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The Engagement Party

ผู้เขียน: Andrea
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-09-09 18:41:50

HIS FATHER'S TOUCH

The engagement party was everything I'd dreamed of.

The venue was a grand estate on the outskirts of the city. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting soft light over the guests. Waiters moved through the crowd with silver trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres. The flowers were white roses and baby's breath, just like I'd wanted.

I stood in the middle of it all, smiling, nodding, shaking hands. The perfect bride.

Mia was beside me, radiant in her blue dress.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, squeezing my arm.

"Great," I said.

"Really?"

"Really."

She didn't look convinced. But she didn't push. She just smiled and squeezed my arm again.

"Good," she said. "Because you're about to meet the famous Elias Blackwood."

My heart stopped.

"Elias?" I repeated.

"Yeah. Damon's father. He's been abroad for years. This is the first time he's coming back for something."

I felt cold suddenly. I couldn't explain it.

It's a common name, I told myself. It's not him. It can't be him.

But my hands were trembling.

I spent the next hour drifting through the party like a ghost. I smiled. I nodded. I shook hands. But my mind was somewhere else entirely.

Elias.

The man from the club. The man whose penthouse I'd woken up in. The man whose last name I still didn't know.

It's not him. It can't be him.

But the possibility gnawed at me. What if it was him? What if the man I'd spent the night with was Damon's father? What if I'd slept with my fiancé's father?

No. That was impossible. That was too cruel. The universe couldn't be that twisted.

Could it?

"Clara!" Damon's voice cut through the crowd. "Come here. I want you to meet someone."

I turned.

He was standing near the fireplace, beaming with pride. Beside him stood a man in a black suit, his back half turned to me. I couldn't see his face clearly.

I walked toward them, my heart pounding. Each step felt heavier than the last.

"Clara, this is my father," Damon said, his voice full of excitement. "He's been traveling for years, but he finally came back for the wedding."

The man turned.

Silver hair. Sharp jaw. Cold grey eyes.

My blood turned to ice.

Elias.

The man from the club. The man I'd spent the night with. The man whose arms I'd cried in.

He was standing in front of me, his face frozen in shock.

He didn't know.

He didn't know I was Damon's fiancée.

The realization hit me like a wave. He was just as surprised as I was.

"Clara," Damon said, oblivious. "Meet my father, Elias."

Elias extended his hand.

I took it.

His grip was trembling. His eyes searched mine, desperate for answers.

"Clara," he said, his voice barely steady. "I've heard so much about you."

There was no mockery in his voice. No hidden meaning. Just confusion. Shock. Disbelief.

We were both drowning.

"I've heard so much about you too," I managed.

The words tasted like ash.

I don't know how I got through the next few minutes. I smiled. I nodded. I said the right words. But inside, I was screaming.

He didn't know. He didn't know.

He'd had no idea I was Damon's fiancée. Just like I'd had no idea he was Damon's father.

We were both innocent. We were both guilty. And we were both trapped.

I excused myself as quickly as I could, mumbling something about needing air. I stumbled out onto the terrace and gripped the railing, my hands shaking.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

How did this happen? How could we both have been so stupid?

A moment later, the door opened.

I didn't turn around.

"I didn't know."

His voice was quiet, raw.

"I didn't know you were his fiancée. I swear to you, Clara. I had no idea."

I finally turned.

Elias was standing a few feet away. His face was pale, his jaw tight. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"You didn't know," I repeated.

"Would I have done this to you if I had?"

I opened my mouth to answer. Nothing came out.

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to scream and cry and throw things at him. But he looked just as shattered as I felt.

"This is my fault," I said. "I shouldn't have—"

"Don't." He stepped closer. "Don't take all the blame. I'm the older one. I should have stopped it."

"You didn't know."

"Neither did you."

A tear slipped down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly.

"What do we do now?" I whispered.

He was silent for a long moment.

"I don't know," he finally said. "But I can't pretend this didn't happen, Clara. I can't pretend you don't exist."

I should have walked away. I should have told Damon everything. I should have ended the engagement and run as far from this family as I could.

I didn't.

Instead, I looked at Elias the man who'd held me while I cried, the man who'd seen the real me, the man who was now my fiancé's father and felt my resolve crumbling.

"We can't do this again," I said.

"Can we stay away from each other?"

The question hung in the air.

I didn't answer.

Because I already knew the truth.

I couldn't.

