Elara's heart clenched. She watched the man's eyes darken,
his sharp features tightening as he pressed his thin lips together.
The silence stretched for four… five agonising seconds
before he finally spoke.
"Julian is one of the reasons," he admitted, his
voice low.
A cold weight settled in Elara's stomach. So, it was true.
"Then what are the others?" she pressed, her voice barely a whisper.
"Mm," he nodded, a soft, almost weary sigh
escaping him as he took in the pale, grave look on her face. He reached out,
his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of her cheek.
"I didn't tell you because I was afraid it would scare
you. You'd be nervous, looking over your shoulder everywhere you go. The babies
are less than three months old. It's a twin pregnancy, Elara. I won't take any
chances with your safety, or theirs." His touch was feather-light, a stark
contrast to the steel in his voice. "Keeping this a secret, for now, is
how I protect you."
Elara understood the logic, but her mind raced. What else
could possibly be a bigger concern than his unhinged brother?
Silas's fingertips gently brushed the corner of her eye,
where worry had etched a faint line. He didn't hesitate.
"Elly," he began, his voice dropping to an
intimate, raw timbre. "I need you to understand something. Until you got
pregnant… I was convinced I was infertile."
Infertile?
Elara's breath hitched. The spot where his fingers had been
felt like it was burning. For a moment, her mind went completely blank.
Then, the implication crashed down on her. Her eyes widened
in panic, a flush of heat and confusion rising to her cheeks.
"Then… how did I get pregnant?" The words tumbled
out, stumbling over each other. "The babies are yours! They have to be! I
haven't been with anyone else—I would never—"
Her voice broke as her eyes stung with sudden, unshed tears.
She bit her lip, a mix of hurt and defiance flashing in her gaze.
"I know," he said, his voice impossibly soft. The
sight of her distress seemed to shatter his cool composure. In one swift
motion, he pulled her into his arms, his large hand cradling the back of her
head, tucking her safely against his shoulder. "I have never doubted that
for a second. I know they are mine, Elara. I know it."
The firm certainty in his voice stilled her slight struggle.
She let herself lean into him, closing her eyes against the rough fabric of his
shirt, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent. The inexplicable surge of
emotion receded, soothed by his embrace.
If he was infertile, how was this possible? Unless…
Her eyes snapped open. A terrifying thought crystallised in
her mind. She pulled back from his arms, her expression deadly serious.
"Your family… they all thought you couldn't have
children, too, didn't they?"
"Mm," he confirmed, his gaze intense as he
carefully tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"This matter… it's complicated. It involves things I'm
still untangling. I have Ethan investigating it. But until I have all the
answers, until I know who I can trust, no one can know you're pregnant.
Especially not my family. Do you understand?"
A cold dread trickled down her spine. Mansion secrets. Power
struggles. Bloodline disputes. It all sounded like a thriller novel, but it was
her life now.
"Oh god," she whispered, a new fear gripping her.
"But I already told Chloe. My best friend."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.
"I know. You trust her, so I trust your judgment. Just ask her to keep the
secret. She will."
Elara nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. At least
she hadn't jeopardised everything.
His words painted a dark picture. Why did he believe he was
infertile? What was Ethan investigating? He was hiding the truth of his
fertility from his own family because if they knew… if they knew he could
produce an heir—heirs—then her children would become targets.
Was it just Julian? Or the calculating Old Lady Thorne? Or
was there someone else lurking in the shadows, someone she hadn't even met yet?
She felt his silent sigh more than heard it as she dropped
her gaze, lost in the terrifying possibilities.
"Is there anything else you want to ask me?" he
murmured.
She looked up, and their eyes locked. His were deep, dark
pools of resolve, yet they held a warmth that was meant only for her. She could
see the unspoken weight he carried, the heavy past he shielded her from. She
knew, with a sinking certainty, that he wouldn't tell her everything. Not yet.
In that case, she needed just one answer. The only one that
truly mattered.
"Will you protect me? Protect the two children?"
she asked, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. "If one day… if
you're ever forced to choose between Julian and our children… what then?"
Silas went perfectly still for a fraction of a second. Then,
he took both of her hands in his, lifting them to his lips. He pressed a kiss
to her knuckles—a kiss so reverent and solemn it felt like a vow.
"Look at me, Elara," he commanded softly, his eyes
holding hers captive. "That day will never come. I will make sure of it.
