A heavy, suffocating feeling settled in Elara's chest as she listened to
the tragic, tangled history. It was a Gordian knot of betrayal, vengeance, and
tragic misunderstanding with no clear villain, only victims.
Steven Cohen blamed Silas for abandoning his sister to a horrific fate,
for not turning back.
Silas could never have predicted the Mafia's betrayal or the specific
nature of the brutality Elora would face. He certainly hadn't planned his
near-fatal crash.
Even Elora herself had likely never imagined such a monstrous outcome.
It was a cruel twist of fate, a chain reaction set off by a feud that
began before any of them were born.
"So," Elara ventured softly, her head resting on his chest,
"the IVF happened after that?"
"Yes." Silas's hand continued its soothing rhythm on her back,
but his eyes, staring into the middle distance, were shadowed and hard.
"After the assault, her mental state shattered. Severe depression,
self-harm. Steven pressured me relentlessly to 'do the right thing' and marry
her. I refused. After that, they both disappeared from my life for a long
time."
"That car accident left me paralysed. I was treated in Italy.
Ingrid, terrified the Winslow line would end with me, had my sperm frozen
immediately after my surgery."
"It was over a year later when Elora showed up at the hospital,
holding a newborn. She claimed it was conceived via IVF using my frozen sample.
She even had a DNA test to prove it." He let out a short, bitter breath.
"You know the rest."
After a moment of heavy silence, Elara lifted her head to meet his icy,
resolute gaze.
"She loved you... deeply," she whispered. It was less a
question and more a horrified realisation.
The intensity of that love, as recounted by both him and Steven, was
frightening.
"I do not love her." His reply was immediate and absolute,
leaving no room for doubt. "She saved my life, and for that, I will always
be grateful. I feel profound sympathy for the horror she endured. But gratitude
and pity are not love, and they are not a foundation for marriage. With the
blood feud between our families, it was an impossibility."
"She used underhanded means to have a child to force my hand. The
fact that I did not have her eliminated for that deception was the greatest
kindness I could offer."
Before the families broke, Elora had always hidden her true nature from
him, playing the role of a gentle older sister. It was only after the tragedy
that her inherent madness and obsession were laid bare.
Elara fell silent under the weight of his cold gaze. Though he didn't
say it, she could feel the undercurrent of guilt he still carried for Elora.
But even that guilt had been corroded by her manipulative schemes.
"Do you know how she died?" she asked softly, not wanting to
pry open old wounds but needing to understand.
A cynical, pained smirk twisted his lips. "She set herself on fire.
She doused the Cohen's Italian estate in gasoline and burned it to the
ground—with herself and her parents inside."
Elara recoiled, her heart seizing with a violent tremor. "She...
killed her own parents? Why?"
"She knew her misfortune originated with them. After the assault,
those monsters kept using the video to blackmail her parents. She grew to hate
them for their weakness, for not avenging her, for allowing those men to hold
that humiliation over them forever."
"Compounded by the fact that even bearing my child couldn't force
me to marry her, her mind broke completely. She believed that by dying in front
of me, by making me watch, she would brand herself onto my soul forever. That I
would spend the rest of my life haunted by her, burdened by the guilt of
failing her."
Elara was speechless. There were no words to describe the sheer,
self-annihilating extremity of such an act.
Now, looking back, it seemed entirely in character for a woman so
obsessive to have conceived a child that wasn't even Silas's, all to create a
living, breathing weapon to torment him. Perhaps it was her final, twisted
revenge—to make him raise another man's son, only to have the truth shatter his
world later.
But to die for it? To never see the fruit of her own elaborate scheme?
Elara found the logic utterly baffling and tragic.
Silas took a deep breath, pulling her from her thoughts by pinching her
cheek gently. "Enough. Stop dwelling on ghosts. You need to rest. In a
couple of days, when we've settled this business with Julian, everything
connected to Elora will be in the past. We will live our own life. Now,
sleep."
