Chapter 17 (141) – The Arrival

The clock shows 7:47 PM.I'm standing in the living room, near the window that overlooks the mansion's entrance. Elara is sitting on the sofa behind me, her hands clasped together on her lap. The black dress I chose for her hugs her body discreetly, but the marks on her neck still show above the collar. I didn't ask her to hide them. I don't want her to hide them.The silence between us is dense.I feel her presence like a second skin. Every breath. Every small movement. Since earlier, when I fucked her slowly in bed and then washed her with my own hands, something has changed in the air. It didn't get lighter. It got heavier. More real."You're nervous," she says softly, her voice hoarse."I'm ready," I correct."It's the same thing."I turn and look at her. Elara lifts her face. Her green eyes are calmer than I've ever seen them, but they still carry that underlying fear and defiance. I walk to the sofa and crouch in front of her, my large hands covering her knees."When they walk i

Chapter 18 (142) – The Conversation

I lead them into the living room without letting go of Elara's hand for a single second.My fingers are firmly wrapped around hers, almost painfully tight. I feel the fine tremor that runs through her arm, but she doesn't try to pull away. When we reach the larger sofa, I pull her to sit pressed against me. My thigh presses against hers. My arm goes behind her back clearly, possessively, almost challengingly. Her body is rigid, but she lets herself be pulled.Maeve and Luka sit on the sofa opposite. The space between the two sofas feels like a border. The air is too heavy for the size of the room.No one speaks for too long.I feel Maeve's gaze burn on me and then slide to Elara. She observes the marks on her neck, the way our fingers are intertwined, the forced closeness of our bodies. Luka remains silent, his elbows resting on his knees, the serious, calculating look I've known since childhood.Maeve is the first to break the silence. Her voice is controlled, but I know my mother we

Chapter 19 (143) – The Weight of Their Gaze

The conversation ends, but its weight doesn't.Maeve stands up first. The movement is slow, controlled, as if she's holding onto something that threatens to explode. Luka follows her with his eyes before rising as well. I remain seated, Elara's hand still clasped in mine. I don't let go. Not now. Maybe never.— I want a glass of water, Maeve says, her voice lower. — And I want her to come with me to the kitchen.I open my mouth to refuse, but Elara squeezes my fingers before I can speak.— I'll go — she says, surprising all three of us. Her voice comes out hoarse but firm. — Just… one minute.I turn my face toward her. The look we exchange is charged. I don't like it. Every fiber of my body screams against the idea of letting her leave my field of vision with my mother. But there's something in the way Elara looks at me—a silent decision—that makes me slowly release her hand.— Five minutes— I warn, my voice low and hard. — After that, I'm coming after you.Maeve doesn't respond. She

Chapter 20 (144) – Under the Same Roof

I wake before the sun fully pierces through the curtains.The light is still dim, grayish, the kind that doesn't warm. Elara is lying on her side, facing me, her face relaxed in deep sleep. One of my hands is splayed on her waist, fingers lightly dug into the soft flesh. The other is tucked under the pillow, too close to where I usually keep the gun when the anxiety gets too tight. The sheet is low on her waist. I can see the marks I left on her neck, her shoulder, and the curve of her breast. Yesterday I came inside her again. The smell of sex and possession still clings to both our skins.I wish I could lock the world outside and stay with just this.But the world is in the guest room.I hear movement downstairs. Light, careful steps. The sound of a cup being placed on the stone countertop. The low hiss of the coffee maker. Maeve is already awake. Probably has been for a while.Elara stirs. A small moan escapes her as her body stretches. Green eyes open slowly, still clouded with sl

Chapter 21 (145) – The Whole Day Under Watch

Breakfast ends in heavy silence.Maeve clears the cups with movements that are too calm. Luka remains seated, arms crossed, watching every time my hand moves toward Elara. I don't hide it. I keep my fingers on her thigh under the table, my thumb drawing slow circles over the fabric of her sweatpants. She doesn't pull away. She just clenches her jaw a little tighter.When we finally stand up, Maeve speaks without looking directly at me:— You two are staying in the living room today. No disappearing into the bedroom. No locking yourselves in. I want you in sight.I almost snap back something sharp, but I hold back. I just nod once, rigidly.I lead Elara to the large sofa in the living room. I sit first and pull her close against my side. My arm goes around her back, my hand ending on her opposite shoulder, keeping her pinned against me. She hesitates for a second, then gives in, her body settling against mine. The scent of her hair rises and calms me in a way I hate to admit.Luka sett

Chapter 22 (146) – Cracks

Elara's body is still warm against mine when the sun truly begins to rise.I didn't sleep well. I spent most of the night awake, listening to her breathing, feeling every small movement, as if at any moment someone would knock on the door and try to take her away. My hand is still splayed on her stomach, fingers slightly curved, possessive even in exhaustion.She wakes slowly. First a sigh. Then her body tenses for a second, as it always does, before remembering where she is. When green eyes open and find me, there's something different there. It's not just the residual desire from the night. It's weight.— You were awake again — she murmurs.— I was.— Because of them.— Because of you.Elara looks away for a moment. I hold her chin and make her look back.— Tell me what you're thinking.She hesitates. Her throat moves as she swallows.— Yesterday, when I went with Maeve to the kitchen… she asked me if I could really imagine a life away from you. Not in a cruel way. In a… worried way