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  • His father’s touch   The Beginning

    The baby came three weeks early.I woke up in the middle of the night to a sharp pain in my abdomen. At first, I thought it was nothing. A cramp. A false alarm. But the pain came again. And again. And again.I reached over and shook Elias."Wake up."He stirred. "What's wrong?""The baby. It's coming."He was awake instantly.He threw on clothes. He grabbed the hospital bag we'd packed weeks ago. He helped me to the car. He drove faster than he should have.I gripped the door handle and breathed through the contractions."It's okay," he said. "You're okay. We're almost there."I didn't answer. I couldn't.The hospital was a blur.Nurses. Doctors. Bright lights. Cold hands. Machines that beeped and hummed. Elias beside me the whole time, holding my hand, whispering that I was doing great, that I was strong, that everything was going to be okay.I didn't feel strong. I felt like I was being torn apart.But I kept going.I thought about my mother. How she'd done this. How she'd brought m

  • His father’s touch   The Future

    Married life was quiet.Not boring. Not predictable. Just... quiet. The kind of quiet I'd never known before. The kind of quiet that felt like peace.We bought a small house on the outskirts of the city. It wasn't a penthouse. It wasn't a mansion. It was a cottage with a white picket fence and a garden full of wildflowers. The kind of house I'd dreamed about as a child.Elias planted roses in the backyard. I painted the walls a soft yellow. We filled the rooms with books and candles and photographs.It was ours.I got a job at a small publishing house downtown.It didn't pay much. It wasn't glamorous. But I loved it. I loved reading manuscripts. I loved working with authors. I loved the smell of paper and ink.I was good at it too.My boss, a woman named Helen, told me I had an eye for stories. She said I understood what made people turn the page.I thought about my own story. The one I'd lived. The one I was still living.Maybe that was why.Elias sold his shares in the family busine

  • His father’s touch   The Wedding

    We didn't want a big wedding.The first time I'd walked down the aisle, it had been a spectacle. Hundreds of guests. White flowers. A dress that cost more than my first car. A man I didn't love waiting for me at the altar.This time, I wanted something different.This time, I wanted something real.We chose a small chapel by the sea.It was old and weathered, with white stone walls and a bell tower that hadn't rung in decades. The windows were stained glass, casting colored light across the wooden pews. The only decorations were wildflowers in mason jars and candles in glass holders.It was simple. It was beautiful.It was ours.I invited three people.Mira, the healer's apprentice who'd once brought me salve when I was locked in my cell. She'd reached out after the trial, after everything. She'd said she was proud of me.My father.I hadn't spoken to him since the wedding. He'd called, texted, tried to reach me through Elias. I'd ignored him for months. But when I finally called him

  • His father’s touch   The Aftermath

    The days after the trial were strange.I had spent so long fighting so long surviving that I didn't know how to stop. I woke up each morning expecting another battle. Another threat. Another crisis to solve.But there was nothing.The trial was over. Damon was in prison. His mother was awaiting her own trial in France. Victor was still missing, but the police were confident they would find him. The media had moved on to other scandals, other stories.The war was over.I just didn't know how to live in the peace.I stayed at Elias's penthouse for a week.He didn't push. He didn't ask for anything. He just made sure I ate. Made sure I slept. Made sure I didn't drown in my own thoughts.But I could see the worry in his eyes. The way he watched me. The way he hesitated before he spoke.He was waiting for me to break.I didn't.Not yet.On the seventh day, I woke up before dawn.I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Elias's breathing beside me. He was asleep. Peac

  • His father’s touch   The Fallout

    The press conference was chaos.I stood at the podium in a small conference room downtown, flanked by Sarah Chen and a publicist I'd hired two days earlier. The room was packed reporters, cameras, photographers, bloggers, everyone who mattered and everyone who didn't. They shouted questions before I even opened my mouth."Ms. Reyes, is it true you were involved with your fiancé's father?""Did you sleep with Elias Blackwood before or after the engagement?""Is it true Damon Blackwood killed your mother?"I raised my hand.The room fell silent."My name is Clara Reyes," I said. "Eleven years ago, my mother, Elara Reyes, died. I was told she died of an illness. I believed that lie for over a decade. Today, I'm here to tell you the truth."I paused."My mother was murdered. She was poisoned. Slowly. Deliberately. By the Blackwood family. And the man who helped cover it up the man who knew what was happening and said nothing was my fiancé, Damon Blackwood."The room erupted.I read the st

  • His father’s touch   The Accusation

    Damon was released on bail three days later.I found out from the news. A reporter stood outside the courthouse, microphone in hand, describing how the "disgraced heir" had walked free pending trial. Damon had posted a two million dollar bond. His lawyers had argued he was not a flight risk. The judge had agreed.I watched the footage on my phone, my hands shaking.He was out.He was free.And I knew with a certainty that settled deep in my bones that he would come for me.I called Elias."Did you see?" I asked."I saw.""What do we do?""Nothing. We wait. We watch. We don't give him the satisfaction of reacting.""You think he'll come after us?""I think he's desperate. And desperate men do desperate things."I paused."I'm not going to hide," I said."Clara—""I'm done hiding. I'm done running. I'm done letting him control my life."There was a long silence."What are you going to do?" he asked."I'm going to find him. And I'm going to tell him the truthI found Damon at a bar downt

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