Semua Bab The Twisted Wedding Night: Bab 41 - Bab 50

I learned that silence could have weight.It pressed against my ears as I walked down the west corridor, the kind of quiet that made every step sound louder than it should have. The house felt different without Alice in it—emptier, sharper somehow. Too clean. Too orderly. Like it was holding its breath.Margaret had told me earlier that Alice would be staying overnight at one of the Grant family’s secured properties for a children’s program Willow insisted on. I’d nodded and smiled and told her it was fine, that of course it was fine. I told myself I welcomed the break.But now, with the hall lights dimmed to energy-saving mode and the late afternoon sun barely reaching the windows, I felt exposed. Untethered.I was halfway to the laundry room when the house lurched.Not physically—not like an earthquake—but the lights flickered once, twice, then went out entirely.The sudden darkness stole my breath.A low mechanical hum replaced the soft background noise I’d grown used to. Somewhere

The morning passed too smoothly—no sharp words from Ace, no clipped orders, no tension snapping like a wire pulled too tight. He barely looked at me during breakfast, his attention absorbed by his phone, his posture rigid and contained. If I hadn’t known him better—or at least thought I did—I might have mistaken it for consideration.By late afternoon, that illusion shattered.“We’re leaving in ten minutes,” he said, appearing in the doorway of the sitting room where I’d been pretending to read. “Get your coat.”I looked up, startled. “Leaving? Where?”“A meeting.”“I’m not—”“You are.” His tone left no room for argument. “Security protocol.”My stomach tightened. “Alice—”“Is not coming,” he cut in. “She’s already accounted for.”The finality in his voice told me this decision had been made long before he’d informed me. I closed the book slowly, forcing my hands to stay steady.“Okay,” I said, because arguing with Ace Grant was like throwing pebbles at a locked door.The car waited o

The smell of toast and coffee filled the kitchen as I helped Alice with her breakfast, guiding her tiny hands as she tried to butter a slice of bread without making a mess. She hummed softly, completely absorbed, and for a moment, the tension of the past day faded. I smiled faintly, enjoying the simple normalcy.“You’ve got it, Alice. Steady,” I said, leaning over to steady her hands.“Like this?” she asked, eyes wide and earnest.“Perfect,” I said, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.The front door clicked open, and I froze mid-motion, my heart giving a tiny, startled leap. It wasn’t Alice’s grandmother this time. I hadn’t expected anyone else.And then I saw her.She walked in like she owned the house, tall and impossibly poised. Her red hair was a cascade of curls that framed her smooth, flawless skin. She moved with a confidence that made the air feel thinner, like gravity had shifted just for her. Every step was deliberate, every glance measured. She looked like she had walk

It was dusk now and Alice had insisted on reorganizing her toy shelf herself, which meant the entire room was strewn with books, stuffed animals, and a scattering of building blocks. I was crouched on the floor, trying to persuade her to focus on the top shelves without knocking over the rest, when I heard Ace’s voice behind me.“You might need a hand with that.”I froze, my chest tightening. He was standing in the doorway, tall and composed, as always, but there was a softness to his tone I hadn’t noticed before. My head flicked up, and I met his eyes for the briefest second before quickly looking away, pretending to examine a leaning stack of blocks.“I’ve got it,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt. “It’s… it’s fine.”He stepped closer, and I could feel the shift in the room. His presence was magnetic, pulling at me in a way I hadn’t expected. “You’ve got some… creative organization going on here.” His lips tilted just slightly, the hint of a smile, and I caught myself staring. No

I opened the door to my bedroom and froze mid-step.Ella was there. Sitting on the edge of the bed like she owned the place, arms crossed, lips pressed into that familiar tight line of hers. The red curls of her hair fell over one shoulder, perfectly coiffed despite the chaos she’d just caused downstairs. Her black eyes, dark and sharp, locked on me with that insufferable mix of accusation and entitlement that had defined her since the day she’d decided she had a claim on me.I sighed, running a hand down my face. My temples ached preemptively. I could already hear the complaints forming.“Finally,” she said, in that sing-song, annoyed tone. “I was wondering if you’d even bother to pick up your phone today.”I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, arms crossed. Predictably, she immediately launched into her tirade.“You’ve been avoiding me, Ace. Ignoring my calls, leaving me in the dark. Do you have any idea how that feels?”I let out another long, measured sigh. She’d been