Elara blinked, her cheeks still squished. She nodded vigorously to show
she understood.
Silas chuckled at her adorable expression. He lifted her chin and
captured her lips in a firm, possessive kiss.
"Go to sleep."
Her heart flared with warmth, but before she could deepen the kiss, he
pulled away. He pressed her head firmly against his hard, warm chest, his voice
a hoarse command.
"Sleep."
With a discontented little tug at the buttons of his loungewear, Elara
inhaled his clean, familiar scent. Lulled by the steady beat of his heart,
drowsiness finally pulled her under.
The next morning at ten, the small lounge outside Elara's suite was once
again a stage for high drama.
This time, both Ingrid and Arthur were present, their presence adding to
the tense atmosphere. All eyes were fixed on the bespectacled doctor from the
Forensics Department.
Old Lady Thorne's gaze was particularly sharp, a hawk waiting to pounce.
The doctor remained unflappable, adjusting his glasses before addressing
Silas.
"Mr. Thorne, the results from yesterday's tests are ready."
Silas gave a slight nod. "Report the findings directly to the
Matriarch."
"Understood."
The doctor picked up two reports. He opened the first one.
"The first is the paternity test between Mr. Silas Thorne and Mr.
Julian Thorne." He paused, ensuring everyone was listening. "The
analysis confirms that there is zero probability of a biological
relationship."
A muscle in the old lady's jaw twitched, her knuckles turning white
where she gripped her cane. She said nothing, her stony gaze fixed on the
second report.
"The second report concerns the kinship analysis between Old Lady
Thorne and Mr. Julian Thorne..." The doctor's eyes flickered between the
old woman and Julian. "The two individuals share no blood relation
whatsoever."
"Impossible!" The word burst from the old lady's lips, her
face paling. "There must be some mistake... How could there be no
relation...?"
Her reaction was strange, almost frantic. Was she disputing the lack of
relation between Julian and Silas? Or the shocking revelation that she herself
shared no blood with the boy she had called her great grandson for over twenty
years?
"Madam," the doctor replied, his tone turning cold and
professional. "Our equipment and methodologies are the most advanced
available. An error of this magnitude is impossible."
The old lady seemed not to hear him, her eyes wide and unfocused as she
muttered to herself, "It can't be... How is this possible?"
Her demeanour wasn't just one of anger, but of someone whose entire
world had just been fundamentally upended.
"Thank you, Doctor. That will be all." Silas dismissed him
with a nod.
The doctor's expression softened slightly. He left two copies of the
reports on the table and strode out, his white coat flapping behind him.
The air in the room froze solid.
Arthur's gaze was locked on the old lady, his eyes dark and inscrutable,
his lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.
Julian took a deep, shuddering breath. He lifted his head, his gaze
sweeping over the faces in the room before finally landing on Silas's impassive
one.
"The Thorne family's kindness in raising me... I will remember it
always," he began, his voice thick with a bitter pride. "However you
decide to deal with me now, I will not complain. Though the blood in my veins
is not Thorne blood, I have lived in its shadow and splendour for over twenty
years. For that, I am... grateful."
His young, gaunt face was a mask of stoic resignation as he bowed deeply
to Silas.
Ingrid and Arthur watched him, their expressions a complex mix of pity
and relief.
"It is best that you understand this," Silas said, his tone
cool and measured.
"Since you share no blood with the Thorne family, you will revert
to your birth name, Julian Cohen. The assets currently under your control will
remain with you; the Thorne family will not reclaim them. However, from this
day forward, you are severed from the Thorne family. I will make a public
statement to that effect. Henceforth, your actions and endeavours have no
connection to the Thorne or Winslow names."
A wave of pure, unadulterated bitterness washed over Julian. Raised for
over two decades, and was there no affection at all? No sense of family, blood
or not?
Was it his fault he was born a pawn in a game he never asked to play?
They all looked at him with disgust, as if he were a bug to be crushed. What
had he ever done to deserve this?