Chapter 26
26
Cecely
Claudius looks at me. “That will be your father.”
My stomach tightens, my pulse pounding in my ears. I should have been ready for this. But now that it’s actually happening… I feel like I’ve just been shoved into ice water.
Agnes recovers first.
“I can let Mr. Blanc in.” Her voice is even, but something about it feels… off.
Claudius doesn’t even look at her. His attention is still locked on me.
His voice is calm, controlled. “You’ve done enough, Agnes. You may retire to your room.”
Silence.
I see the flicker in her expression. Just for a second. But then, just as quickly, she smooths it away.
“As you wish, sir.”
She gives me one last look. And then she disappears down the hall.
Claudius turns toward the door, rolling his shoulders back. Readjusting. Centering himself. Like he’s preparing for war. And maybe he is.
He glances at me. “Are you ready?”
Am I? No. Absolutely not. But I lift my chin anyway.
“Let’s go meet my dear old dad.”
He gives me a long look and then nods. He takes my hand, gently looping our fingers together. The moment his skin brushes against mine, something shifts. My pulse flutters. For a second, I wonder if I should pull away. But I don’t.
Instead, I let him lead me to the door. He opens it, stepping aside. Standing in the doorway is an older man, his face weathered with years and decisions I can’t begin to understand. Beside him is a woman, her posture prim and perfect, as if she’s been taught to always look composed, even in the most uncomfortable situations. Like this. Behind them are two women close to my age. Their faces almost mirror images of my own features. I meet their gazes.
My lips part in surprise.
There’s no denying that we’re somehow related. They’re my sisters. The resemblance is too obvious to ignore.
But before I can process it all, the older man’s voice cuts through the silence.
“Fucking hell, Irons. You were supposed to hide her until later.”
His words hit me like a ton of bricks—shocking, harsh, and full of anger. I feel Claudius’ grip on my hand tighten, but he doesn’t flinch.
“This is the time, Blanc.” His voice is icy, controlled.
I want to speak, but my mouth goes dry.
This man—this father of mine—seems to have the same icy, calculating demeanor that Claudius does. But there’s something different, something darker about him.
“You don’t get to make that call! I do.”
Tension crackles in the air, heavy, pressing against my skin. But before either of them can say another word, a voice cuts through the tension.
“Are you serious right now, Dad?”
It’s one of my sisters. She steps forward, her arms crossed, her expression sharp with disbelief.
Her eyes, that are so much like mine, burn into Blanc.
“You’re mad that she’s here? You should be mad that we’re only meeting her now.”
The other woman—the younger one—nods slowly, her brows furrowed, her lips slightly parted like she’s still processing this.
“You knew about her all this time.” Her voice is softer than her sister’s, but just as cutting.
How do they know this?
Blanc’s jaw clenches. “This isn’t the time.”
“Oh, it’s exactly the time,” the first sister snaps. “You’ve controlled everything our whole damn lives. And now, what? We’re just supposed to act like this is fine? Like she doesn’t exist?”
Her gaze shifts to me. For a moment, she just stares, studying me. Then her arms uncross, and she takes another step forward.
“I’m Alyssa.” A pause. “And this is Bonnie.”
Bonnie offers a small, hesitant nod. “Hi.”
I stare at them, my throat suddenly tight. I was expecting anger. Rejection. Hostility. Not… this. Not them calling out our father before I even had to.
I blink, trying to find my voice.
“Cecely.”
Alyssa smirks faintly. “Yeah, we know.”
Bonnie’s eyes flick to my hand that’s still tangled in Claudius’. A small furrow forms between her brows, but she doesn’t ask. Not yet. Instead, she takes a breath and says something that shatters the moment completely.
“I always wanted another sister.”
Blanc groans, raking a hand down his face. Claudius? He just smirks. And me? I don’t know what the hell to feel.
“Girls, explain to me this instant how you knew about… this .” Their mother waves a manicured hand in my direction like I’m a problem that needs fixing.
Like I’m an inconvenience. Like I’m not a person standing right in front of her. My face burns and my fingers twitch in Claudius’ grip, but I don’t move. I won’t let her see that it gets to me.
Alyssa, however, isn’t having it.
“This?” Her voice is sharp, dripping with sarcasm. “Wow, Mom. Way to make her feel welcome.”
