It was enough.
It was truly enough.
The revenge could wait. The clues could be tracked down later. Harold Chapman could be hunted another day.
But if he broke himself completely and lost the people right in front of him, what would be the point of winning the world?
The rain continued to pour, showing no signs of stopping.
The world was a blur of hazy white.
Those long seconds stretched out like a century.
Finally—
Alex slowly pulled his hovering foot back.
He turned around, his gaze never once straying back up the mountain, and walked step by step back to Danielle's side.
He reached out, taking her freezing hand and wrapping it tightly within his own, using his body heat to warm her.
His voice was low, raspy, laced with exhaustion, surrender, and the deep gratitude of someone who had just saved what mattered most.
"...Let's go back to the hotel."
Danielle's head snapped up.
Her eyes instantly flushed red as tears mixed with the rain rolling down her face.
She didn't speak; she only gave a firm nod.
Alex bent down, scooping Niki up with one arm and taking Raffy's hand with his other. Then, freeing up his hand, he wrapped his arm tightly around Danielle's shoulders, shielding her against his chest as they made their way down the mountain to the car.
The storm raged on, and the mountain path was slick and treacherous.
But this time, he didn't look back up the mountain once.
His world was no longer consumed solely by the hunt and his hatred.
It now held the woman in his arms, the children at his side, and a family that needed him to come home safe.
Outside the car, the rain fell in a chaotic frenzy.
Inside the cabin, it was quiet, yet warm.

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