her, “I made it for you, Owani. A long time ago.”

“It’s beautiful, Anthony. How come you never gave it to me?” she asked.

“I was going to give it to you after you accepted my marriage proposal. Remember the first time I asked you? On the beach?” He paused. “When you said ‘no’?”

Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a silent “oh.” “A tiara for a princess?” she asked, looking at him sideways and giving him a sweet smile.

“No,” he answered firmly. “A tiara for a queen.” He reached for it and took it out of her hands. “I could’ve bought you a real one filled with diamonds, but it wouldn’t have conveyed what I was trying to express at that time.”

“What was it you were trying to convey?” she asked, her tone sincere.

“That even though you deserved a life of ease and luxury befitting a queen, life with me would be anything but. If you’d accepted my proposal that day on the beach, you would be accepting a life that carried a heavy weight with it. Hence, an iron tiara.”

She stood then and pulled him up with her. Taking the tiara from his hand she laid it on his workbench, and turned around to face him.

“Don’t you realize that life with you has been anything but heavy, Anthony? It hasn’t been a weight. As a matter of fact, it’s been the opposite. Your patience in the beginning and the love you’ve shown me every single day since then has saved me. And if you hadn’t sought out Valerie, I don’t know where I’d be today. You relieved me of a weight, a burden that was far heavier than anything I could’ve ever experienced being with you. Your love for me prompted you to seek out the only person that could provide answers. It was right after your talk with Kit. Do you remember?”

“Of course, I remember, Owani,” he replied. “How could I forget?”

Anthony took Kit's advice, and upon returning to Naples immediately sought the one person who might possibly shed some light on the deep-rooted pain that Christy refused to share with him. He glanced around the tastefully furnished living room. French Provincial wouldn’t have been his first or even his tenth choice for furniture, but it seemed to fit the woman who sat in front of him.

Valerie was an attractive older woman who possessed an air of formality without a hint of snobbery. She wore her silver hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her perfect makeup enhanced her eyes. They were light brown and exuded intelligence, warmth and sincerity. He immediately liked her.

It was an unusually cool Thursday morning in South Florida, and instead of wearing the satiny or sparkly sweat suits of most retired women, she was wearing a smart pale pink fitted jacket with a matching skirt that came to just above her knees. A crisp white blouse enhanced the string of pearls she wore around her neck and the matching earrings that dangled from her earlobes. Her short brown legs were tanned and the high heels she wore showcased her slim calves. She crossed one leg over the other, wrapping both manicured hands around one knee and asked Anthony if he was certain that he didn’t want a refreshment. When he declined, she leaned back and asked, “What exactly would you like to know?”

It took him almost thirty minutes to explain why he was there and during that time, she gave him her full attention. She didn’t interrupt once, and her expression didn’t change when he told her some of the more sordid parts of his story. However, he did detect a genuine hint of sadness whenever Christy’s name was mentioned.

She uncrossed her legs and scooted to the edge of the couch. “Your suspicions are absolutely correct. Van was most definitely the father of Christy’s child. He was a despicable human being. I never liked him and was never able to grasp what Bobbi saw in him. And I never thought he was good enough for Vivian. Christy’s mother wasn’t always a pill-popping drunk, you know? She was a bright and vibrant, beautiful young woman with a good future. But Bobbi had to stick her nose in. She did that. Always manipulating a situation to make it appear as if it was in the person’s best interest when it was solely in hers. She didn’t know how to mind her own beeswax. Never did.”

She missed the hint of a smile from Anthony. Now he knew where Christy had come up with that silly term.

She sat back and told him, “That’s some story you told me, Mr. Bear.

“Anthony,” he interrupted. “Call me Anthony.”

“Do you want me to tell you the parts that are right and the parts that are wrong, Anthony?”

“I want you to tell me everything,” he stated.

“Bobbi Bowen wasn’t just a savvy and intelligent businesswoman. She was a highly manipulative and vicious one as well. Success didn’t make her grateful. It only fueled her penchant for the need to win. It was almost as if she became addicted to control.” Valerie stared past Anthony. “And that need to control ultimately ruined her only child’s life. And I don’t need to tell you how that trickled down on to both Richard and Christy.”

“How did Bobbi ruin Vivian’s life?” Anthony asked.

