Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom novel Chapter 432

Her eyelids grew heavy, and before long, she drifted off to sleep.

Several hours later, the car glided quietly into Northcrest City.

Still fast asleep, Claire only began to stir when someone gently lifted her. As she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Mr. Tempest’s handsome face looming close, his features soft with affection.

“Is Claire awake?” Mr. Tempest murmured, pausing mid-motion as he tried to cradle her gently in his arms. He moved with such care, as if afraid even the slightest jostle might wake her—but, despite his efforts, Claire was already awake.

A flicker of disappointment crossed Mr. Tempest’s mind. Why did she have to wake up so soon?

His brand-new daughter looked so adorably small and soft, like a marshmallow. He imagined how wonderful it would feel to hold her—so different from his eldest son, who was all angles and stubbornness and not the least bit cuddly.

Just as he reached for another chance to snuggle his precious girl, Claire sat up and, ever the polite child, held up a tiny hand to stop him.

“Daddy, I can walk by myself.”

With that, Claire hopped out of the car, beaming up at Mr. Tempest with a bright, expectant smile, as if to say, Look at me, Dad! Aren’t I amazing?

Mr. Tempest blinked, caught between laughter and resignation. So much for hugging his sweet daughter.

He mustered a chuckle. “Amazing. Our Claire is the best.”

He took her left hand, while Mrs. Tempest clasped her right.

Hand in hand, the three of them strolled toward the villa, radiating the warmth of a perfectly happy family.

Trailing behind, all but forgotten, was Orion, his small face set in a serious expression as he trudged after them.

Suddenly, Claire glanced back. “Come on, Orion! Don’t fall behind!”

A spark lit up Orion’s eyes. The tight line of his mouth softened ever so slightly into a shy smile.

He knew it—his little sister would never forget him.

Claire couldn’t help but think back to her first day at the Linwood house. They hadn’t even bothered to prepare a room for her.

She’d chosen the first room, only to be told by Ethan that it would be his study. The second room? Reserved for Vanessa’s music lessons. The attic? “That’s embarrassing,” Ethan had scoffed.

In the end, they’d shoved her into a tiny, windowless storage closet that smelled of mildew.

Now, looking at the effort and love poured into her princess-themed room, Claire couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

Mrs. Tempest saw her crying and hurried over, flustered. “Claire, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Is it the room? If you don’t like it, we can change everything—anything you want.”

Claire shook her head, voice trembling. “No, I love it. I’ve never had a room this beautiful before.”

She threw her arms around Mrs. Tempest’s neck.

“Thank you, Mom,” she whispered.