Chapter 25
25
Cecely
Morning comes far too soon. The only good thing about it? Waking up wrapped in Claudius. His warmth surrounds me, his arm draped possessively over my waist, his slow, steady breathing tickling my neck.
I should move. But I don’t. Instead, I snuggle closer, inhaling the familiar scent of leather and spice that always seems to cling to him.
For just a moment, I let myself exist here. No family drama. No hidden basements. No ghosts creeping into my room in the middle of the night.
Just this.
But reality comes crashing back too fast. Gabriel was here. And I need to tell Claudius. Maybe it’ll be enough to stop my sperm donor and his perfect little family from arriving. Maybe it’ll be enough to change everything.
Claudius stirs behind me, his grip tightening, his body shifting until I feel all of him pressing into me.
His voice is gravelly, thick with sleep. “Morning.”
“Morning.”
I need to tell him. I should tell him. But before I can even open my mouth, Claudius shifts behind me, his warmth seeping into my skin, his breath hot against my neck.
“Morning,” he rasps again, this time lower, rougher.
A slow, delicious shiver runs down my spine. Damn it.
Focus, Cecely. Gabriel was here. You need to?—
I gasp as his lips brush my shoulder. Lazy and unhurried. The hand resting on my stomach drifts lower, his fingers tracing soft, teasing circles over my skin.
“Claudius.” My voice is meant to sound firm, but it comes out breathless. Weak.
I feel his smirk against my skin. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The bastard.
“Yes?” His voice is nothing but dark amusement as his hand continues its slow, agonizing descent.
I need to just tell him.
But then he nips my neck, just enough to make me shudder.
His lips travel lower, slow and deliberate, his touch teasing and possessive.
A gasp slips from my mouth as his fingers slide to my heat.
“Claudius…”
His name leaves my lips like a prayer, like a surrender.
And he knows it. He feels it. His hand moves higher, then lower again, teasing me, torturing me. Never quite giving me what I need. What I want.
“Please.”
And then he’s there, at my opening. Slowly, he slides into me. I press back into him, tilting to give him better access, silently begging him to continue. He does. Harder. Deeper. More. My body arches, my breath catches, the slow, lazy roll of his hips against me leaving me completely undone.
This isn’t a game anymore. This isn’t just lust. It’s complete surrender. And for the first time, I don’t care. I let him ruin me. I let him own me. Because God help me, I want him to.
When I finally come down, I exhale. The world feels different now. Slower. Softer. Like the fire between us has burned so hot, so wild, that all that’s left is the warm, golden embers. I don’t move. Neither does he. His body is still pressed against mine, his breath warm against my neck.
For a moment, we just exist. No words. No complications. Just him. Just me.
His fingers ghost along my skin, and I sigh, content in a way I don’t understand, in a way that should probably scare me.
Because this? This is dangerous. Not just the way he feels against me. It’s the way I feel right now. The way I don’t want to leave. The way I don’t want him to leave.
I should move. I should say something.
But then, Claudius does something that shatters me completely. He presses a kiss on my temple. Soft. Unthinking. Unpracticed. Like it was instinct. And that? That’s more intimate than anything else he’s done to me.
My breath catches and I know what I need to do.
“Gabriel was here last night.”
The warmth of Claudius against me vanishes. Not physically. Not yet. But I feel it. The shift. The tension. The way his body stills, his breathing sharpens, his grip tightens like I just set off a bomb between us.
“What?” His voice is flat. Cold.
I exhale slowly, steadying myself. “Gabriel was here. When I woke up.”
I feel his fingers twitch against my skin, like he’s fighting the urge to move. I moisten my lips, forcing myself to push through the unease curling in my gut.
“He knows you’re bringing my sperm donor here.”
Silence. Thick. Suffocating.
Then Claudius moves. He shifts onto his back, his arm dragging away from my waist, his warmth replaced by something colder. Something dangerous.
I sit up, watching him carefully.
His jaw is clenched so tight I swear I can hear his teeth grinding. His eyes are hard, stormy, unreadable.
And then, in a voice so low it barely sounds like him, he speaks. “Tell me everything.”
I swallow hard, shifting so I can face him fully.
“I woke up to him touching my foot.”
Claudius’ fingers flex against the sheets, his jaw locking even tighter.
I push forward.
“At first, I thought it was you.” I exhale. “But the way he spoke? The way he smiled?” I shake my head. “It wasn’t you.”
Claudius doesn’t react. Not outwardly. But the energy in the room shifts. The air thickening, charged with something dangerous.
Still, I keep going.
“He wasn’t violent. He didn’t threaten me.”