“By denying her the only man Vivian ever loved.” Returning her gaze to Anthony, Valerie shifted in her chair and adjusted her jacket. “Vivian used to come to the dealership every day after school. When she was in her senior year, she started a romance with a mechanic. His name was Patrick Slade, and he was a nice young man. He used to bring her daisies, and when Bobbi caught wind of it, she fired him and forbade Vivian from seeing him.” She paused, and then added with a sneer, “She told Vivian that daisies were a poor man’s flower and she wouldn’t have it. It was all about appearances, and there was no way Bobbi Bowen’s daughter would end up with a lowly mechanic. Especially not after all her hard work to establish the successful dealerships. And, it just so happened that Bobbi was dealing with a little situation of her own at the time. She was having an affair with a young salesman, and people were starting to gossip. You know who I’m talking about, right?”

“Van?” Anthony asked.

Valerie nodded. “There was a big age difference. Bobbi preferred younger lovers, and we both know that Van did too. In other words, Bobbi was too old for his taste, but it was good for his career, so he was a more than willing participant.” She smoothed her hair. “It was then that she came up with a malicious and absurd plan. She convinced Van to marry her daughter, telling him that he only had to sleep with Vivian long enough to get her pregnant so Bobbi would have an heir. She convinced him they would still be lovers and she would continue to ensure his career advancement, but him marrying her daughter would kill two birds with one stone. It would stop the gossip about her and Van and ensure that Vivian didn’t marry her mechanic boyfriend.” Shaking her head, Valerie continued, “Van wooed Vivian for a short time, just long enough to make it look real, and Vivian, just coming off the heartbreak of losing her boyfriend, fell hard for him. Keep in mind, she had no idea about her mother’s dalliance, and if she’d heard the gossip, she probably convinced herself it wasn’t true.”

Valerie paused, and Anthony could see her eyes starting to mist over. “Vivian confided in me that Van never touched her again after she told him she was pregnant.” She sniffled and reached for a tissue box on the side table. “And so, Richard was born, Van and Bobbi’s affair eventually fizzled out, and poor Vivian was stuck with that sorry excuse for a human being.”

The implication of what Valerie had just revealed sent a jolt of shock through Anthony, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from interrupting.

She blew her nose before continuing. “Vivian was a good mother to Richard despite the charade of a marriage and Van’s numerous affairs.”

“Why didn’t she divorce him?” Anthony interrupted.

“Because Bobbi wouldn’t allow it. Like I said, it was all about keeping up appearances,” she continued, using air quotes for emphasis. “And besides, this was way before he started gambling and using drugs so he wasn’t blowing through the money. And as far as keeping it in his pants? Bobbi didn’t care one whit about whether he was cheating on Vivian. After all, she’d still slept with Van after he’d married her only child.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. He may have been a lot of things. A thief, a loan shark, a money launderer. A murderer. But one thing he wasn’t was disloyal to his woman. He caught a scent of something sweet and fresh and noticed a bowl of fruit on the kitchen table. It reminded him of sunshine. And Christy.

“Fast forward about five years and guess who shows back up at the dealerships looking for a job?” Before Anthony could answer, Valerie said, “Vivian’s first love. Patrick Slade. Enough time had passed, and nobody noticed or cared when he was rehired. And then it happened. Vivian showed up unexpectedly to pick up a new car for herself, and…”

“She saw Patrick,” Anthony concluded.

“And they started having an affair. And Vivian got pregnant,” Valerie continued.

“Christy isn’t Van Chapman’s daughter,” Anthony said in a calm voice. He looked relieved as he scrubbed his hand down his face.

“I’m sure you can guess the rest,” Valerie prodded. When Anthony didn’t reply, she added, “Van obviously knew Christy wasn’t his and Bobbi knew Van had stopped sleeping with Vivian years earlier. She ran the mechanic off again before any gossip started that the perfect family wasn’t exactly perfect.”

Anthony shook his head.

“And when Vivian should’ve been taking care of her son and new baby girl, she started self-medicating instead. And it only got sadder after that.” Valerie’s face was downcast and she dabbed at a corner of her eye. As if catching herself, she sniffled and sat up straighter. “Vivian stopped caring. Thank goodness she had the presence of mind to hire a nanny. Litzy loved those children. Especially Christy.”

Anthony stared at Valerie while she composed herself.

She slowly shook her head and continued, “As God is my witness, I never thought he’d go after that poor child. He knew she wasn’t his biological daughter, but she was still his stepdaughter. She was raised thinking Van was her father.” Looking thoughtful, she added, “But maybe somebody who is a product of real incest doesn’t see having sex with their underage stepdaughter as incestual.”

Anthony frowned in disbelief. “Van was a result of an incestual relationship?” he asked, unable to mask his surprise.

“Van's parents were brother and sister," Valerie replied directly, leaving no question.

"Does Christy know?" Anthony asked in a low voice.

