З життя
Victor Gregory kept such a close eye on Oleg that he never even noticed. And no wonder—Victor had spent years in the right positions; he was a true professional!

Victor Gregson watched Oliver without him noticing. Small wonderVictor had spent years in his line of work; he was a professional. So far, nothing suspiciousOliver hadnt brought anyone home, hadnt acted out of the ordinary. But Victor wasnt fooled. He knew patience would pay off. Oliver would slip up eventually. His gut had never failed him before.
This mattered deeplyit was personal. His family was at stake. He remembered when little Eleanor was born. At first, hed been disappointed she wasnt a son. Hed never let it show, but the thought gnawed at hima girl! Him, a respected man, and now a daughter instead of a boy to carry his name. Who would he share a quiet pint with when life weighed heavy? Who would he teach, shape into a proper man?
But thenoh, thenshe had him wrapped around her tiny finger. The first time she grinned up at him, pudgy fingers grabbing his nose, he was done for. When she took her first wobbly steps, then suddenly lit up and ran, squealing, “Daddy! Daddy!”he caught her, held her tight. In that moment, he knew: her happiness was everything. His little girl, his shining starno one would ever hurt her.
Lydia would laugh. “Victor, you spoil us!” And he didbuying gifts, basking in their joy.
Yet somehow, Eleanor had grown up overnight. Wasnt it just yesterday she clutched his hand on the walk to nursery, tilting her head back to beam, “Daddy, youre so tall! Will you buy me a teddy?” Now shed finished school, started university part-time, landed a job. “Dad, its time I stood on my own feet,” shed said. Hed never been prouder.
Then came the blow. Lydia baked a cake, eyes twinkling with secrets. Victor thought maybe his girls wanted somethingnew dresses, perhaps. But no. “Dad,” Eleanor began, brushing invisible dust off his shoulder, “theres someone Id like you to meet. Dont fuss. Olivers lovely. Were thinking of getting engaged.”
His throat went dry as Lydia ushered Oliver in. “Evening! Im Lydia. This is Eleanors father, Victor.” He shook the lads hand, but inside, something howled. This stranger was taking his girl away.
A voice of reason whispered: *Isnt this what you wanted for her? Hes decent, strongwhat, did you expect her to stay forever?*
Victor ignored it. Oliver wasnt good enough. Full stop. So he did what he did besthe watched.
For weeks, he tailed Oliver after work, waiting for a slip. What if he had another woman? What if
Then he saw it. A woman with a little girl met Oliver at his flat. He kissed her, took her bag, led the child inside. *Got you.*
Yet part of him liked the boysaw himself in Olivers easy grin. Maybe he was wrong.
Eleanor burst in the next day. “Dad, the weddings in a week! We booked the venue!” He couldnt bring himself to speak. Shame curdled in his gutuntil she added, “Olivers parents arrive tomorrow. His sister Natalie and her daughter came earlyher husbands away on business.”
At the wedding, Victor spun Lydia across the floor like a young man. Enough suspicion. Life wasnt work.
A year later, Eleanor gave him a grandson*little Arthur*. The moment the boy was placed in his arms, Victor wept. Dreams hed buried years ago bloomed anew. Now he had someone to pass everything toa son in Oliver, a grandson to dote on.
As for the surveillance? That secret hed take to the grave.
Lifes joy was trustand he meant to cherish it.