Claudius’ expression doesn’t change. But I see it in his eyes. That means nothing to him. Because Gabriel doesn’t have to be violent to be dangerous.
“He said something strange.” I wet my lips, trying to remember every detail. “He said people pay millions for high-tech security, but they forget that since you and he are identical, your security reads his face the same way.”
Claudius curses under his breath.
I continue, my heart pounding. “He asked if I remembered being with him before. If I remembered how he felt inside of me.”
Claudius snaps. Faster than I can react, he’s out of the bed, pacing the room, his movements controlled but deadly.
I don’t stop.
“He asked if my sperm donor was here yet. That’s how I knew he already knew.”
Claudius stops mid-stride. His gaze cuts to mine.
“How?” His voice is razor sharp. “How does he know?”
I shake my head. “I asked him the same thing. He said he overheard you on the phone.”
Claudius’ eyes darken.
“Impossible.”
I shrug. “Not if he’s been following you.”
The words hang between us. Claudius says nothing. And that? That terrifies me more than anything. Because if he’s not denying it, then that means it’s possible. And that means Gabriel might be closer than either of us realized.
Claudius stares at me, his mind already moving a mile a minute, calculating, planning, strategizing. I see it on his face. That cold, controlled detachment. The way he’s pulling away from me even as he stands right there.
And I’m done with it.
“Why won’t you just tell me everything?”
His head snaps toward me, his eyes flashing with something dark and unreadable.
“What are you talking about?”
“Gabriel. I’m talking about Gabriel.” I stand, closing the space between us. “You never tell me the full truth about him. You never give me more than I already know. Why?”
“Because there are things you don’t need to know.”
I laugh. A sharp, humorless sound. “That’s not your choice to make.”
“It is when knowing could get you killed.”
I don’t flinch. I won’t.
“Newsflash, Claudius. Gabriel already found me. He already got into this house, into your bed, into your damn security system. And you still think keeping me in the dark is going to keep me safe?”
His breathing is even, controlled, but I see the cracks. The way his fingers twitch. The way his lips press into a thin, hard line. I step closer, refusing to let him escape behind whatever cold, detached armor he’s trying to pull back up.
“I deserve to know who he really is. Who you both really are. And why you’re so afraid of him.”
Claudius exhales sharply, his hands dragging through his hair.
For the first time since I’ve known him, he looks uncertain. Like he’s debating whether to tell me the truth… or keep lying to protect me.
“Please, just tell me.”
“No.”
“Claudius—”
“I said no.” He takes a step from me. “Perhaps you should move your things back in to your old room.”
His words settle over me like cold ice.
“No.”
His eyebrow lifts. “No?”
“No. Do you want to know why?” I don’t give him a chance to respond. “I’m not moving back to my old room because that’s not what people in a relationship do!”
“Funny. I wasn’t aware that we were in a relationship.” He moves closer. “In fact, I didn’t think of you once when I left yesterday.”
His words hit like a slap. Cold. Calculated. Designed to cut deep. But I don’t let him see it. Instead, I lift my chin, refusing to give him the reaction he wants.
“I’m not going to engage with you when you’re being like this.”
His eyes flash, but I don’t give him a chance to speak. I push past him, heading straight for the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind me.
Let him have his little fit.
Let him push me away.
It doesn’t matter.
Because I meant what I said. I’m not going anywhere. And whether or not he likes it, neither is this.
By the time I step out of the bathroom, he’s gone. No note. No lingering presence or even the scent of his cologne. Just empty space where he used to be.
I refuse to let it bother me.
Instead, I move to my closet, sifting through the clothes Claudius bought me. What does one even wear to meet the father who abandoned them? I’m not dressing up for him. But I don’t want to look like a mess, either. Finally, I settle on a flared black skirt and a deep purple top. Flattering, but comfortable.
And most importantly? It hides the slight curve of my belly. I hesitate. Then, before I can stop myself, my hand presses lightly over my stomach. A part of me is still trying to process the reality of it. This tiny life inside me. Something that’s mine. Something that’s already changing everything.
I exhale, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m going to have to figure out what to do about you.”
The words hang in the air. I can’t keep you a secret forever. And I shouldn’t. I know that. But it’s not safe. And the thought claws at me, sharp and unforgiving. I haven’t been to a doctor yet. What kind of mother does that make me?
Sighing, I grab a pair of sandals and exit the bedroom. When I reach the first floor, I hear Claudius speaking to Agnes in low, clipped tones.
I pause in the doorway, my pulse ticking up.
“…all moved before they get here.” Claudius’ voice is firm, absolute.
Agnes nods sharply. “Yes, sir. I can do that.”
