"Okay," Elara agreed softly. If he wanted to bond with their
children early, she wouldn't stop him. How could she?
She rested her cheek against his chest, the solid muscle a firm pillow
beneath her skin. The steady thump-thump of his heart was a soothing rhythm, a
lullaby just for her. His warm breath fanned her hair, carrying the subtle,
clean scent of her own shower gel—a strangely intimate detail that made her
lips curl into a secret smile.
His strong arms held her securely, one hand splayed possessively over
her belly through the soft fabric of her nightgown. The other hand picked up a
book, and his voice, deliberately softened to a low, magnetic murmur, began to
read near her ear:
"Hello, little one. It's me. It's your dad. In here, it must be all
swooshes and hums, a cozy, watery world of soft sounds. But I hope you can hear
me. I'm right here, just on the other side."
Elara had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud.
The sight of the formidable Silas Thorne, his stern features softened in the
lamplight, using that coaxing, baby-talk tone was both heart-meltingly sweet
and utterly comical.
Drowsiness began to pull her under. Just as she was drifting off, she
felt the softest press of his lips against her forehead—a whisper of a touch,
tender and reverent, as if she were his most prized treasure.
"Sleep well, baby," he murmured, his voice a husky promise.
"We'll have to trouble you to look after our little ones a while
longer."
Her lips parted in a sleep-slurred mumble, a sound that might have been
"okay," but she was already lost to her dreams.
In her dreams, she saw him. Silas, with a toddler perched happily on his
broad shoulders, another small hand clutching his. She followed behind, her
heart full as the sound of childish, silver-bell laughter filled the air. Both
children turned, their faces blurred but their joy palpable, calling out to
her, "Mummy, hurry up! You're going to lose us..."
The next morning, Elara found Silas not in his office, but in the living
room, deep in conversation with Ethan.
Seeing her, Silas immediately stood up. He tossed a command over his
shoulder to Ethan. "Send Ben to Italy to handle things first. You're
coming back to Oakhaven with me."
"You got it, Boss." Ethan grinned, his eyes twinkling as he
waved cheekily at Elara. "Morning, Mrs. Thorne!"
After the trip back from Italy, he'd finally pieced it together—the
little bunny had been well and truly scooped up by the wolf, and now there were
cubs on the way. The Boss didn't do anything by halves, especially when it came
to claiming the woman he wanted.
"Good morning, Ethan," Elara replied with a warm smile.
Before she could say more, Silas's arm was around her, steering her
toward the dining room. "Don't mind him. Let's get you some
breakfast."
Internally, Silas made a note. Ethan was too young and too smooth with
his words for Elara's current circle. Best to keep him at a slight distance for
now.
"Alright," Elara said, assuming the order was purely business.
She didn't give it a second thought.
As she finished her last bite, Silas's hand came up, a tissue in his
fingers. Gently, he wiped the corner of her mouth. Her ears flushed a brilliant
crimson, her lashes fluttering like nervous butterflies. She couldn't bring
herself to meet the intense, simmering gaze she knew was fixed on her.
This man... his affection was a slow, potent poison, seeping past all
her defences and stealing its way straight into her heart.
"I have to deal with company matters today," he said, his
smile evident in his voice. As he pulled his hand back, the pad of his thumb
lingered, tracing a slow, deliberate line over the fullness of her bottom lip.
A jolt of heat shot through her, her lips tingling with the phantom
touch. She leaned back with a soft, indignant huff, her eyes glistening as she
shot him a playful glare.
"Understood," she said, her tone coy.
His smile only widened. As they reached the door, he added, "Take
Brooke with you if you go out."
"Mm-hmm." Elara nodded. After witnessing Brooke's formidable
skills at the Thorne ancestral home, her curiosity about the female bodyguard
had skyrocketed. Having another woman around was simply more convenient, too—no
more awkwardness of a male guard waiting outside a restroom.
She had lunch plans with Chloe.
After Silas drove off in the Cullinan, the vintage green Rolls-Royce
remained for her. With Brooke at the wheel, they arrived at the restaurant
early, securing a prominent table. Brooke insisted on sitting separately, so
Elara let her take the table next to theirs.
Just two minutes later, Chloe burst in, her backpack slung over one
shoulder.
"Elly!" she beamed, rushing over for a quick hug.
After a flurry of excited greetings, they ordered. As they waited for
their food, Chloe launched into hilarious stories from her break, her face
animated.
But soon, her expression darkened with anger. "Elly, you have no
idea how disgusting Vivian is being. She showed up at Aeternum this morning,
parading around like she's Julian's rightful wife! She's nothing but a mistress
who stole her best friend's boyfriend!"
She continued her furious tirade, and Elara listened patiently before
pushing a glass of water toward her. "Here, have a drink."
Chloe was so openly passionate and loyal—a personality Elara truly
valued. Looking back, why had she ever been so close to Vivian? Perhaps it was
Vivian's masterful performance of vulnerability, her constant tales of a
miserable home life—parents who favoured her brothers, a childhood of neglect.
In that broken girl, Elara had seen a shadow of her own loneliness. It had
blinded her. She had wanted to help, to support her in every way.
She never realised that in Vivian's eyes, every kindness was just
condescending pity.
A faint, self-mocking smile touched Elara's lips.
"Thanks," Chloe said, taking a long gulp of water. Then, she
studied Elara's face intently. Her features were still exquisitely delicate,
but the lingering sadness that once haunted her eyes was gone, replaced by a
serene confidence.
"You know, Elly," Chloe said, her voice softening.
"Seeing you like this... I can finally stop worrying about you."
Elara paused, then let out a genuine laugh. "What, did you think I
was putting on a brave face for you, pretending to be happy?"
Chloe tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling sheepishly.
"Maybe a little."
Their conversation was interrupted by the buzz of Elara's phone. The
screen flashed: Uncle Robert Hayes. She hadn't heard from him in a while.
She answered. "Uncle Rob?"
"Elly," Robert's voice came through, heavy with reproachful
resignation. "Have you written your uncle off completely? If the head of
the BA department at Aeternum hadn't mentioned it, I wouldn't even know you
were leaving for Oakhaven."
Elara hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Uncle Rob, that was
Silas's decision to make. Not mine."
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a weary sigh. "It
must be exhausting, being married to a man as domineering as he is."
He didn't wait for a reply. "When are you leaving? Bianca is
heading to Italy for her studies in a couple of days. She wants to apologise to
you in person. She knows she was terribly selfish before. You two girls are the
only descendants left in the Hayes family. I don't want to see you grow apart
and never speak again, like your father and me... It's a regret I carry to this
day."
He took a deep, shuddering breath, his voice laced with a plea.
"So, here's the plan. Come home for dinner tonight. The whole family. And
if Silas has time, please bring him along."
At the mention of her father, a shadow passed over Elara's eyes. She was
about to formulate a polite refusal when Robert's voice pressed on, dropping a
hook she couldn't ignore.
"I also have something to give you—something your father left for
you."