The Chill After the Storm

The ride back to the estate was dead quiet.

I sat on the far side of the leather-free backseat, staring straight ahead through the dark

window. The flashing lights of the reporters were gone, but they still flickered behind

my eyes. My hands were balled into tight fists on my lap.

Ares sat beside me, his large frame taking up most of the space. He didn't say a word.

He just stared forward with that cold, unbothered look on his face.

"You had no right to do that," I finally broke the silence, my voice low and sharp. I

turned my head to glare at him. "Calling me your mate in front of the whole city.

Making a public circus out of me."

Ares turned his head slowly. His dark eyes locked onto mine without a single hint of

warmth. "She tried to poison you, Julian. The moment we walked into that room, every

high-society shark was waiting to see you bleed. If I didn't draw a hard line, they would

have torn you apart by midnight."

"I could have handled Vivienne myself," I snapped, though the words felt hollow even to

me.

Ares let out a dry, hard sound. "With what? You could barely stand up straight before

she walked over. You think you are still on some battlefield where a hard stare saves

your life. You are in my world now. In this city, weakness is a death sentence, and the

moment you show blood in the water, the wolves come out."

"I am not your property," I hissed, leaning closer to him, my chest burning with anger.

"I signed your paper for the company. That is all this is. A business deal."

"Keep telling yourself that," Ares replied softly, his voice dropping an octave as he

reached out.

Before I could pull away, his fingers caught my chin. His touch was warm and steady,

forcing my face up so I had to look right into his eyes. My pulse jumped against my skin.

Every instinct from my old life told me to fight him off, to break his grip and put him in

his place. But my new body traitorously warmed up to his touch, letting out a soft sigh

that made me want to curse out loud.

"You can fight me all you want," Ares whispered, his thumb brushing just across my

lower lip. "You can pretend you hate my presence. But your body knows the truth,

Julian. And so do I."

I violently slapped his hand away and pressed my back hard against the car door. I didn't

say another word for the rest of the drive. The sheer frustration burning inside my chest

was almost too much to breathe through.

When the car finally stopped, I didn't wait for the driver. I yanked the door open,

stepped out onto the paved driveway, and marched straight into the grand entrance of

the house. I didn't look back to see if Ares was following.

I headed straight for my room, needing to lock the door and shut out the rest of the

world. But before I could reach the top of the stairs, the main doors opened behind me.

"Mr. Vane."

I stopped, letting out an exhausted breath, and turned around. Dr. Kaleb Vance stood in

the foyer, carrying his black medical case. His calm, bespectacled face looked entirely

too serious for this time of night.

"What do you want, Kaleb?" I asked, my voice flat. "It's past midnight. I am not in the

mood for a checkup."

"Mr. Sterling called me the moment you left the gala," Kaleb said, walking up the steps

toward me with steady, professional strides. "Given what happened with Miss Cross and

the chemical residue on that glass, my orders are to run a full check on your vitals right

now. No arguments."

I crossed my arms, glaring down at him. "I told you, I am fine. My body is fine. Go

home."

"Your body is fighting a war against itself, Mr. Vane," Kaleb replied smoothly, not

intimidated by my glare at all. He reached the landing and gestured toward my room.

"You went through a rare second differentiation. You are carrying a child under extreme

psychological stress, you ran away from the estate, you put yourself through brutal

physical training, and tonight you absorbed a massive spike of adrenaline when

someone tried to poison you. If you keep fighting your own biology, you won't just lose

the baby. You will kill yourself."

The blunt honesty of his words hit me like a splash of cold water.

I opened my mouth to snap back at him, but the words stuck in my throat. A sudden,

sharp cramp twisted low in my stomach, making my knees wobble. I grabbed the

wooden banister just in time to keep from falling.

Kaleb was by my side in a second, his hand steadying my elbow. "Let's get inside. Now."

I didn't fight him. I let him guide me into the bedroom and sit me down on the edge of

the mattress.

For the next twenty minutes, the room was silent except for the low hum of the medical

equipment Kaleb pulled from his case. He checked my heart rate, scanned my abdomen

with a small, cold handheld device, and tested my blood pressure. Every time he pressed

the scanner against my lower stomach, I felt a strange, terrifying flutter—a tiny pulse of

life that wasn't mine, yet belonged entirely to me.

Kaleb packed his instruments away, his expression softening just a fraction.

"The baby is holding on," Kaleb said quietly, closing his metal case. "Somehow. But your

system is running on fumes. Your body is starved for stable pheromones and rest. You

are trying to survive this by treating it like a combat mission, Julian. It doesn't work that

way."

"I am a soldier," I muttered, staring down at my pale hands. "I don't know how to do

anything else."

"You are an expectant father in a very dangerous city," Kaleb corrected gently. "And

whether you like Mr. Sterling or not, his presence is the only thing keeping your

physical fever under control. Next time he tries to help you, try not to throw a glass vase

at his head."

I let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Did he tell you about that?"

"He didn't have to," Kaleb said with a slight smirk, standing up and grabbing his case.

"The broken glass on the floor downstairs was a dead giveaway. Get some real sleep, Mr.

Vane. I'll check on you tomorrow."

With that, the doctor turned and left the room, clicking the door shut behind him.

The heavy silence settled back over the bedroom. I sat there in the dark, the city lights

casting long shadows across the floor. My chest felt tight, not from anger this time, but

from a strange, sinking emptiness.

I walked over to the large window, pulling the curtains back to look out at the

sprawling, heavily guarded estate. Down below, security lights swept across the

manicured lawns.

My phone, resting on the bedside table, suddenly lit up with a bright screen and a sharp

buzz.

I walked back and picked it up. A new message from Harrison Cole flashed on the

screen.

Sir, the text read. While everyone was distracted by the gala tonight, someone inside the

company tried to access the secure overseas accounts. I managed to block the

transaction, but we have a leak. It's coming from inside the executive floor.

I stared at the glowing words, my military mind instantly snapping back into focus.

Vivienne was locked away, and my mother had been stripped of her voting rights, but

the corporate war wasn't over. Someone was still trying to gut the Vane empire from the

inside.

I tapped out a quick reply to Harrison: Find out who. Don't make a move until I give the

word.

I locked the phone and set it back down. The illusion of safety in this house was a joke.

Enemies were everywhere—in the boardrooms, on the streets, and even inside my own

company.

I climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up. I still hated this world, and I still hated

the man who claimed I was his. But as I closed my eyes, I knew one thing for certain: if

someone wanted to take what was mine, they were going to have to get through me first.