I don’t know what they’re talking about. But the fact that it’s happening now, right before my father arrives, well, it can’t be a coincidence. I step forward, making my presence known. Claudius’ head snaps up, his eyes unreadable.
“Good morning,” I greet. “Agnes, did you tell Claudius that you threatened me yesterday?”
Claudius’ entire body tenses.
His eyes snap to Agnes, sharp, demanding. “What?”
Just one word. But it’s enough to make Agnes stiffen. Enough to make the air between us thick with tension.
I have to bite back a smirk. Good. Let’s see how she enjoys being the one caught in his crosshairs.
Agnes’ lips part, shocked but careful. Calculating. She recovers quickly, her expression smoothing into something neutral.
“I wouldn’t call it a threat, sir.”
I scoff. “No? Because ‘you have no idea what you’re dealing with’ sure sounded like one to me.”
Claudius’ gaze darkens, shifting back to Agnes.
And, for the first time since I’ve met her, she looks nervous. But only for a second.
“I was only trying to warn her.” Her voice is smooth, composed. “For her own good.”
I snort. “Right. Because you care so much about my well-being.”
Claudius doesn’t look away from her. His voice is lethal when he speaks.
“Explain.”
Agnes doesn’t flinch. Instead, she tilts her chin up slightly, her expression smoothing into something calm and rehearsed.
“Sir,” she begins, her tone even, carefully controlled. “I was only trying to prepare her.”
“Prepare her for what, exactly?”
Agnes exhales, as if she’s the one who’s been wronged here. “For what’s coming. For her father’s arrival. For the changes that are about to happen in this house.”
I scoff. “That’s funny, because it felt a lot more like a warning to me. Maybe even a threat.”
Agnes turns to me, her expression still frustratingly composed. “If I wanted to threaten you, dearie, you would know.”
Claudius takes a step closer to her.
“That’s the wrong answer, Agnes.” His voice is low, lethal. “Try again.”
Agnes finally drops her innocent act. Just slightly. She lets out a breath, as if she’s resigned to this conversation.
“Sir, with all due respect, you brought her here knowing the dangers.” She gestures at me. “She walks around this house like she has nothing to fear, but she doesn’t understand what’s at stake.”
Claudius’ eyes narrow. “And you do?”
Agnes meets his gaze head-on. “I know enough to say that she isn’t ready for what’s coming. You know that as well as I do. You just don’t want to admit it.”
I feel Claudius tense beside me. He doesn’t like that answer. I don’t either. Because no matter how much she tries to spin this, she’s still hiding something.
A chill crawls up my spine.
Because I’d bet my life that whatever she’s not saying…
Whatever she’s so desperate to twist, spin, deflect…
It has something to do with the basement. With Gabriel.
I step forward, crossing my arms. “You keep talking about what’s coming, about what I don’t understand. So why don’t you explain it to me?”
She tilts her head, feigning patience. “I already have, dearie. You simply don’t want to listen.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, no. See, I think you’re still lying.”
Claudius is silent beside me, but I can feel his attention locked on Agnes. I press forward.
“You’re hiding something.” My heart pounds, but I don’t stop. “And I’m guessing it has to do with the basement.”
This time she flinches. Small. Barely there. But I see it.
Claudius sees it, too. His eyes narrow, his body going completely still.
“Is that true, Agnes?” His voice is calm. “Are you hiding something from me?”
Agnes’ lips part, but no words come out.
I step in again. “What’s in the basement, Agnes?”
She presses her lips into a thin line. And suddenly, I know. I know whatever is down there, it’s something she never wanted me to find.
“Well?”
Agnes doesn’t answer. She just stands there, her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes flicking between us. Weighing her options. Trying to figure out how much she can get away with.
Claudius doesn’t give her the chance. He steps forward, slow, deliberate, his presence shifting into something darker, heavier.
His voice drops to something lethal.
“We asked you a question, Agnes.”
We. The single word sends my heart cheering, as if we’re a team.
Her throat bobs, but she keeps her face carefully neutral. “Sir, I only meant?—”
“I don’t give a damn what you meant.” His words are razor-sharp, cutting straight through her excuse. “Enough with the games. What’s in the basement?”
Agnes exhales slowly, like she’s choosing her words with precision.
“There are things better left alone, sir.”
Claudius doesn’t blink. “And yet, here we are.”
A beat. Then another. Finally, Agnes squares her shoulders. And when she speaks, her voice is quiet. Heavy.
“The basement holds the past.”
A shiver runs down my spine.
Because the way she says it…it’s not just a warning.
It is a threat.
But before anything else can be asked, the doorbell chimes.