All Chapters of His father’s touch: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The man's hand tightened around my throat.I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. I clawed at his arm, desperate, my nails digging into his skin. He didn't flinch. He just squeezed harder."Please," I gasped. "Please—"Elias screamed my name.I heard him struggling, heard the grunt of the men holding him, heard the crack of a fist against bone. But it was all distant, muffled, like I was underwater.Then the pressure stopped.The man choking me grunted. His grip loosened. He staggered back, his hand going to his head.I fell to the floor, gasping for air.I looked up.Elias was standing over the man, a heavy bronze statue in his hands. He'd broken free. He'd hit the man hard enough to send him crashing to the ground."Clara," he said, dropping to his knees beside me. "Are you okay?"I nodded. I couldn't speak. My throat was raw. My body was shaking."Can you stand?""I think so."He helped me up. I leaned against him, my legs unsteady.His

I didn't sleep that night.I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word Elias had said. My mother. The documents. Damon's betrayal. The murder.I thought about the months she'd suffered. The pain. The slow decline. I'd been seventeen old enough to know something was wrong, old enough to ask questions. But I'd never asked. I'd accepted the story everyone told me. I'd let her die without knowing the truth.That ended now.I got up at dawn. I showered. I dressed. I called Elias.He answered on the first ring."Clara.""I'm ready.""Ready for what?""To get justice for my mother."There was a long silence."Then let's do it," he said.We met at a café downtown neutral ground, public, safe. Elias arrived with a leather briefcase and dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept either."I've been thinking," he said, sliding into the booth across from me. "If we're going to do this, we need to do it right.""What do you mean?""We need evidence. Real evidenc

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

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

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