The gates of the Thorne Estate opened like the jaws of a sleeping giant.
Elena sat in the back of the Maybach, her body stiff, her hand clutching Leo's small, warm one. The drive up to the mansion was lined with ancient oaks, their branches arching over the road like a dark canopy. Five years ago, she had fled this place in a taxi, her heart in tatters. Now, she was returning in a cage of gold and carbon fiber.
"Mama, is this a castle?" Leo whispered, his eyes wide as he pressed his nose against the tinted glass. "Are we going to see a dragon?"
Elena's throat tightened. "No, Leo. Just a very big house."
"It belongs to the man, doesn't it?" Leo asked, his voice dropping. "The man with the blue eyes?"
Elena didn't answer. She couldn't. Marcus sat in the front seat, his silhouette dark and imposing. He hadn't said a word since they left the studio, but his presence filled the car like a gathering storm.
When the car came to a halt, Marcus stepped out and opened the door for them. Elena expected him to bark an order, to demand they follow him. Instead, he reached out a hand to help Leo out of the car.
"Watch your step, Leo," Marcus said. His voice was still deep, but the jagged edge of authority had smoothed into something... different.
Leo ignored the hand, jumping out of the car with the boundless energy of a five-year-old. He stood on the gravel driveway, looking up at the massive stone facade of the Thorne Estate. Most grown men trembled in the shadow of this house, but Leo tilted his head.
"It's too gray," Leo announced, his hands on his hips. "You should paint it blue. Like the ocean."
Elena gasped. "Leo! Be polite."
She waited for Marcus to snap. Marcus Thorne didn't tolerate criticism. He didn't tolerate "unprofessional" behavior. But as she looked at him, she saw the impossible. The corner of Marcus's mouth twitched.
"Blue, you think?" Marcus asked, crouching down so he was at eye level with the boy.
It was a staggering sight. The King of Wall Street, whose suits cost more than the average person's yearly salary, was kneeling in the dirt to look a child in the eye.
"Yes," Leo said firmly. "And maybe a dragon on the roof. To guard the gold."
Marcus looked at Leo with an intensity that made Elena's heart ache. He wasn't looking at a liability or a contract. He was looking at his own soul reflected in a pair of five-year-old eyes.
"I'll see what I can do about the dragon," Marcus said softly. He reached out, his large hand hovering near Leo's shoulder as if he were afraid the boy might break. "Would you like to see your room? It has a view of the woods. There are deer that come out at sunset."
"Deer?" Leo's eyes lit up. "Can I pet them?"
"We can try," Marcus promised. He stood up, and for a brief second, his gaze met Elena's. The ice was still there for her—a reminder of the war between them—but the way he looked at Leo was a revelation.
They were led inside, through the grand foyer that Elena remembered all too well. It was just as cold and imposing as the day she left. But as they climbed the stairs to the West Wing, she noticed changes. The "Thorne" family portraits—the grim, dark oil paintings of Marcus's ancestors—had been moved. The hallways felt lighter.
Marcus stopped in front of a set of double doors. "This is yours, Leo."
He pushed the doors open, and Elena's breath caught. It wasn't a guest room. It was a child's paradise. There was a custom-built bed shaped like a ship, shelves filled with every book and toy imaginable, and a massive drafting table stocked with high-end art supplies.
"How... how did you do this?" Elena whispered. "We were only at the studio an hour ago."
"I have people, Elena," Marcus said, his voice returning to that cool, detached tone he reserved for her. "And I've known about Leo for seventy-two hours. That's more than enough time for a Thorne to get what he wants."
Leo let out a shout of joy and ran for the drafting table, immediately grabbing a blue marker.
Elena turned on Marcus, her voice a low hiss so Leo wouldn't hear. "You think you can just buy his love? You think toys and a fancy room make up for the fact that you threw his mother away like trash?"
Marcus's expression hardened. He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. "I didn't know he existed, Elena. You made sure of that. You robbed me of five years. Every first step, every first word... You kept them for yourself."
"I kept him safe!" Elena countered. "I kept him away from your coldness, Marcus. Look at this house. It's a tomb. I didn't want him raised by a man who thinks love is a line item on a spreadsheet."
Marcus grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not painful. "Look at him," he commanded, gesturing toward Leo, who was happily drawing a very blue house on a fresh sheet of paper. "Does he look like he's in a tomb? He is a Thorne. He belongs in a kingdom, not a flower shop."
"I am an architect, Marcus. I built a life—"
"And now you will build my legacy," Marcus interrupted. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "The project starts tomorrow morning. You'll have an office next to mine. You'll be the lead architect on the Plaza. And in the evenings, we will have dinner as a family."
"We are not a family,"Elena spat.
"Leo thinks we are," Marcus said, glancing back at the boy.
As if on cue, Leo looked up from his drawing. "Mama! Look! I drew the man!"
Elena looked at the paper. Leo had drawn three figures. A tall woman with yellow hair, a small boy, and a tall man with blue eyes. They were all holding hands.
The sight was a physical pain in Elena's chest. She had spent five years telling Leo that his father was a "star in the sky"—a beautiful but distant memory. Now, the star had come down to earth, and he was taking up all the space in their lives.
"It's time for his bath,"Elena said, her voice tight. "Leave us, Marcus."
Marcus looked at the drawing for a long moment. He reached out and touched the paper, his finger lingering on the small figure of the boy.
"The staff will bring up dinner," Marcus said. He turned to leave, but stopped at the door. "Oh, and Elena? Don't try to lock the door. In this house, I have all the keys."
He vanished into the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Elena sank onto the edge of the ship-shaped bed, watching Leo color. She had the contract. She had the fame. She had her son. But as she looked around the room Marcus had built in a single day, she realized she was no longer the one in control.
Marcus Thorne wasn't just coming for his heir. He was coming for the woman he had discarded—and this time, he wasn't going to let her sign her way out.