Valerie nodded. "Bobbi told me she'd confronted Van in his office. After he stormed out, she found Christy hiding in the closet. So, yes, Christy knows. She was young, so whether she remembers it or not, I can't say."

This explained a lot. Christy definitely remembers, Anthony thought.

Valerie folded her hands in her lap before continuing. "Anyway, when Bobbi found out Van's family secret, she didn't like it. As always, she was able to sweep it under the rug." A beat passed. “Until he got Christy pregnant.”

Anthony sat straight up. “Bobbi knew that Van got Christy pregnant?”

“I don’t remember how she found out, but when she did, she went ballistic. She realized then that she’d been wrong in her hasty attempt all those years earlier to keep Van around by marrying him off to her daughter, thereby ruining Vivian’s relationship with Patrick Slade in the process. Christy’s pregnancy is when Bobbi finally came to her senses and she decided it was time to get Van out of the picture without burying him. She wanted to avoid a family scandal for Christy’s sake and so she was going to use the auto theft ring to bring Van down.”

Anthony’s eyes widened.

“I know who you are and what you do with the automobiles, Anthony. Right before she died she was going to call in a tip on her own dealership and have it all lead back to Van.” She smiled at him knowingly. “Sorry, but you would’ve been collateral damage.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes. “You know about the auto theft ring?”

“Who do you think set it up?” She smiled.

“Why haven’t you called in a tip of your own?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. He was feeling somewhat grateful that Bobbi’s death had allowed him to dodge a bullet.

“I would have if Bobbi’s autopsy showed any signs of foul play. I would’ve assumed someone involved in the ring figured out what she was going to do and offed her. When the results showed that she wasn’t murdered, I didn’t pursue it.” She raised her chin.

“Christy told me that Vivian had Bobbi cremated before an autopsy was done,” he replied. He couldn’t hide his skepticism.

“C’mon, Anthony. You as well as anyone with your background and connections knows that anything can be bought. Since Vivian didn’t authorize an examination of Bobbi’s remains, I had to find someone who would handle it before the cremation. The only person who received a copy of those results was me.” Seconds ticked by. “Bobbi Bowen died of a brain aneurysm.”

The room grew quiet as the two stared at each other. It was a lot of information, and Anthony was digesting it when Valerie spoke.

“Yes, Bobbi really died of an aneurysm. Unlike Van’s heart attack on the toilet.” She gave him a knowing smile. “I was always disappointed in the fact that he left this world so easily. I find comfort in knowing that certain people aren’t afraid to do what’s right. That they know how to take things into their own hands.”

She knows, he thought. She knows, and she approves. He liked her even more than he’d originally thought. He gave a faint nod, and without breaking from his gaze, Valerie added, “And you know the rest.”

Yes, he knew the rest. He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees. Looking at the floor, he asked, “Did Vivian know that Abby was Van’s child?”

“Probably. But I honestly don’t know,” came Valerie’s soft response.

He looked up, and his expression startled Valerie. His eyes had somehow gotten darker, and he leveled a severe look at her. “Did it ever occur to you to tell Christy when she got pregnant that Van wasn’t her father?”

Valerie relaxed then. “I didn’t have to, Anthony. Bobbi assured me that she was going to tell Christy before the baby was born.” As if a light bulb went off, her face softened, and he saw honest regret in her eyes when she said, “Unless Bobbi died before she told her. Oh no. That never occurred to me. That poor girl has suffered all this time thinking that she gave birth to her father’s child. I’m so sorry, Anthony.”

He knew she was telling the truth and didn’t press her. He’d heard everything he needed to hear. He would go home and share it all with Christy. She didn't only have the right to know, she needed to know. He stood and thanked Valerie for her time. As an afterthought, he noticed her left hand and the absence of a ring.

“So, what about you? With all the drama of the Bowens and Chapmans, you ever settle down? Have a family of your own?”

She stood too and looked wistful. “I only ever had eyes for one person and even though we were together, I always played second fiddle in public. And I was okay with that.”

“Seems like you should’ve demanded more, Valerie,” he told her. His voice held a tone of warmth she hadn’t expected.

“It was a different time. People like me had to keep who we loved hidden. Especially who I loved.”

She smiled when his expression changed from one of bewilderment to one of recognition.

“I was just out of high school when Bobbi hired me and like I told you before, she liked them young. I consider myself lucky that she kept me around. We were together up until she died.”

Christy leaned back against Anthony’s workbench. “I know you’ve always thought that we were mismatched. That I was too good to be with you. You never said it, other than your occasional heiress and criminal comments, but I’ve seen it in your eyes and I’ve always thought the complete opposite. I considered my dysfunctional background and my old hang-ups as being the weight in our marriage.”

