My father stayed in a guest room on the opposite side of the mansion from where Damien had been.
It felt strange having him there—this man who'd once commanded an empire now quietly reading in the library, helping Eleanor with dishes, asking permission to hold his granddaughter.
"You don't have to ask," I told him on the third day. "She's your granddaughter."
"I know," my father said. "But I don't want to presume. I haven't earned the right to just... be family. Not after everything."
He was different. Prison had humbled him in a way I'd never seen. The arrogant businessman who'd dismissed my pain was gone, replaced by a careful, uncertain man who moved through the mansion like a guest rather than its former patriarch.
"We should talk about the Hart Empire," I said one evening over dinner. Just the two of us, while Sofia slept upstairs.
My father set down his fork. "What about it?"
"The board wants to know what's happening. With you on probation, you can't run the company. Marcus is in prison. Victoria has no interest in business. That leaves me."
"You want to take over?" my father asked.
"I don't know what I want," I admitted. "Six months ago, I was nobody. Now I'm married to a criminal, separated, raising a baby, and apparently the heir to a corrupt empire. I don't know if I want any of it."
"You could sell," my father suggested. "Liquidate the assets. Walk away clean."
"Is that what you want?" I asked.
"What I want doesn't matter anymore," my father said quietly. "I built that company on corruption and lies. Marcus was right about one thing—I did terrible things to get where I got. Maybe it's better if the Hart name dies with me."
I studied him across the table. "Do you regret it? The crimes?"
"Yes," my father said without hesitation. "Not because I got caught. Because I hurt people. Because I destroyed lives for profit. Because I became the kind of man who valued money over morality." He paused. "Because I failed you. My own daughter. I chose power over you, and I can never forgive myself for that."
"I'm not sure I can forgive you either," I said honestly. "But I'm willing to try."
My father's eyes filled with tears. "That's more than I deserve."
---
A week after my father's release, I organized a family dinner.
It was Maya's idea. "You need to face them all at once," she said. "Get it over with. See if this family can actually function or if you need to just cut ties completely."
So I invited everyone: My father. My mother, who was out on bail. Victoria. Elena. Even Damien, who was living in an apartment fifteen minutes away and co-parenting Sofia on a careful schedule.
The dining room felt too formal, so I set up dinner in the smaller breakfast room. Casual. Less pressure.
They arrived one by one, each person looking as uncomfortable as I felt.
My mother came first, wearing simple clothes instead of her usual designer outfits, her ankle monitor visible beneath her pants. She hugged me carefully, like she wasn't sure she was allowed.
Victoria arrived next, bringing flowers. "I didn't know if I should bring anything," she said nervously. "I've never done this before. The whole... family dinner thing. Not as someone who actually belongs."
"You belong," I assured her, though I wasn't entirely sure I believed it yet.
Elena came with Damien, who immediately went to check on Sofia before joining us. He looked better than he had a week ago—showered, shaved, wearing clean clothes. But there was a haunted quality to his eyes that hadn't been there before.
My father was the last to enter, and when he saw my mother, they both froze.
"Margaret," he said.
"Richard," she replied.
They'd been separated by prison, by legal proceedings, by the destruction of everything they'd built together. Now they stood in my breakfast room like strangers.
"Should we—" my mother started.
"Sit," I interrupted. "Everyone just sit down. Let's eat."
Dinner was painfully awkward.
We passed dishes in silence. Made comments about the weather. Avoided every topic that actually mattered.
Finally, Sofia started crying upstairs, and Damien stood immediately. "I'll get her."
"I'll come with you," Elena offered, and they escaped together.
That left me alone with my parents and Victoria.
"This is ridiculous," I said, setting down my fork. "We're all pretending like we're strangers when we've destroyed each other's lives. So let's just... talk. Really talk."
"About what?" my mother asked nervously.
"About everything," I said. "About the lies, the betrayals, the pain. About Marcus and Damien and all the ways we've hurt each other. Because if we can't talk about it, then what's the point of this?"
Silence.
Then my father spoke. "I'll start. I committed fraud, bribery, and embezzlement. I destroyed businesses and lives to build my empire. I chose wealth over integrity, and I taught you—" he looked at me, "—that money was more important than family. I failed as a father and as a man. And I'm sorry."
My mother spoke next, her voice shaking. "I enabled every crime Richard committed. I looked the other way because I liked the lifestyle. I chose appearances over honesty. And I failed you, Sophia. I chose Victoria over you because she was easier to love. Because she didn't challenge me the way you did. And I'm sorry."
Victoria was crying now. "I lied about everything. I faked cancer. I stole Ethan. I helped Marcus destroy this family because I was desperate to belong somewhere. I was so afraid of being thrown away that I became someone who deserved to be thrown away. And I'm sorry."
