Chapter Twelve: Sleep in My Bed

Eden's POV

“From the terminal outside Miss Eden's old room.” James said.

My face went pale.

“Outside my room?” I asked.

James nodded.

A chill ran down my spine as I remembered all the time I'd spent in that room.

Someone had been close enough to watch my movements without me ever knowing.

“Who had access to that terminal?” Sylar asked.

“We're compiling a list now, Sir.” James replied.

“I want every member of staff questioned. Nobody who was in this estate that morning leaves until they're cleared.” Sylar paused. 

“Also, review every camera covering that floor and every entry and exit from the estate. Suspend all existing access credentials and issue new ones.” He continued.

James nodded.

“And find out who touched Candice's tablet.” Sylar added.

“I'll handle it.” 

“You have until morning.” Sylar's expression remained hard.

James gave a slight nod before leaving.

I stared toward the open doorway.

“So the person who helped John could still be here?” I asked after a few seconds of silence.

“We don't know that.” Sylar said. 

“That isn't a no.” 

“No. It isn't.” Sylar looked at me.

My stomach tightened and suddenly, the estate didn't feel as safe as it had a few minutes ago.

I rubbed my arms as an unnatural chill set in. 

Sylar noticed.

“You're staying with me tonight.” His voice was calm.

My head snapped toward him.

“I have a room.” I stared at him. 

“You had a room.” His voice was calm. 

“You moved me two doors away from you.” I sighed. 

“And apparently, two doors are two doors too many when I don't know who I'm protecting you from.” He stepped closer. 

“You can't be serious.” I stared at him. “You want me to sleep in your bedroom?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?” He asked. 

“Is that such a good idea after what almost happened in this study?” My voice lowered to almost a whisper.

“Nothing happened.” His expression shifted slightly.

“You almost kissed me.” I pressed. 

“You almost let me.” His eyebrow rose.

“I did not.” Heat immediately climbed into my cheeks.

“How long are we going to have this argument every time we're alone?” The corner of his mouth twitched.

“As long as you keep pretending you weren't about to kiss me.” I countered. 

“Careful, Eden.” He stepped closer.

“Why?” My heartbeat quickened.

“You might convince me to finish what I started.” His voice was low and gruff.

My mouth suddenly went dry and for a heartbeat, neither of us spoke.

My breath caught as our eyes locked. He leaned in closer, so close that his warm breath brushed my neck. 

“Let’s go.” He walked past me.

I exhaled and turned to follow him.

The man was insufferable and apparently, so was my inability to stop reacting to him.

Sylar's bedroom was exactly what I should have expected.

Large, expensive, perfectly arranged but completely lifeless.

Dark furniture filled the room and everything was perfectly positioned, from the neatly made bed to the books arranged on the shelves.

But there was almost nothing in the room that suggested an actual person lived there.

“This is beyond depressing.” I slowly looked around.

“It's a bedroom.” Sylar closed the door behind us.

“You're a billionaire. Surely you can afford personality.” 

“I have plenty of personality.” His eyes narrowed.

“That might be the funniest thing you've ever said.” I laughed.

He ignored me and walked toward a door on the opposite side of the room.

“The bathroom is through there. You sleep on the bed.” He paused, glancing at the enormous bed. “I'll take the sofa.”

I turned toward the sofa and then back to Sylar.

My eyes traveled over his tall frame and a small laugh escaped me.

“You're going to sleep on that?” I asked. 

“You seem unusually entertained by my discomfort.” His voice was calm. 

“Maybe I'm finally finding something enjoyable about this arrangement.” I replied.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment and something warm passed between us.

I rolled my eyes and headed toward the bathroom to change.

When I returned, Sylar was sitting on the sofa with a tablet in his hand.

I climbed onto the bed and the mattress practically swallowed me.

“This might be worth being kidnapped for.” I said. 

“Don't joke about that.” Sylar's eyes immediately lifted.

The sharpness in his voice wiped the smile from my face.

Something about his expression made me stop.

For a second, I remembered him standing at the end of that corridor with a gun pointed at John.

The way he'd surrendered his weapon to save my life. 

“When they took me, were you scared?” I asked

“No.” His eyes narrowed.

The answer came too quickly, causing a smile to form on my lips. 

“Liar.”

“Go to sleep.” His expression hardened.

“That means yes.” I pulled the blanket over myself and closed my eyes before he could respond.

I had no idea how much time had passed when I opened my eyes again.

The room was dark and for several seconds, I couldn't remember where I was.

Then I heard Sylar shift on the sofa.

“Are you awake?” I whispered.