Julian is my responsibility to handle. But you…" His gaze dropped to her
stomach, then back to her eyes, blazing with fierce protectiveness. "You
and these babies are my life. I will guard you with everything I am. With my
last breath if I must."
Elara's heart stuttered in her chest. Guard you with my
life. The words echoed, profound and terrifying and beautiful all at once. He
had said them so simply, so directly, disarming her completely and forging a
new, unbreakable bond between them.
The next morning, Elara woke to the insistent vibration of
her phone on the bedside table. Blinking sleep from her eyes, she saw it was
Sharon, her team leader at Aeternum Inc.
Assuming it was about her internship suspension, she quickly
answered, her voice still husky with sleep. "Sharon, good morning. I know
I need to submit the suspension forms, I just need a day or two—"
"No, no, don't worry about that!" Sharon's voice
was bright and cheerful, almost giddy. "HR has already sorted everything
out. Consider it handled! Your position is safe, just focus on taking care of
yourself. Take all the time you need, honey."
Elara's tension melted away. Silas had kept his promise,
effortlessly smoothing the path for her. "Thank you so much, Sharon.
Please send my love to the team. I miss everyone and hope to be back with you
all soon."
She hung up, a small, genuine smile gracing her lips. She'd
had a dream last night—a magpie, a bird of good news, had lingered outside her
window. She'd fed it, and it had only left once its belly was full. Maybe it
was a sign.
Maybe she really could trust him.
A message notification popped up. It was from Chloe, buzzing
with excitement about a new commission she'd just landed.
Elara typed back a congratulations, then, after a moment's
hesitation, added: [Chloe, I'm pregnant. I need you to keep this our absolute
secret, okay?]
Chloe's reply was instant: [What pregnancy? I see nothing, I
know nothing!]
Elara chuckled softly.
[But seriously, when can I see you? Lunch? Dinner? I need
details!]
Elara thought for a second. [Not today. Soon, I promise.]
Today was for her grandfather. For claiming what was hers.
[Hahaha, okay, but I'm holding you to that! I'll call you to
set it up soon, Mrs. Thorne]
Even through text, Elara could feel Chloe's playful wink.
She smiled, locking her phone. It was after eight. Despite crashing before ten
last night, the deep, bone-tired fatigue of the first trimester still clung to
her. She placed a hand on her still-flat stomach.
"Be good for Mommy, okay?" she whispered.
But the solace was short-lived. Silas's revelations from
yesterday cast a long shadow. Three months would fly by. What would they do if
his secrets weren't resolved by the time she started showing? Confronting his
family was inevitable.
A new resolve hardened within her. For her children, she
couldn't just hide behind Silas. She had to be strong, too.
At ten sharp, Elara walked into the offices of Johnson &
Johnson Law Firm, Silas a solid, imposing presence at her side.
Her uncle's family was already there, lying in wait like
vultures circling a soon-to-be carcass. They spun around, their faces a comical
mask of surprise that quickly morphed into varying degrees of dread and
hostility. Bianca, in particular, looked like she'd swallowed a lemon, her gaze
flicking fearfully to Silas before darting away.
"Uncle Robert," Elara greeted with cool
politeness, then turned directly to the lawyer. "Mr. Johnson, I'm here.
I'm married now, which satisfies the final condition of my grandfather's
will."
Mr. Johnson's professional demeanour had faltered the moment
Silas entered the room. The lawyer was used to powerful clients, but the man
beside Elara exuded a different kind of authority—cold, ancient, and utterly
intimidating. It was the quiet, dangerous aura of true power that didn't need
to announce itself.
He cleared his throat, collecting himself. "I see. And
this is your husband?" At Elara's nod, he turned, as protocol demanded, to
Robert Hayes. "Mr. Robert, as the other designated party, do you affirm
this? Do you acknowledge that the conditions have been met?"
All eyes swivelled to Robert, slumped in his wheelchair.
The air grew thick and heavy. Silas didn't move, didn't
speak. He simply fixed his ghost-light eyes on Robert, his expression
chillingly neutral. Yet the unspoken threat was palpable, a silent promise of
ruin that sucked the oxygen from the room.
Robert's knuckles turned white where he gripped the arms of
his chair. He looked from his niece's determined face to the terrifyingly calm
man beside her. He knew, in that moment, he had lost.
He gave a tight, almost imperceptible nod. "Yes,"
he gritted out, the word tasting like ash. "The conditions are met."