Chapter 18 – Admiration Without Permission

The Stone estate had never felt so cold.

May felt it the moment she stepped inside—not in the temperature, but in the silence. The kind that watched you. Measured you. Weighed your worth before you spoke a word.

Damien walked beside her, his hand brushing hers once—briefly, reassuringly—before he straightened, instinctively stepping into the role he had been born into.

May noticed.

She always did.

Daxton Stone sat at the far end of the long dining table, cane resting against his chair, posture relaxed, eyes sharp. He didn’t rise when they entered. He didn’t smile.

But he looked directly at May.

Not dismissive.

Not hostile.

Appraising.

“You’re late,” he said calmly.

“We came as soon as you summoned us,” Damien replied evenly.

Daxton’s gaze flicked to him for a fraction of a second—then returned to May.

“Sit,” he said.

Not please.

Not both of you.

Just sit.

May sat anyway.

Gracefully. Calmly. Like a woman who did not beg for space at tables—she claimed it.

Daxton noticed that too.

“I’ll be direct,” Daxton said, folding his hands over his cane. “I do not oppose you, May Austin.”

Damien’s shoulders eased slightly.

May didn’t react.

“But,” Daxton continued, “I oppose this.”

He gestured vaguely between her and Damien.

Silence thickened.

Damien leaned forward. “Grandfather—”

“You may speak when I’m finished,” Daxton said mildly.

Damien closed his mouth, jaw tight.

Daxton turned fully to May. “You are intelligent. Capable. Disciplined. You have raised my great-grandchildren well.”

Great-grandchildren.

He acknowledged them. Publicly.

“And,” he added, “your influence within my company has been… impressive.”

May inclined her head slightly. “Thank you.”

Daxton’s eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in interest.

“You don’t mistake praise for permission,” he observed.

“No,” May replied calmly. “I don’t.”

A flicker of approval passed through his gaze.

Then—steel.

“However,” Daxton said, “you come from nothing.”

Damien surged to his feet. “That’s enough.”

Daxton lifted a finger.

Damien froze.

The power of decades of dominance pressed down hard.

“I built this empire from less than nothing,” Daxton continued. “But I understand class—not as wealth, but as structure. You, May Austin, do not fit into the Stone structure.”

May met his gaze steadily. “Structures that can’t adapt collapse.”

A ripple of shock passed through the room.

Daxton laughed.

Low. Genuine.

“Sharp,” he said. “Very sharp.”

Then his expression hardened.

“And still unacceptable.”

Damien slammed his hand on the table. “She is the mother of my children.”

“And she will remain so,” Daxton said calmly. “I am not removing her from their lives.”

May’s fingers tightened slightly in her lap.

“But she will not become Damien Stone’s wife,” Daxton finished. “Not now. Not ever.”

The words landed like a verdict.

Silence.

Heavy.

Unforgiving.

Damien’s voice dropped. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Daxton’s gaze shifted to him—cold now. “I decide everything in this family.”

May stood.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

“I didn’t ask to marry into your family,” she said evenly. “And I don’t need your approval to exist in my own life.”

Daxton studied her intently.

Good.

“You admire me,” May continued softly. “But you fear what I represent. A woman your legacy can’t control.”

The air went still.

Daxton’s cane tapped once against the floor.

“Careful,” he warned.

May didn’t flinch. “I am.”

Then she turned to Damien. “We’re leaving.”

Damien didn’t hesitate.

They walked out together—shoulders aligned.

Behind them, Daxton watched.

And for the first time in decades—

He felt uncertainty.

Outside, Damien exhaled sharply.

“I should’ve warned you,” he said. “He doesn’t bend.”

May looked at him calmly. “Neither do I.”

He smiled faintly—then sobered. “He’ll come for us.”

“I know,” she replied. “And this time, it won’t be emotional.”

She glanced back at the estate.

“It’ll be strategic.”

Across town, Sophia Laurent adjusted her coat as she exited the hospital, exhaustion tugging at her shoulders.

“Tough shift?” a voice asked.

She looked up—and froze.

Dr. David Stone.

Tall. Impeccably dressed even in scrubs. Calm eyes. Reputation that preceded him.

“Define tough,” Sophia replied coolly.

David smiled faintly. “You performed a miracle in OR three today.”

Sophia raised an eyebrow. “You were watching?”

“I was consulting,” he corrected. “You didn’t need me.”

Something passed between them—recognition.

Equality.

“I’ve heard of you,” Sophia said. “Stone Hospital’s golden surgeon.”

“And I’ve heard of you,” David replied. “The one who refuses to join elite circles.”

“I prefer saving lives over impressing committees.”

David chuckled. “Dangerous philosophy.”

Sophia met his gaze. “Only to people who need control.”

Their smiles faded—something deeper stirring.

Unspoken.

Unresolved.

Fate quietly took note.

That night, at May’s apartment, the children sat on the floor coloring.

Aria glanced up suddenly. “Mum… why doesn’t Great-Grandpa like you?”

The question cut cleanly.

May knelt in front of her. “He likes me,” she said gently. “He just doesn’t know how to let people be happy.”

Aiden frowned. “That’s silly.”

May smiled. “Very.”

Aiden crawled into her lap without thinking.

Damien watched from the doorway, chest tight.

Blood knew.

Children always knew.

Elsewhere, Daxton Stone stood alone in his study, staring at an old photograph.

Legacy.

Power.

Control.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured. “Not because you’re weak… but because you don’t need us.”

He set the photo down slowly.

“Prepare the alternatives,” he said into the phone.

A pause.

“Yes,” Daxton added quietly. “The proper ones.”

The war had begun.