Chapter 17 #2
Charles’s voice carries across the driveway. “She’s finally leaving! Marcus is going to escort her to the guest house, make sure she actually stays there.”
He’s jogging back toward us, and all three men take a subtle step back. Creating distance. Making it look casual instead of conspiratorial.
“Sorry about that,” Charles says as he reaches us, completely oblivious to the tension crackling in the air. “Aria always has to make everything about her.” He glances at his watch. “We should finalize the arrangements for tomorrow. Viewing at seven, service at nine.”
“And security?” Jace asks, his voice back to professional neutrality. “For family?”
“Standard protocols,” Charles says, looking at me. “Extra detail on Parker and the boys since this is their first public appearance.”
My stomach clenches. “Is that necessary?”
“Yes,” all four men say simultaneously, and the unanimity would be funny if it weren’t so concerning.
“People will be curious,” Charles explains. “About where you’ve been. About your children.” He hesitates. “It’s better to be cautious.”
About whether my sons are Carter heirs. About who their father is. About whether they represent a threat or an asset to the various families watching our every move.
“Fine,” I say, because fighting it seems pointless. “But the boys stay close to me.”
“Agreed,” Jace says immediately, and something in his voice makes it clear he means that in more ways than one.
A crash from inside the house, followed by Noah’s distinctive laugh and Liam’s exasperated “Noah!”
“I should go,” I say, grateful for the excuse. “Before they destroy something priceless.”
I start toward the door, but Silas’s hand catches my wrist. Just for a second. Just long enough for me to feel the heat of his skin, the barely restrained strength in his fingers.
“One day, firefly,” he says quietly. “Then we talk.”
I pull free and keep walking, past Cal, who’s watching me with those amber eyes that see too much, past Jace, who stands like a soldier and looks at me like I’m a tactical problem that just got infinitely more complicated.
From the doorway, I see Aria getting herself together by the moving truck. She’s wiping her eyes, fixing her hair, trying to compose herself.
Then she looks back toward the house. Toward where the three men are still standing with Charles.
Her eyes find Silas.
Even from here, I can see the way her expression shifts. Something desperate. Something pleading.
Silas doesn’t look at her. Deliberately keeps his attention on whatever Charles is saying, his body angled away from her like he’s physically rejecting her presence.
Aria’s face crumbles. Not from embarrassment about being thrown out. Something deeper. Something that looks like actual heartbreak.
“Help me with my things?” she calls out, her voice trying for casual but landing somewhere around desperate. She’s looking at all three of them, but her eyes keep returning to Silas. “The truck is almost loaded, but there are a few heavy boxes—”
“Marcus has it,” Charles says without looking at her.
“But—” She takes a step toward them. Toward Silas specifically. “Silas?”
He finally looks at her. Just for a second. And whatever’s in his expression makes her physically flinch.
“Busy,” he says flatly.
Aria’s hands clench into fists. Her eyes fill with tears that look more real than any she shed during her dramatic exit.
Silas doesn’t respond. Just turns his back on her completely, his attention returning to the other three, like she’s not even there.
Like she’s nothing.
Aria makes a sound that might be a sob or might be a laugh. Then she climbs into the passenger seat of the moving truck, her shoulders shaking while I stand in the foyer where Sienna is waiting with a glass of water I didn’t ask for but desperately need.
“That looked intense,” she murmurs.
“Which part?” I take a long drink, my hands shaking. “The part where I physically removed Aria? Or the part where three men I haven’t seen in six years just found out I have children?”
“They seemed shocked,” Sienna observes carefully. “About the boys.”
“Everyone’s always shocked.” I hand the water back. “Single mom to twins. People assume the worst.”
“I don’t think that’s what shocked them,” Sienna says softly, and something in her tone makes me look at her sharply. “The way they looked at you when you said five years old—” She stops herself. “Never mind. It’s none of my business.”
But it is. It’s everyone’s business now, whether I’m ready or not.
Through the library doorway, I can hear the children laughing. Noah’s voice—bright and excited, pure Cal in miniature. Liam’s quieter response—measured and thoughtful, so much like Jace, it makes my chest ache.
My sons. My beautiful, perfect, innocent sons who have no idea their entire world is about to change.
I walk toward the library, toward the sound of their laughter, and try to memorize this moment. This last moment of peace before tomorrow, when we’ll stand at a graveside, and three men will finally see what I’ve been hiding.
When the truth stops being mine to control.
When everything changes.