Lucian sat in silence long after Caelum stormed out, the echo of his words replaying in his mind like a curse.
"The child is yours."
He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out Victoria's trembling voice calling his name.
"Lucian… say something!" she pleaded.
But he didn't.
He couldn't.
He turned to her slowly, his expression unreadable now — the hollow look in his eyes returning, colder than before. "Please, Grandmother," he said quietly, "I need to be alone."
Victoria stepped back, worry creasing her features as Lucian walked past her without another word. His footsteps echoed down the marble hall until the heavy door of his study slammed shut behind him.
He leaned against the door, shutting his eyes for a brief moment — before straightening, composed yet trembling inside. His mind raced back six weeks ago… the night everything blurred. The night he couldn't remember.
He strode to his desk, grabbed his phone, and called Elias. His tone was sharp, commanding — the voice of a man desperate to regain control.
"Elias," he said, "I want every CCTV footage from my penthouse six weeks ago. The night I was drugged."
There was a pause on the other end before Elias answered, his voice laced with unease. "Right away, sir."
Hours later, Elias arrived at the Velmore estate, breathless from haste, clutching a sealed envelope. He hesitated at the door of the study — the faint scent of liquor filling the air. Lucian sat behind his desk, a half-empty glass of bourbon beside him, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his tie loose — and the exhaustion in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Sir," Elias said quietly, placing the envelope on the desk. "These are all the security recordings from that night. I've checked the files myself—none of them were deleted."
Lucian lifted his gaze slowly, his voice calm but heavy. "Elias," he said, swirling the drink in his hand, "answer me honestly. That night… when I was drugged… did Caliste visit me?"
Elias froze.
He had been waiting for this question for weeks — praying it would never come.
Lucian's eyes sharpened. "You heard me," he said, his tone low, dangerous. "Was she there?"
Elias swallowed hard. "Sir…"
"Tell me the truth, Elias."
Finally, Elias lowered his gaze, guilt written all over his face. "Yes, sir," he whispered. "She came."
Lucian's grip on his glass tightened, the veins in his hand showing. "And you didn't tell me?"
Elias hesitated, voice trembling. "Miss Caliste… she begged me not to. She said… she didn't want you to know she came while you were in that state."
Lucian's hand froze midair. For a moment, he couldn't speak. The room seemed to tilt around him as the pieces started to fall into place — the gaps in his memory, the sudden closeness, the inexplicable connection he felt since then.
"She begged you?" he repeated softly, disbelief flickering in his eyes.
Elias nodded. "Yes, sir. She said it was better if you never remembered that night."
Lucian leaned back in his chair, eyes darkening. His thoughts spiraled — the pregnancy… her fear… his confusion.
It all made sense now.
He stood abruptly, knocking his glass over, the liquor spilling across the desk. Elias flinched but didn't move.
Lucian's voice dropped, filled with both anger and pain. "Elias… bring me the footage. Now."
"Yes, sir." Elias quickly connected the flash drive to the screen. The silent video flickered to life...Caliste appeared on the screen, her face etched with worry when she enters the penthouse, then three hours later she came out and talks to Elias telling him dont ever mention to anybody that she came.
Lucian stood motionless, his face pale as if all air had been stolen from the room.
He turned away from the screen, whispering to himself, "He was telling the truth…" His hand trembled as he ran it through his hair. "That night… I am with her"
Elias stood in silence, unsure what to say.
Lucian's eyes glistened with something rare — regret. He whispered, "And I accused her… of being with Caelum."
The weight of his mistake hit him full force. He slammed his fist on the table, shattering the empty glass, blood streaking across his knuckles.
Elias stepped forward in alarm, but Lucian only whispered, "I left her to die… with my child."
Lucian Velmore the man who had always been composed, untouchable, and cold felt the crushing pain of guilt he could never undo.
He sank into the chair again, covering his face with his hand as the reality tore through him.
-----
Victoria Velmore stood near the grand entrance, her fur shawl drawn tightly around her shoulders.
She had been waiting for Elias.
Moments later, Lucian's loyal assistant emerged from the shadows of the drive, his steps quick and careful. The man looked visibly weary..eyes red, expression grim...as if burdened with a truth too heavy to carry.
Victoria's voice came out low, trembling slightly with restrained urgency.
"Elias… tell me the truth."
Elias hesitated. He looked at her, then away, as though searching for the right words.
"Madam Victoria…" he began softly. "I shouldn't be the one to say this."
Her eyes sharpened. "I asked you a question, Elias. Is Lucian the father of Caliste's unborn child?"
The silence that followed was deafening. The faint sound of the fountain and the rustle of night wind filled the space between them.
Finally, Elias exhaled and lowered his head.
"Yes, Madam," he said quietly. "Mr. Velmore… he just confirmed it himself."
Victoria's breath hitched, her hand tightening around her shawl. She felt the air leave her lungs, and for a moment, her world seemed to tilt.
"I see…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "So, it's true."
Elias bowed respectfully. "If you'll excuse me, Madam, I'll take my leave."
When he was gone, Victoria stood motionless at the top of the marble steps. The cold breeze tugged at her hair, but she didn't move. Her heart ached, not just for the scandal that now loomed over the Velmore and Vellaria names...but for the tragedy of the people she loved most.
Two grandsons.
One woman.
And a love that could destroy them both.
She looked up toward the mansion windows, where Lucian's light still glowed faintly through the curtains.
"He's my own blood," she whispered, her voice breaking. "And yet… I've raised him like a soldier, not a man who knows how to love."
Tears welled in her eyes as memories flashed—Lucian as a boy, quiet and obedient, never crying even when hurt. She taught him strength, composure, control—but not how to hold someone when they were breaking.
And now that flaw had destroyed the only woman who ever softened him.
Victoria's chest tightened painfully. "I thought I was protecting him," she murmured, trembling. "But all I did was teach him how to lose love."
Her eyes glistened in the dim light. "And now… Caelum suffers too. That boy loves with all his heart, and yet, he stands in the shadow of his cousin's past."
For a long time, she remained there, gazing into the darkness...an old matriarch burdened by the weight of her family's sins.
Finally, she drew a deep breath, straightening her back despite the heaviness in her chest.
"If anyone must end this chain of pain…" she whispered, "then it will be me."
Victoria turned and walked back toward the mansion, her steps slow but steady...her mind already turning toward what must be done.
Tomorrow, she would confront both her grandsons.
But tonight, she prayed...for forgiveness, and for one final chance to make things right.