They all looked at me.
"I married a criminal for revenge," I said quietly. "I benefited from his crimes. I lived in luxury built on innocent people's suffering. I let my need for power and justice override my morality. And I brought a baby into this mess—a beautiful, innocent baby who deserves so much better than all of us."
"Sofia deserves better," Elena said, returning with Damien and the baby. "So let's be better."
She placed Sofia in the center of the table in her portable bassinet. We all looked down at this tiny life that connected us all—my daughter, my parents' granddaughter, Victoria's niece, Damien's daughter.
"She's going to grow up knowing all of this," I said. "She's going to know that her grandfather was a criminal. That her father fabricated evidence. That her family destroyed each other. We can't hide it from her."
"So what do we do?" my mother asked.
"We tell her the truth," I said. "When she's old enough. We tell her that people make mistakes. That families are complicated. That everyone she loves will disappoint her sometimes. But we also show her that people can change. That mistakes don't define you forever. That choosing to be better matters."
"Can we do that?" Victoria asked. "Can we actually be better?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "But we can try."
Damien spoke for the first time. "I've spent the last week working with the FBI to identify and overturn wrongful convictions. We've found seven cases so far where innocent people are in prison because of evidence I fabricated. Seven lives I destroyed."
"What happens to them?" Elena asked.
"We're filing appeals. Setting up compensation funds. It'll take years, but we're going to make it right. As right as we can, anyway." He looked at me. "It's not enough. It'll never be enough. But it's something."
"I've been in touch with some of the businesses Richard destroyed," my mother said quietly. "Offering restitution. Apologizing. Most won't even take my calls. But some are willing to discuss settlements."
"I've been volunteering at a women's shelter," Victoria added. "Working with women who've been manipulated and abused. Sharing my story. Helping them see the patterns I didn't see until it was too late."
They were all trying. In their own broken, imperfect ways, they were all trying to be better.
"What about the Hart Empire?" my father asked. "Have you decided?"
I took a deep breath. "I'm going to run it. But not like you did. I'm restructuring everything. Full audits, ethics oversight, transparency. We're going to compensate everyone who was harmed. And we're going to rebuild the company as something legitimate. Something Sofia can actually be proud of one day."
"That will cost millions," my father said. "Maybe bankrupt the company entirely."
"Then it gets bankrupted," I said firmly. "I'm not building her inheritance on blood money. If the Hart Empire can't survive doing things the right way, then it doesn't deserve to survive."
My father smiled—genuinely smiled. "I'm proud of you."
"Don't be," I said. "Not yet. Wait until I've actually done something worth being proud of."
---
After dinner, as everyone was leaving, Damien pulled me aside.
"You're really going to run the company?" he asked.
"Someone has to," I said. "And I'm the only one who can. My father's on probation. My mother's awaiting trial. Marcus is in prison. Victoria has no experience. That leaves me."
"It's going to be a lot of work," Damien said. "Rebuilding a company while raising a baby."
"I know," I said. "But I have help. Elena's moving into the mansion permanently. Maya's cutting back her hours to help with Sofia. Even Victoria's offered to help with childcare."
"And me?" Damien asked carefully. "Where do I fit in this new life you're building?"
I looked at him—this complicated, broken man who I'd loved and hated in equal measure. "You're Sofia's father. You'll always have a place in her life. As for us—" I paused. "Ask me in a year. After therapy. After you've proven you can be the man you're trying to become."
"A year," Damien repeated.
"A year," I confirmed. "And Damien? I need you to actually change. Not just apologize. Not just make grand gestures. Actually become someone different. Someone I can trust."
"I'm trying," he said.
"I know," I said. "That's why I'm giving you the year."
---
That night, I stood in Sofia's nursery watching her sleep, thinking about the family dinner. The apologies. The promises. The tentative hope that we could all become better.
It wouldn't be easy. Trust wasn't rebuilt in a single conversation. Redemption wasn't earned through apologies alone.
But we were all trying.
My father was working to compensate his victims.
My mother was making amends to the families she'd hurt.
Victoria was helping other women avoid her mistakes.
Damien was overturning wrongful convictions.
And I was rebuilding an empire on integrity instead of corruption.
Would it be enough? I didn't know.
But as I watched Sofia sleep peacefully, I made a promise to her: whatever came next, whatever happened with my family or Damien or the company—she would grow up knowing she was loved. That mistakes didn't define her. That she had the power to choose who she became.
The Hart family had been built on lies and revenge.
But Sofia's family—the one I was building now—would be built on truth and redemption.
It wouldn't be perfect.
But it would be real.
And maybe that was enough.