Isadora met Elara's gaze, her expression unreadable. For a moment, it seemed like she would speak, would reveal what Elara desperately wanted to know. But instead, she sighed and looked away.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "For everything my son has done. I'll try to fix it."
Elara's breath hitched. That wasn't an answer. That wasn't what she asked. But before she could press further, Isadora turned on her heel and walked away, her expensive heels clicking against the ground.
Elara watched her go, a deep unease settling in her chest. Isadora had known something. She had chosen silence.
And Dominic—Dominic had wanted her to come. Which meant he had already accounted for everything.
She clenched her fists. How far ahead was he thinking?
---
The knock at the door was abrupt. Too soon after Isadora left.
Sylvia stiffened beside her. "Who is that?"
Elara exchanged a wary glance with her sister before stepping forward and pulling the door open.
A man stood there, dressed in dark, expensive clothing. His presence was imposing, yet his face was smooth, unreadable. He extended a folded piece of paper toward her.
Elara didn't take it immediately. "What is this?"
"If you really want to meet Dominic Lancaster," the man said, his voice eerily calm, "this is his address."
Elara's heart pounded.
"Who are you?" Sylvia demanded, stepping forward. "And why are you giving us this?"
The man—Claudius, she realized—said nothing more. He simply gave them one last unreadable glance and turned, walking away as silently as he had arrived.
Sylvia muttered a curse under her breath. "Who the hell does he think he is?"
Elara swallowed hard and unfolded the paper. The address was written neatly in black ink, as if Dominic himself had taken the time to write it. Of course, he knew. He always knew.
She took a shaky breath. "I started this." Her grip on the paper tightened. "I need to end it."
Sylvia turned to her sharply. "You are not going alone. You know that, right?"
"Sylvia—"
"I'm coming with you. No argument."
Elara didn't fight her. She knew Sylvia wouldn't budge.
And Elias? He wasn't here. He had gone out again, searching for another job, trying to piece his life back together while Dominic pulled all the strings from the shadows.
That left just the two of them.
---
Somewhere across the city, in the vast, opulent estate of the Lancaster family, Dominic stood in the center of a grand room, adjusting the cufflinks on his tailored shirt.
The place was immaculate—set just the way he wanted it.
Every chair was positioned precisely, every light dimmed just enough to cast the perfect shadow. He had orchestrated every last detail.
A slow smirk curved his lips.
They would be here soon.
And he was ready for them.
Elara and Sylvia arrived at the modern, sleek entrance of the Lancaster estate—a building of glass and steel that radiated quiet power. The security personnel, efficient and discreet, recognized them immediately. Dominic had been expecting their arrival.
Inside, the space was filled with natural light and minimalist design. The sisters were escorted along a polished corridor until they reached a spacious, open lounge where Dominic lounged on a sofa, his smile hinting at hidden amusement.
Elara's pulse raced as she stepped into the quiet, shadowed lounge. There, in a worn leather chair that spoke of long, secretive nights, sat Dominic. The air between them crackled with unspoken history and raw emotion.
"Dominic," she said, her voice a blend of defiance and fragile hope, letting the name echo in the stillness.
A slow, wry smile tugged at his lips. "Oh, so you finally know my name," he replied, his tone carrying that familiar edge of arrogance softened by amusement. "No longer an arrogant stranger. It's… nice, actually, to hear it."
Her eyes, searching his face for truth, trembled. "I need to know—why are you after us? What have I done to deserve this fury? If I've erred, please, tell me."
Before he could answer, Sylvia burst into the space like a living flame. "Stop with your pleasantries, Dominic! Your actions speak for themselves, and they're unforgivable!" Her words sliced through the tension, fierce and unyielding, as she stepped between them like a guardian.
Dominic's smile wavered, his gaze hardening ever so slightly. "Sylvia, your passion is noted," he said, his tone measured but firm. "This is a conversation for Elara and me alone."
Elara's voice, barely a whisper yet full of pleading determination, filled the silence. "I'm begging you—explain why you've turned against us. What have we done to ignite this relentless pursuit?"
Leaning forward, Dominic's voice dropped, heavy with secrets. "It isn't about a single mistake, Elara. It's about the path I've chosen—a path I believe must be taken, regardless of the cost." His eyes flickered with a storm of conflicted emotion. "But your insistence on seeking the truth… it adds an unexpected weight to all of this."
Sylvia's rebuttal was quick and scathing. "Unexpected weight? This isn't your twisted amusement, Dominic! Lives are at stake, and you treat our pain like a game!"
His gaze shifted to her, cool and unyielding. "Sylvia, your anger only clouds the truth." Turning back to Elara, he gestured toward a secluded corridor, away from the clamor of confrontations. "Elara, come with me. We'll settle this in private. I owe you an explanation that isn't drowned out by shouting."
Elara hesitated, glancing back at Sylvia—her fierce protector—and then allowed herself to be led away. As the door closed behind them, Sylvia's angry protests faded into the silence of the room, leaving her alone with the echo of their unresolved battle.
In that dim, private space, Elara braced herself. She didn't expect to find any remnants of trust between them—there had never been any. All she sought was a chance to earn a place on his good side, to understand why Dominic's wrath had been kindled. With each step into the unknown, she hoped that tonight might finally reveal the reasons behind his relentless pursuit—and perhaps, just perhaps, open a door to a future where his anger could be tempered by understanding.