“No.” He replied.

“You're terrible at pretending to sleep.” I turned toward him.

He remained silent.

“I can't sleep.” I continued.

“Try harder.” He said.

I stared into the darkness and for some reason, the question I'd been thinking about since the previous night had returned.

“Why do you need an heir?” I asked.

He remained silent. 

“Sylar?” I called out again, wondering if he had actually fallen asleep. 

Then I heard him exhale deeply.

“My father established a family trust before he died.”

I pushed myself slightly upright and Sylar continued.

“A portion of the family's controlling interest is tied to succession.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means my position isn't as permanent as everyone believes.” His voice was calm.

“You control Wayne Pharmaceuticals.” My tone was laced with surprise. 

“I do, but if I fail to satisfy the succession terms, Julian becomes the next beneficiary of that portion of the trust.” 

“And then what?”

“He gains enough voting power to challenge my control of the company.”

“So that's why he wants to stop you from having an heir.” I  stared toward his silhouette.

“Yes.”

Everything suddenly made more sense.

The kidnapping, Julian's obsession with whether the insemination had worked, Sylar's mother offering me ten million dollars to disappear with the child.

“So this baby is basically a corporate takeover defense.” I slowly placed a hand over my stomach.

“That's an awful way of describing it.” He paused. “And enough questions for tonight. Goodnight, Eden.”

“Goodnight, Sylar.” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn't see me.

I closed my eyes to sleep but the thought stayed with me.

If there was no baby, Julian could take Sylar's company. But what would happen to me?

The next morning, a call from Dr. Isaac woke us.

I immediately sat upright when I heard Claire's name.

“What happened?” I immediately asked.

Sylar held up a hand as he listened.

His expression gave nothing away.

“Sylar?” My heartbeat quickened.

He ended the call.

“What happened to Claire?” I pressed.

“Her latest results came back and she's responding." He paused, observing my face. 

“Her markers have shown improvement.” He added. 

“It's working?” My throat tightened.

“It's too early to be certain but she appears to be responding to the protocol.” He said calmly.

Relief hit me so quickly that tears immediately filled my eyes.

“Oh my God.” I covered my mouth.

Sylar stood and his expression remained controlled.

For the first time since Evelyn had shown me those patient records, the knot in my chest loosened.

Sylar had taken a risk with Claire and it was a risk I still wished he'd told me about but maybe it truly had been her best chance.

“Thank you.” I forced out the words as I wiped my tears. 

“Don't thank me yet.” His expression softened.

I looked at him and for once, I didn't argue.

The days that followed felt strangely different.

Claire continued to respond to treatment. It was not enough for anyone to use the word ‘recovery’ but it was enough to give me hope.

James continued investigating the security breach, while Sylar kept most of the details away from me unless something directly affected my safety.

No one had identified the mole yet.

Candice barely spoke to me and Sylar became harder to understand with every passing day.

Sometimes he treated me like part of a business arrangement and other times, I'd catch him watching me from across a room.

Neither of us mentioned the moment in his study again or what he'd said about finishing what he'd started.

But I remembered, far more often than I wanted to admit.

And through it all, one question hung over everything.

Had the insemination worked?

The day finally arrived to find out whether the insemination had worked. 

I sat beside Sylar in Dr. Isaac's office and my fingers wouldn't stop moving.

I clasped them together, unclasped them, then did it again.

“Stop.” Sylar's voice pulled me out of my head.

“Stop what?” I looked at Sylar.

“Your hands. You're making yourself nervous.” His expression remained infuriatingly calm.

“I am already nervous. How are you not?” I asked.

“I don't see how panicking will change the result.” He gave a light shrug.

“Sometimes I genuinely dislike you.” I glared at him.

“I know.” His voice remained calm.

I stared at the closed door.

Dr. Isaac had left several minutes ago to retrieve the results and it felt like hours.

I looked away and my hand moved instinctively toward my stomach.

For nearly two weeks, I'd wondered and obsessed over what the result might be.

I had entered this arrangement because of Claire. So why was I suddenly terrified that the answer might be no?

The door opened and Dr. Isaac walked in.

My heart jumped into my throat. Every beat sent shockwaves through my body.

I searched his face immediately but couldn't pick out anything.

“Well?” Sylar straightened beside me.

Dr. Isaac sat across from us as his eyes shifted from me to Sylar.

“Just tell me.” My stomach tightened.

Dr. Isaac's mouth opened and then closed. That hesitation told me everything I needed to know.

“I'm sorry, Miss Petrelli.”

My heart sank.

“The test is negative.”