The DNA report felt like a lead weight in Elara's hands. The
words on the page blurred before snapping into sharp, terrifying clarity. Not a
match.
Julian was not Silas's son.
The revelation stole the air from her lungs. Her mind raced,
connecting the jagged pieces of the puzzle. His sudden trip to Italy, the
immediate DNA test upon his return, the vicious attack that had nearly taken
his life… and the persistent, venomous rumour that he was infertile.
It all led here.
A cold dread trickled down her spine. If he had raised a son
for twenty-two years who wasn't his, what other lies had been woven around him?
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she clutched the report tighter. He had
promised no more secrets. It was time he kept that promise.
Downstairs in the dining room, the air was thick with a
different tension. Silas sat, impeccably composed, sipping herbal tea from a
porcelain cup. Across from him, Ethan grinned like a wolf, while Ben's usually
cheerful baby-face was frozen in a scowl.
"Boss, you've got to see this video," Ethan
chirped, leaning forward with undisguised glee. "Valenti's villa went up
like a firework. Him and his boys had to jump out the window—buck naked! So
much for being the big, tough mafia don. When our guys shoved a gun in his
face, he pissed himself right there on the marble floor. They dragged him out
like the snivelling coward he is."
A dark smile played on Silas's lips. "I trust he's
being made... comfortable."
"Extremely," Ethan confirmed, his eyes glinting.
"It's a speciality of ours. He'll be begging for a death that won't come.
I took the liberty of sending the footage to his dear old father and his
half-brothers. A little family sharing."
Silas gave a faint, approving hum. "Keep him alive. For
now."
Elara descended the stairs, her steps silent on the plush
carpet. But at Ethan's last words, she froze. Three pairs of eyes snapped to
her, and she felt like she'd stumbled into a shadow world she wasn't meant to
see.
"Mrs. Thorne!" Ethan straightened up, his grin
turning charmingly sheepish. "Ben and I were just leaving. Don't want to
be third wheels." He slung an arm around Ben, who immediately shoved him
off.
"Get your paws off me. I'm not your bloody
girlfriend," Ben grumbled, stomping away with Ethan chuckling on his
heels.
Once they were gone, Elara exhaled slowly and approached
Silas. His gaze was heavy, knowing.
"Finished reading?" he asked, his voice a low
rumble.
She nodded, sinking into the chair opposite him.
"Mm."
She studied him—the sharp line of his jaw, the inscrutable
darkness in his eyes. He seemed utterly unshaken, which was somehow more
disconcerting.
"You and Julian... you're really not..." The words
felt foreign on her tongue, even after seeing the proof.
"The report is genuine," Silas confirmed, leaning
back lazily. "The tests were conducted yesterday."
Elara twisted her fingers together, her mind a whirlwind.
After a long moment, she voiced the question that terrified her most.
"What are you going to do about him?"
Would he confront Julian? Cast him out? After twenty-two
years, surely there was some affection there?
Seeing the worry etched on her delicate features, Silas
stood and moved behind her. His large, warm hands settled on her shoulders, and
he leaned down, his lips close to her ear, his breath ghosting across her skin.
"All you need to know is that, for now, nothing changes
between him and me." His voice was a soft, intimate whisper. "I
intend to draw out the big fish behind all of this. Is that clear?"
Elara's breath hitched. "The big fish... you mean the
one who spread the rumours about you being infertile?"
"Yes."
A memory sparked. "Is it that uncle of his? Steven
Cohen?" she whispered, turning her head to meet his dark eyes. "On
the cruise ship, he kept harping on about it. He said a young wife like me
would have no security with an... older husband who couldn't give her children.
He implied that everything you have is rightfully Julian's."
A blush crept up her cheeks as she recalled her own retort.
"I was so angry I told him that an elderly husband with a young wife would
naturally pamper me. That I'd coax you into leaving your entire fortune to me,
so Julian would get nothing."
A slow, dangerous smile spread across Silas's face.
"There's no need to doubt it. You've even mentioned the age gap between
us. How could I not dote on you? What if one day you find me too old and kick
me out?"
His tone was light, but his eyes were intense, holding hers
captive.
Elara lowered her gaze, her voice a soft murmur.
"Aren't you afraid of ending up with neither wealth nor companionship in
your old age?"
"Not afraid." His chuckle was a low vibration.
"Unless I die... wherever you run off to, I'll drag you back."
Even in death, she would be his. In this lifetime and the
next, she could only ever be his Mrs. Thorne.
"...Arrogant," she breathed, though the word
lacked any real bite.
Seeing his amused expression, she quickly steered the
conversation back. "You still haven't answered me. Was it Steven?"
The amusement vanished from his face, replaced by an icy
chill. He pulled out the chair beside her and sat down, his voice dropping to a
frigid timbre.
"He's the last of the Cohen family. Everything Elora
did to me back then—he was involved in it all."
"Elora Cohen... Julian's mother?" Elara's heart
hammered against her ribs. "Why would she scheme against you?"
Silas's jaw tightened, his entire body radiating a bitter
coldness that seemed to freeze the very air around them. Elara clenched her
hands, waiting in silence for him to resurface from the painful memories.
"Before she died, her mind was already...
fractured," he finally said, his eyes dark and distant. "I owe her a
life. So when she went mad and, without my consent, used my sperm to conceive a
child and place him in my arms... I kept him."
