The world tilted.
Kaelen's blood ran cold, fear flooding her senses and overriding the contempt she'd carefully cultivated for five years. She had built her life into an impenetrable fortress, brick by painful brick, and with one desperate, shouted word, Elias Thorne had cracked the foundation.
Silas.
How could he possibly know? The twins' full names—Silas Elias and Seth Alistair—were a carefully guarded secret, a final, reckless nod to the past she'd sworn to bury. The fact that the most feared, ruthless man in the city had plucked the name from the air, linking himself irrevocably to her child, was terrifying. It wasn't a guess; it was an innate, genetic recognition.
Rhys moved first. He was a man of action, not words. The moment Elias shouted the name, Rhys's large hand dropped from Kaelen's back to her hip, shoving her and the boys firmly behind the solid shield of his body.
"Get them out of here. Now," Rhys growled, his voice pitched low, carrying an animalistic snarl that went straight to Kaelen's survival instincts. He didn't even look at her; his entire focus was on the danger in front of them.
Rhys stepped forward, closing the distance to Elias. The air around them grew thick and electric, a battleground of Alpha male dominance. Rhys didn't bother with verbal threats; he simply raised his fist, muscles bunching in his forearm—a promise of immediate, bone-breaking violence.
Elias, still kneeling near the spilled roses, didn't flinch. He looked up, his face a perfect mask of defiance, his eyes burning with the manic obsession of a man who had everything to lose.
"Go ahead, Alden," Elias challenged, his voice dangerously soft. "Touch me. And I'll tell every reporter here that I'm fighting for custody of my twin sons."
The mention of custody, of the legal, public battlefield that would expose her children to the chaos of the Thorne dynasty, was the only thing that could have stopped Kaelen. It was the atomic bomb she had always feared.
"Rhys! No!" Kaelen launched herself forward, using her body as a clumsy, human wedge between the two towering men. She pressed her palms hard against Rhys's chest, forcing him back a single, reluctant step.
"Don't do this here," she spat, her voice tight with suppressed panic. "You will not make a scene."
Rhys looked down at her, his rage slowly yielding to his devotion. He was ready to protect her from physical harm, but he could do nothing against the legal threat Elias had just deployed.
Elias seized the opportunity, pushing himself to his feet. He looked directly at Kaelen, bypassing Rhys entirely, his gaze piercing. "You ran, Kaelen. I deserve to see them. I deserve to know them. You can't deny their blood."
"I denied you five years ago," Kaelen shot back, pulling her twins close, shielding them with her body. "And I deny you now. They have a father." She looked pointedly at Rhys, cementing the lie for the benefit of the surrounding, whispering crowd.
Rhys placed his hand on Kaelen's shoulder, a gesture that was both possessive and reassuring. "Let's go, Kaelen. We'll handle this through legal counsel."
But Elias wouldn't back down. He took a single, slow step toward them, forcing Kaelen to stiffen, her hands clenched white at her sides. This was the moment to introduce the theme, to define the core conflict of the contest.
"Legal counsel?" Elias scoffed, his eyes sweeping over the two figures—Rhys and Kaelen—who looked every inch the perfect, complete family he'd thrown away. "That's business, Kaelen. This isn't business. This is about us. You left five years ago because I broke what we had. It was a failure. It was broken."
He stepped closer, ignoring the dark promise in Rhys's posture. "But I'm not here to fix the broken past. That's impossible. I am here to tear down the walls you built and demand a new future. One where I don't miss another day of their lives."
He looked directly at Silas and Seth, who were staring up, confused by the shouting. "Tell me their names, Kaelen. Tell me my sons' names."
Kaelen felt the last vestiges of her control fraying. She knew she couldn't outrun him, not now that he had seen the boys. Elias Thorne would burn the city down to get what he wanted.
"We will talk," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not here. Not now. And not with him."
She motioned to Rhys. Rhys understood the concession. He nodded curtly, his hand never leaving her shoulder.
"Get the car," Rhys commanded his bodyguard, his eyes never leaving Elias. "I'll handle the paperwork."
Kaelen didn't wait. Dragging the twins, she rushed toward the exit, needing air, needing distance. She left Elias standing alone amid the scattered crimson roses, a man who had finally realized the true, devastating cost of choosing power over love. He was the most successful man in the city, and he was utterly, irrevocably alone with the knowledge that his rival was raising his children.