"They are my children," he said, and the possessiveness in his tone was absolute, primal. "My heirs. And they are currently unprotected in a small town with a media storm about to break. I am not asking, Evelyn. I am taking you home. And I am meeting my son and daughter."
He turned and walked toward the elevator, the manila envelope containing the proof of his fatherhood clutched tightly in his hand.
As the doors opened, he paused, looking back at her. The storm was back in his eyes, but now it was directed outward, at anyone who would threaten what was his.
"The world is about to learn about Leo and Luna Crowe," he said, his voice dropping to a low, determined whisper. "And God help anyone who tries to get in my way."
The doors slid shut, leaving Evie standing alone, the vindication of the DNA test now swallowed by a new, more profound terror. The secret was out. The monster knew the truth.
And now, he was coming home with her.
The limousine was a silent, rolling tomb. Seated across from Lysander, Evie watched the urban jungle of New York blur and gradually give way to the green-hued blur of the interstate. Each mile marker felt like a countdown to an execution.
He had spoken barely a dozen words since they'd left the penthouse. His attention was consumed by his phone and a sleek tablet, his fingers flying across the screens, issuing a steady, quiet stream of commands. He was a general mobilizing for war.
"...issue a pre-emptive statement through Aether Corp channels. No specifics. 'Mr. Crowe is addressing a private family matter and will make a formal statement in due course.' Deflect all press inquiries to corporate communications… No, Arthur, I don't care what the board thinks. Handle them… The jet is ready? Good. We're forty minutes out."
He ended a call and finally looked up, his gaze sweeping over her. She was still in the devastatingly elegant gown, now feeling ridiculous and crumpled.
A practical, expensive-looking cashmere wrap had been produced by Sebastian, and she had it pulled tightly around her shoulders, a flimsy shield.
"We'll land at a private airstrip near Bar Harbor. A car will take us the rest of the way to Cape Serenity," he stated, his voice all business. "Sebastian has already dispatched a preliminary security team to secure the perimeter of your… property."
Secure the perimeter. The words were so alien, so militaristic. Her little cottage with its peeling paint and wildflower garden, now a "property" needing a "perimeter."
"You can't just surround my home with armed men, Lysander," she said, her voice tight. "You'll terrify the children. You'll terrify the whole town."
"The alternative is a swarm of paparazzi trampling your flower beds and shoving cameras in their faces," he countered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "My way is safer. It's controlled."
"Controlled," she echoed, the word tasting bitter. "Is that all you care about? Control?"
His eyes narrowed, a flash of impatience in their silver depths. "In this situation, yes. Control is the only thing standing between our children and chaos. You may not like my methods, Evelyn, but you will acknowledge their necessity."
Our children. The phrase, spoken with such casual possession, sent a jolt through her. There was no 'your' anymore. In his mind, they were already his.
She turned to look out the window, refusing to grant him that acknowledgment.
The landscape was changing, the dense trees and glimpses of rocky coastline a balm to her frayed nerves. They were getting closer. The reality of what was about to happen pressed down on her, suffocating.
"When we arrive," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "you need to let me go in first. I need to prepare them. You can't just… appear."
He was silent for a long moment. She could feel his gaze on her profile, assessing, calculating.
"You have fifteen minutes," he conceded, a reluctant grumble in his voice. "But Sebastian goes with you to ensure the area is secure. And I will not wait long."
It was a small victory, but it felt like a lifeline. Fifteen minutes to try and explain the unexplainable to a five-year-old.
The rest of the journey passed in a tense silence.
The private jet was as sterile and imposing as the penthouse, a testament to a life of seamless, soulless luxury.
Evie stared out the window at the clouds, her mind racing, trying to find the words.
Your dream daddy is real. And he's a king from a scary, shiny world, and he's here now.
It was impossible.
The car ride from the airstrip was the longest of her life. As they turned onto the familiar, winding road that led into Cape Serenity, a deep, primal dread settled in her bones.
She saw the town through his eyes now the quaint, slightly shabby clapboard houses, the single main street with its mom-and-pop shops, the weathered dock. It was charming, but fragile. It wasn't built to withstand the force of Lysander Crowe.
Her cottage came into view, a small, gray-shingled structure perched at the edge of a cove, a riot of hydrangeas and lupines framing the front porch.
And just as he'd promised, it was already different. A sleek, black SUV was parked discreetly down the street, and a man in a dark polo shirt stood casually near her mailbox, an earpiece visible in his ear. He gave a slight nod as their car approached.
The gilded cage had been transported to her doorstep.
The car rolled to a stop. For a moment, no one moved. The air was thick with the salt-scented silence of the coast, broken only by the distant cry of gulls.
Lysander turned to her. The controlled mask was back, but she saw the tension in the line of his jaw, the almost imperceptible tightness around his eyes. He was nervous. The realization was staggering.
"Fifteen minutes," he repeated, his voice low.
Evie nodded, her throat too tight for words. She fumbled with the door handle and stepped out onto the familiar gravel of her own driveway.
The cashmere wrap slipped from her shoulders, but she didn't care. She was home.
She walked toward her front door, Sebastian a silent shadow a few paces behind. She could feel Lysander's gaze burning into her back from the car window.
She took a deep breath, her hand trembling as she reached for the knob. She was about to break her children's world wide open. And she had no idea if she could put it back together again.