Chapter 17
Silas
At thirty-two, I married Eris. Eleven years later, I was marrying her daughter.
I’d never offered Everly more than a few smiles and surface-level conversation. Nothing meaningful. Nothing lasting. My hand stilled on my tie as the memories stirred.
No—around the age of fourteen or fifteen, she vanished.
Eris had planned trips away during school breaks, always brushing off questions with something about Everly being better off at school, or with friends, or just needing “space to grow.” I hadn’t questioned it.
She was a teenager. Moody. Distant. I figured that was normal.
But the truth? Everly stopped coming home.
And I didn’t notice until she reappeared.
Seeing our child last week—our child—resting inside her womb flipped a switch in me. It brought the past back in stark, painful clarity. But it also forced me to look ahead.
I couldn’t rewrite history.
But I could make damn sure Everly never wanted for anything again. Not her. Not our children.
Physically. Emotionally. Permanently.
I just hoped she liked her surprise at the registry office.
It was a risk, I knew that. But I’d vetted every detail. Quiet. Discreet. We kept it small, neither of us wanted a long-winded event. Fourteen guests. One photographer. I’d handled it in a matter of days.
I’d told her she’d be Mrs Voss in a week.
And I kept my promises.
I pinned the cream sprig onto my jacket and moved to the mirror, smoothing a hand through my hair and tilting my head side to side. No grey. Good. I wanted today to be perfect.
My gaze drifted around the bedroom.
Maybe it was time to sell the house.
Start fresh. Build something that belonged to us, not the ghost of a failed marriage.
Everly never complained—but it couldn’t be easy.
Not here. Not under this roof.
And I was done letting my past touch what was mine.
Eris was out on the streets where she belonged. She’d tried slithering past security at my building, tried charming reception like she hadn’t fucked her way through half her career, but everyone had been briefed months ago. No access. No exceptions.
If she pushed the issue, the next step was simple, to call the police.
She got the message quickly enough.
God, the look on her face when she’d walked in on me ploughing Everly’s ass that day—it replayed in my head more often than it should. My girl had performed beautifully. Screaming for me. Calling me her Daddy. I hadn’t planned it, but I couldn’t have scripted a better ending to Eris’s delusions.
I should have left the women alone to get ready.
Of course I didn’t.
I strode down the hall and knocked. The door cracked open only an inch before Connie’s unimpressed face filled the gap. Then another figure pushed forward—Everly’s friend from university. Together, they formed a barricade of feminine disapproval.
“Is Everly okay?” I asked, craning my neck like I might see past them.
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Connie deadpanned, folding her arms.
“You look lovely, Connie,” I said, giving her pale blue dress an appreciative nod.
She didn’t blink. “Yeah, no. That’s not going to work. We’ll see you at the venue.”
Her friend grinned at me—teeth, dimples, and zero shame. She wore a dark navy top and skirt embroidered in gold, the matching scarf draped elegantly on her shoulder. Everly had told me she had two close friends: this one, Kiran, and another named Giselle, meeting us at the registry office.
“Fine,” I said loudly, raising my voice just enough for Everly to hear through the door. “I’ll see you soon, Everly.”
“Okay, go!” she shouted back, exasperated and adorable.
The door slammed shut with more force than necessary.
A deadbolt clicked.
I stared at the wood for a moment, then turned and walked off, fidgeting with my tie and exhaling a slow breath.
The minions could block me for now.
But Everly was coming.
And that was all that mattered.
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I didn’t wait inside. Instead, I paced out in the cold, waiting for Lawrence to bring her to me. The registry office stood tall and elegant, one of the city’s listed historic buildings. Its cream and gold decor was exactly what Everly had asked for—simple, tasteful, regal.
So where the hell was she?
“That’s your car,” Conrad said quietly beside me.
My head snapped around. Sure enough, my sleek black Bentley was easing around the corner. My breath caught the second I saw her through the window. The door opened—Giselle ran forward to help—and for a second, my feet wouldn’t move.
She wore a traditional Indian cream and gold ensemble.
Different from Kiran’s outfit. Her top was cropped, baring her midriff, and somehow it made her look even more radiant.
The sheer scarf was pinned into her hair, glittering with gold, and trailed down her back like a whisper of royalty.
She wore matching jewellery, the centrepiece resting against her forehead.
Her friend fussed with the scarf, adjusting it so it draped just right on either side. Her aunt had been about to rush forward, but paused when she caught my eye. I gave a quick nod.
Everly glanced between us and did a double take—recognition dawning slowly just before the woman pulled her into a teary embrace.
Eris had cut that side of her family out years ago. Burned every bridge the second they stopped handing her money. But somehow, these women—Everly’s kin—were here now.
The PI’s file had helped me find them. I’d quietly reached out after the sonogram.
There were tears, soft chatter, and careful dabbing of her cheeks as her friends tidied up her makeup. I still didn’t approach. This wasn’t my moment.
“Quickest divorce and remarriage I’ve ever seen,” Conrad murmured.
“When you know, you know,” I said without looking at him.
Finally, Everly turned toward me. Her eyes were glassy but sure. She walked slowly, surrounded by women who loved her, and for the first time in my life—I felt completely… undone.
She held out her hand to me, bangles jingling softly. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
I nodded, but I had to take a breath to steady myself. “You’re mine, Everly,” I said, wrapping her fingers in mine. “And I’ll always do whatever it takes to keep you smiling.”
Her fingers squeezed mine. Light caught the diamond I’d placed on her hand days ago. A perfect shimmer of gold and sparkle. Just like her.
“Now let’s make you Mrs Voss for life.”
She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue crumpled in her fist, then lifted her chin. Straightened her spine like the warrior she was.
Eris had tried to break her.
But I was going to build Everly into something higher than her mother ever dreamed of being.