“I’m a bad man, Christy. You know that. It carries a weight no matter how you try to spin it.”

She looked away and said, “And you know I’m not completely innocent, Anthony. You know what I’ve done.” She turned back to his workbench and fiddled with the tiara. “How long did you tell me it took you to figure it out?” she asked.

“I don’t remember,” he answered. “Just that it was before I went to see Valerie. I remember being impressed that she knew and approved of it.”

With her back to him, Christy continued, “I remember talking with Ginny years ago and telling her I envied her conscience. Grizz tried to protect her from the things he did because she was so sensitive.” She scoffed before adding, “I always thought it was kind of sad that he never had the chance to give up his life of crime to prove his love. And you made that same offer to me, and I didn’t want you to. Crazy, huh?” She didn’t expect him to answer.

She swung around and gave him a level look. “I was in the bathroom and heard you the night you cut off that man’s head at the Glades Motel. I didn’t flinch once. When you told me that you tortured and murdered the man who tried to rape me at your camp, you could’ve been telling me you just changed the oil in your truck. Not to mention all the things you’ve done over the years that I’ve known about.”

“So, what are you trying to say, Christy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just trying to let you know that marrying you wasn’t the burden you think it was. To an outsider, we’ve always looked like opposites. You know, the criminal and the heiress?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “The Jolly Green Giant and the little sprout,” she laughed. “But I think we were more alike back then than we realized. And we’ve changed for the better.”

“Well, at least you have,” he told her. He smiled at her then. Not a small smile, but one that was so wide it made his dimple look like a cavern.

She approached him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Looking up into his eyes, she added, “You didn’t kill Ben Diamond when you had the chance.”

“Don’t give me too much credit, Owani,” he corrected. “I didn’t kill him, but I messed him up good. Then I realized that death would’ve been too merciful. So, I consigned him to a fate that I thought was worse than death. I left him in prison with Grizz. I’m sure his life was torture for the five years that led up to Grizz’s death. Maybe even still is since Grizz had so many loyal followers in prison.”

“You were given a chance to do the right thing by not killing him, Anthony, and you took it,” she said into his shirt.

“I didn’t let him live because killing him would’ve been wrong. I haven’t found the…what do you call it?” He paused. “I haven’t found the moral compass that you found.”

“And having children hasn’t changed you?” she asked without looking up.

“Of course it has, Owani. It’s made me more cautious, but that’s about it. I have a wife and family to consider now. Just because I chose not to kill Ben Diamond doesn’t mean I wasn’t capable of it,” he told her, his voice hard. “That I’m not still capable of it.” Anthony may have walked away from Camp Sawgrass, loansharking and his other criminal activities, but he’d stayed well connected. He was just less visible due to his family life.

As if not hearing him, she said, “If I could go back and change—”

He knew what she was going to say and he shushed her. “It’s okay, baby,” he said.

“I tried to fix it, make it right, but it was too late. There was no going back.” Her voice was barely a whisper, and she hugged him tighter. “A deal was a deal and no amount of money could reverse what I’d done.”

“The fact that you tried is what matters, Christy,” he said as he softly stroked her hair. He decided it was time to change the subject, so he pulled back and, looking down into her face, he said, “Maybe we should save the iron tiara for the woman who Christian falls in love with. I have a feeling she’ll need it.” He gave a nod toward his workbench.

Already knowing the girl who held Christian’s heart, Christy replied in a lighter tone, “You might be right, but I’m pretty sure she’ll be coming into her own soon. I have no doubt that she’ll be strong enough to handle Christian without the tiara.”

Her face got serious then and she said, “I remember when I used to look into your eyes and was afraid because I didn’t think I could see anything. It was so hard to read you back then.”

“And now, Owani?” he asked, his voice tender.

“Now, I see myself in your eyes. You’re the better half of my soul, Anthony,” Christy told him, her eyes misty.

“You have it backwards, honey. You’re the better half of this marriage.”

He took her face in his hands and looked down into her eyes. “Two hearts connected by strands of gold. My heart you will always hold. Safe by my side, you will always be. My forever love, you belong to me.” He tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear. “Not bad for an eight-year-old,” he teased as fond memories of Nisha’s game warmed his heart.

“When did you know you loved me, Anthony? Was it the day you took me from Vivian’s bedroom?” she asked, breathlessly. “Or the day you made the iron tiara?”

“No, Owani. It wasn’t the day I took you.”

She looked at him sideways, her eyes bright.

“It was the day I knew I needed to own your heart forever.” He kissed her tenderly on the forehead. Pulling back, he gave her a mischievous wink. “The same day I decided that you belonged to me.”