Bonnie shifts uncomfortably beside her, her gaze flicking to me, apologetic. But their mother? She barely acknowledges it.
Instead, her eyes narrow, her posture tightening, her perfectly styled hair still impeccable despite the tension in the room.
“That doesn’t answer my question, Alyssa.”
Alyssa huffs, shaking her head. “Neither of you are as good at keeping secrets as you think you are.”
Blanc’s jaw locks. “Alyssa?—”
She barrels forward.
“We heard you arguing the other night. Didn’t take much to put two and two together. That dad had a mistress and a secret love child.”
Her mother’s lips press into a thin, hard line, saying nothing.
Bonnie finally speaks. “The only surprise is that she’s our age. We kind of hoped she was a baby at first, so we could be in her life from day one.”
I watch them, stunned. They knew about me. All this time, they knew. Maybe not my name. Maybe not where I was. But they knew I existed. Wanted to know me, even. Somehow, it makes me feel connected to them in a way I didn’t think was possible.
Blanc exhales sharply. “And you never thought to bring this up before, in private?”
Bonnie’s gaze turns sharp. “Like you would’ve told us the truth?”
Claudius makes an inaudible sound of amusement. Their mother, however, isn’t amused. Her glare snaps back to me.
“And what exactly do you want from us?”
Her tone is cool. Calculated. Like she thinks I’m here to steal something from them. Like I’m the threat in this situation. My pulse spikes, but I don’t hesitate.
I lift my chin. “I want nothing from you.”
And God help me, it’s the truth.
Her eyes narrow. “I find that hard to believe, Cecily.”
She says my name wrong. If it’s deliberate, I can’t be sure—but I don’t miss the condescension in her voice.
Before I can respond, Claudius steps in. His tone is like a blade. Sharp, smooth, and unforgiving.
“It’s Cecely. With an e, not an i.” A pause. A challenge. “Get it right or keep her name out of your mouth.”
My heart slams against my ribs. He didn’t just correct her. He defended me. In front of my father. In front of my sisters. In front of the woman who clearly wishes I didn’t exist.
The silence that follows is thick, tense.
Blanc’s wife’s lips part slightly, like she can’t believe someone just spoke to her that way. Blanc? He watches Claudius carefully, measuring. And my sisters? Alyssa smirks, clearly enjoying the show. Bonnie looks at me like she’s just realized something important. Like she’s wondering exactly what I am to Claudius.
The silence lingers, stretching between us, thick and charged. Blanc’s wife still looks like she’s swallowing glass, debating whether to lash out or let it slide.
I exhale slowly, my pulse still racing. Then, before I can talk myself out of it, I turn to him.
“Thank you.”
Two words. Quiet. Measured.
But they seem to catch him off guard. His head tilts slightly, his gaze flicking to mine, something undetectable flickering in his expression. For a moment, I think he’s going to brush it off. To make some cocky remark, pretend it didn’t mean anything.
But he holds my gaze. And then his hand tightens around mine. Not much. Just enough. Enough to tell me he heard me. That he understood. And that maybe, just maybe, I’m not as alone in this as I thought.
Blanc clears his throat, shattering the moment. His gaze snaps to Claudius, then to me.
“Enough of this. I didn’t come here for dramatics. I came here because my family was attacked, and I need answers.”
His voice is sharp, impatient. But I don’t look away from Claudius. Because that was the moment. The smallest shift. The kind that changes everything. And no one can take that away from me. Not even my father.
Claudius says, “I will show you to your rooms. Your other guest will arrive soon.”
The reaction is instant. A flicker of confusion, unease. Even Blanc looks surprised at the public announcement. But it’s his wife who speaks first, her perfectly curated mask cracking just slightly.
“Guest?”
Her voice is sharp, wary. Like she already suspects she won’t like the answer.
Alyssa’s brows furrow. “Who else is coming?”
Bonnie glances between her parents, then at Claudius, clearly picking up on the tension. Blanc’s jaw tightens. But he doesn’t ask. Which means he already knows.
I swallow, heart pounding. Because I know, too. There’s only one person missing from this equation. And the second Claudius looks at me, his gaze heavy, unreadable, I know for certain.
My mother is coming.