The icy, piercing truth slammed into Elara, her eyes
widening in utter shock. Without my consent. The phrase echoed in her mind,
horrifying and tragic.
"...It was IVF? You only found out after he was
born?"
"Yes." His voice was flat, the single word holding
a universe of betrayal and obligation.
Elara's thoughts spun. She had always assumed Julian was
born of a past love. She never imagined the truth was so twisted, a chain of
debt and manipulation. And if Elora had used his sperm, how was Julian not his?
Had the procedure failed? Had the child been switched?
Seeing her furrowed brow, the storm in Silas's eyes
softened. He reached out, his large hand cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking
her soft skin. The touch was grounding, real.
"The history between me and the Cohen family can't be
explained in a few words. I will tell you everything, in time. For now,
settling the score with Steven is my priority. Your priority is to take care of
yourself and the life growing inside you." His gaze dropped meaningfully
to her stomach.
The warmth of his palm seeped into her, a silent promise.
"I understand," she said, her voice steady. Her role was clear: to be
his sanctuary, not another burden.
After a moment, she changed the subject. "I need to go
to Aeternum Corp tomorrow. I'm meeting Chloe."
Silas's thumb traced her cheekbone once more before he
withdrew his hand. "Alright. Do whatever you wish. I'll support you."
He paused, then added, "Take Ben with you tomorrow."
Knowing it was for her safety, Elara nodded without
argument. "Okay."
The next morning, as Silas emerged from the bathroom, a
towel slung around his neck, he stopped short at the sight of his wife.
Elara stood before him, a vision of youthful charm. She wore
a light purple cropped puffer jacket over light blue wide-leg jeans, with a
creamy white beanie perched atop her glossy black curls. A dainty handbag was
slung across her body, completing the fresh, casual look that made her look
every bit the beautiful university student.
She was utterly lovely.
And it made him feel every one of his thirty-seven years.
His gaze was so intense and prolonged that Elara glanced
down, self-conscious. "What? Does it not suit me?"
"It looks lovely, darling. You look lovely in
anything," he said, a faint smile touching his lips. Internally, he was
making a note to overhaul his own wardrobe, which leaned heavily towards dark,
sombre tones. Perhaps it was time for a change.
His compliment, delivered with such intensity, made her
cheeks flush. "Well, you go get ready. I'll head down for breakfast. I
need to meet Chloe by ten-thirty."
As she turned to leave, his hand shot out, gently catching
her arm. "Wait."
She paused, looking back at him in question.
"Don't rush. Wait for me. I'm heading to Aeternum as
well."
Elara blinked. He was going? He hadn't mentioned it
yesterday.
"Don't overthink it. It's a spur-of-the-moment
decision," he said, as if reading her mind. He gave her a gentle nudge,
his large hand patting her pert behind with a familiar intimacy.
Elara yelped, her face flushing a brilliant crimson. She
shot him a glare that was more flustered than furious before darting out of the
room.
"Don't walk too fast! Mind your stomach!" his
voice, laced with indulgent exasperation, followed her. She skidded to a halt,
her hand flying instinctively to her belly, before continuing at a more sedate
pace towards the elevator.
True to his word, he was swift. She had barely finished half
her breakfast when he strode into the dining room, looking devastatingly
handsome. He wore a dark knee-length wool coat over a light grey turtleneck,
the simple sophistication radiating his steady maturity and power. His hair was
perfectly styled, and the stubble from the previous days was gone, revealing
the clean, sharp lines of his jaw. He looked vibrant and, frankly, dazzling.
Even the housekeeper, Martha, was impressed. "Mr.
Thorne, you look exceptionally dashing today!"
Elara had to agree, but concern quickly overrode her
admiration. "Your arm," she chided gently. "The wound hasn't
healed. You need another anti-inflammatory drip today. The doctor said you
should rest."
Silas sat beside her, flexing his injured right arm
slightly. "Look, it's fine. I've had worse. I'll just avoid any strenuous
movement. I'll get the drip after I've handled my business. It's not a
problem."
When it was clear he wouldn't be swayed, a flicker of
annoyance crossed Elara's face. She shot him a sidelong glance and pointedly
focused on her breakfast. Silas raised a brow, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
His little wife was getting more and more temperamental. He found he rather
liked it.
After breakfast, they gathered gifts for Chloe and prepared
to leave. Ben, seeing the boss suddenly decide to join them, masked his
surprise and simply activated the satnav for Aeternum Corp.
The vintage green Rolls-Royce glided silently into the
company car park. The combination of the luxury car and its striking occupants
was impossible to ignore.
"I'm going to find Chloe," Elara said, turning to
Silas. "What about you?"
"I have an office here," he replied smoothly.
Not wanting to draw more attention by walking in with the
CEO, Elara quickly said, "See you later," and made a beeline for the
office building, leaving him behind.
Silas watched her retreating figure and chuckled softly. Was
she already tired of his company?
"Boss," Ben's voice cut through his thoughts,
suddenly tense. "Young Master Julian."
Silas's smile vanished. He turned his head to see a black
Mercedes G-Wagon pull up beside them. The door opened, and Julian himself
stepped out, his expression unreadable.