The chandelier above the dining room table shimmered like a sky full of low hanging stars. Dozens of crystal teardrops caught the candlelight, scattering it across the gleaming silverware and bone china plates.Vera sat at one end of the long table, her back straight, her dress simple. She hadn’t planned to change, but the subtle look from one of the maids earlier, an eyebrow arched just so, told her that casual wouldn’t cut it.So she’d slipped into a soft black sheath dress.Elegant. Guarded.Much like her.Eira sat beside her, perched on a velvet booster chair, legs swinging as she spooned up her soup with the determined focus of someone on a secret mission.On Vera’s other side, Dorian sat like a man made for settings like this, his suit charcoal, his shirt open at the collar just enough to seem effortless.Mrs. Fontaine presided at the head of the table, wine glass in hand, a small smile gracing her lips as she watched the exchange between Vera and her son unfold with quiet inter
Dorian Fontaine had never liked him. They had fought in boardrooms long before either of them ever knew Vera Sterling existed.Now they had a new battlefield.And Vera was in the middle of it.The car rolled up the side street that led to the Donovan Suites. The building towered above them, discreet but unmistakably elite.Damien slowed to a stop at the private entrance.Asher sat still for a second, then exhaled slowly and opened the door himself. “Have my things sent here.”“All of them?” Damien asked.Asher nodded. “I’m staying here for a while.”“You want me to find out when she’s coming back?”“No.” The word came fast. Sharp. Then, softer: “Not yet.”Damien gave a tight nod. “Alright.”Asher moved through the lobby like he was made of smoke. He passed the concierge desk, ignoring the stunned looks from the staff who hadn’t seen him in years.The suite was waiting, clean, untouched, dimly lit.He walked in and shut the door behind him.Silence swallowed him whole.He dropped the s
The sun had started its descent by the time Asher realized no one was coming home today.He’d been parked outside Vera’s building for hours.At first, he’d planned to wait an hour. Maybe two.But then came the excuses, maybe they were out shopping, maybe they were visiting a friend, maybe they went to a bookstore or a museum. With a daughter like Eira, Vera was probably out doing something magical with her.But by the fourth hour, even his optimism gave way to quiet resignation.They weren’t coming back.Not tonight.Maybe not tomorrow.Still, he didn’t leave.He sat in the driver’s seat now, his phone silent on his lap, the gift box resting unopened beside him.How many times had he rehearsed what he’d say?How many versions of I’m sorry were enough?I was blind. I was manipulated. I thought you used me, and I see now how cruel that was.None of it would undo the years she spent alone.But he had to try.His fingers twitched as he thought of Eira’s face when she called him “Daddy.” T
The black Bentley coasted to a stop in front of Vera’s apartment just as the sun filtered through the trees, painting golden shadows on the sidewalk.Asher Donovan didn’t wait for the driver to open the door.He stepped out before the engine stopped humming, one hand already reaching into his coat pocket to retrieve the small gift box he’d brought with him.Inside was a delicate silver necklace, Eira’s birthstone at the center, flanked by two smaller gems.One for Vera.One for him.A symbol, not a bribe. Something that meant “we’re connected”, a soft offering, one that wouldn’t push, just remind.He looked up at the familiar building, the same one he had memorized from satellite photos when he first started searching for her. It was quiet. Almost too quiet.He checked his watch.4:18 PM.He hadn’t texted. He hadn’t called. He wanted this to be personal. Real.He just wanted to see them.Her.But most of all?Eira.He took the stairs instead of the elevator, two at a time, the familia
Eira was looking up at her now, hands clasped under her chin. “Mommy, I’ll call you every day. Promise.”“I know, baby.”“And Gramma said we could bake and ride horses and...”“You won’t spoil her too much?” Vera asked Mrs. Fontaine, only half teasing.Mrs. Fontaine's eyes crinkled with warmth. “I’ll return her with only half the sugar she’ll demand, I swear.”Vera gave a soft laugh, but the smile never fully reached her eyes.Dorian stepped closer. “You’ve done more than enough on your own for six years. Let her have this break. Let yourself have one.”“I don’t need a break,” Vera said under her breath.Dorian’s eyes were steady. “Maybe not. But you deserve one anyway.”She looked down at Eira, who was still clutching her hand tightly, her smile full of hope and stars.How could she say no?How could she say I don’t trust the timing without sounding like she was reading too deeply into something?“Alright,” Vera said at last, brushing hair from Eira’s face. “You can go. But only for
Vera met her eyes, unsure if it was meant as a compliment or a calculated observation.“Raising Eira alone, keeping her safe all these years… You gave her a beautiful life. That much is clear.”Vera's defenses lowered slightly. “I did what I had to.”She nodded. “That’s what mothers do. Even when the world doesn’t give us the tools.”Dorian finally spoke. “Eira seems happy.”“She is,” Vera said softly. “She doesn’t know how much the world shifted this past week.”Mrs. Fontaine tilted her head, watching Vera with that knowing gaze that only older women perfected.“You’re in a difficult position,” she said gently. “Two men. One heart.”Vera stiffened. “I didn’t realize this visit came with an interrogation.”Mrs. Fontaine smiled kindly. “It’s not. I promise. Just a woman who’s lived long enough to know the weight of choices.”Vera looked away.Dorian moved to sit across from her, but kept his distance. “My mother wanted to see Eira. That’s all.”That wasn’t all.She could feel it in the