Chapter 14

Kian's POV 

The clink of cutlery against porcelain filled the quiet between us.

My mother had always preferred silence to conversation, a weapon she’d mastered after years of power and restraint.

I reached for my wine, keeping my gaze on the glass instead of her. “You could’ve called.”

“I was in the area,” she said, cutting neatly into her salmon. “And I thought I’d stop by.”

I didn’t buy it. She never just stopped by.

“So,” I said evenly, “what did you really come for?”

Her lips curved. “You make it sound like I need a reason to see my son.”

She paused, tilting her head. “It’s been quite the hassle to see you since you moved out two years ago,” she purred.

“You usually do have a reason.”

That earned a small smile. Proud, almost amused.

“Fair point.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, tone casual, almost conversational.

“I paid Eliora a visit today.”

The fork in my hand stilled midair. I didn’t look up. “Did you.”

“Yes. She’s doing rather well for herself.”

Her voice was light, almost admiring. “Her publishing firm, her awards, her new book. She’s… impressive.”

I took a slow sip of wine, forcing indifference into every movement. “You shouldn’t have gone there.”

“I was curious,” she said, setting her fork down gently. “As a fellow literary woman, I had to see for myself what all the noise was about.”

I looked up then, meeting her gaze. “Don’t bother her again.”

She arched her brow. “Bother? I was being polite.”

“Whatever you call it, don’t do it again.”

My tone came out sharper than I intended, the calm beginning to crack around the edges.

She studied me the way she always did when she wanted to see past what I wasn’t saying. “Still sulking that she left you?”

I exhaled slowly. “It’s been years.”

“She never truly loved you, you know that, right?” she continued, her tone deceptively soft.

“Mom.” I called out slowly, warning in my voice.

“Yes. And yet…” She trailed off, a knowing smile tugging at her mouth. “You searched for her for years.”

Her voice softened into something that almost sounded like pity. “I know, Kian. I’m your mother.”

Her words hit like ice sliding down my spine, quiet but cutting.

I never told anyone. Except Drew and Julian. Other than them, no one else knew.

I sat back, the room suddenly feeling smaller. My mother’s eyes. Sharp, assessing felt like knives pressing into places I’d buried long ago.

She leaned back, gaze softening again, though I knew better than to mistake it for kindness. “You don’t have to hide it from me. We both know what she took when she left.”

I looked away, jaw tightening. “You don’t know anything about that.”

“Don’t I?” she murmured. “You changed after she left. You buried yourself in work, in the company, in everything that reminded you of power because it was easier than admitting what you lost.”

I pushed my plate aside, appetite gone. “Dinner’s over.”

“Now that you’ve found her, what’s your plan?” she asked.

I froze.

The question cut through the air, deliberate and slow.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going after her?” She sighed, exasperated. “Kian, that girl is bad news. Just look at what happened.”

Her words made my chest tighten. I stood up, the chair scraping softly against the marble floor.

“You don’t know why she left.”

“Oh, I think I do,” she said quietly.

Something in her tone made me stop just for a heartbeat before I forced myself to walk away.

“I’ll ask the driver to take you back,” I said flatly.

“Kian!” she called out.

I didn’t turn. The sound of her voice followed me down the hall, fading behind the click of my shoes and the dull echo of memory.

Whatever might have been the reason Eliora left, a part of me had always suspected my mother’s hand in it.

She’d never liked Eliora said she was too soft, too emotional, too much of a liability for a man with my name.

But she didn’t know Eliora like I did. She didn’t see the way her eyes used to light up when she wrote, or how her silence could speak louder than words.

And maybe that was my problem even now, after everything, I still saw her through the lens of who she used to be.

I paused at the door, loosening my tie, trying to swallow the bitterness rising in my throat.

Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I reached for it and pressed it to my ear after the second ring.

“Yes.”

“I looked into the information you asked me to,” the man’s voice said.

My grip tightened around the phone. “And?”

A pause. long, deliberate.

“Kian… I found out who leaked the headlines.”

My heart stilled. “Who?”

The voice hesitated, low and grim.

“You might want to sit down for this.”

The line went dead…