Elara didn't answer.
Victor watched her with the same patience he reserved for business negotiations.
He wasn't waiting for words. He was waiting for hesitation.
She gave it to him "Neither."
Victor nodded once "I didn't ask which one interested you."
"I know what you asked."
"No."
He reached for the untouched glass of whiskey, turning it once in his hand "You answered a different question."
Silence settled between them.
Elara crossed her arms "What exactly are you trying to prove?"
Victor looked at her for a long moment "When you were six," he said, "you lied to your mother."
Her brows drew together "I don't even remember being six."
"But I do."
"You broke a porcelain vase."
"I blamed Julian, didn't I?"
"You blamed the maid."
Elara blinked.
Victor continued as if discussing quarterly profits, "Do you know how I knew you were lying?"
She didn't answer, "You looked at the person you were trying to protect."
The words landed softly, far too softly.
Victor met her eyes "Children think guilt points toward themselves."
"It doesn't."
"It points toward what matters."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Victor set the whiskey back on the table "When I mentioned Sebastian"
"You became annoyed."
"When I mentioned Alaric, you became careful."
Elara forced a laugh "You're overanalysing."
"No."
"I've spent thirty years reading boardrooms."
"I don't misread people."
Her heartbeat quickened despite herself.
Victor noticed "I warned you," he said quietly.
"The Virements are not a family, they're a battlefield."
"You can survive, Sebastian."
His gaze hardened almost imperceptibly "I'm no longer certain you can survive Alaric."
Elara held his stare "And what if you're wrong?"
Victor's expression didn't change "I hope I am."
For a fleeting second, she almost believed him. Then he stood.
"There will be a press luncheon tomorrow."
She frowned "What luncheon?"
"The one you're attending."
"I never agreed to"
"No."
"You weren't asked."
He removed his spectacles. "The engagement has attracted attention."
"So beginning tomorrow, you will no longer go anywhere without security."
Elara's stomach tightened "I already have security."
"You had security."
Victor walked toward the door "Tomorrow, they'll be mine."
He paused with one hand on the frame, "Oh"
Without turning around, he added, "I've also instructed them"
"That if Alaric Virement approaches you, they are not to ask questions first."
Victor left.
The study fell silent. Only after the door clicked shut did Elara realise something.
Her father hadn't forbidden her from seeing Alaric. He had simply made it almost impossible.
The warehouse remained silent. The man sat with his wrists bound to the chair, his breathing uneven.
Across from him, Alaric hadn't moved in nearly two minutes.
Kael had seen men break under torture; he'd seen them break under pain.
Silence was different. Silence forced people to think.
People who thought too much usually destroyed themselves.
The man finally shifted, "...Aren't you going to ask me anything?"
"No." The answer was immediate.
The man frowned "No?"
Alaric looked at him as though the question itself was strange "You'll speak."
"And if I don't?"
"You will."
"How can you be so sure?"
Alaric's gaze never left him "Because you've already made three mistakes."
The man's expression tightened "I haven't said anything."
"You didn't have to."
Alaric leaned back slightly "When you woke up, you looked at the west exit first."
The prisoner blinked "You expected someone to come through that door."
Silence "When Kael mentioned money"
"Your eyes moved."
"Not toward him, Toward the ceiling."
"You've hidden something here before."
The man's breathing slowed.
"When I asked why you followed me, you answered too quickly. You already had that lie prepared."
Another pause, "But the fourth mistake..."
Alaric's voice became quieter "Is the interesting one."
The man stared.
"You aren't frightened."
Kael looked at the man again. Alaric was right.
He was nervous, sweating, but not terrified, not like someone who believed he was about to die.
Alaric folded his hands "Which means..."
"...someone promised you'd leave this warehouse alive."
The man's face lost all colour, and neither man spoke.
Then, for the first time since entering the warehouse, Kael heard uncertainty in Alaric's voice.
"The question is who made a promise inside my warehouse."
The apartment was quiet, not peaceful. Just quiet.
Clara had never realised how loud loneliness could be.
The television murmured in the background, though she wasn't watching it. A cup of tea sat untouched on the coffee table, long since gone cold.
She looked at her broken phone again. She forced herself to put the phone down.
He was busy. He always had been.
Her hand drifted to her stomach almost without thinking.
A small smile escaped her "You'll meet your father soon," she whispered.
The words sounded far more convincing in her head.
A knock echoed through the apartment. Three slow knocks.
Not impatient or aggressive, Just Certain.
Clara smiled before she even stood "I knew it"
She hurried to the door, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear "You really took your ti—"
She stopped. A woman stood outside. She looked like a pretty, fancy old woman.
White blonde hair with styled Low Chignon, an expensive Burberry coat with diamond studs.
No smile.
She looked expensive, like someone who could stand out even in a funeral.
"...Yes?"
The woman didn't answer immediately. Instead, her eyes drifted to Clara's stomach.
Then, back to her face, "You shouldn't be alone."
Clara frowned "I'm sorry... do I know you?"
"No."
"Then, but I know who you are."
Something about the way she said it made Clara's stomach tighten.
The woman reached into her pocket.
Clara instinctively stiffened. Instead of a weapon, she pulled out a folded ultrasound photograph.
Clara's breath caught. It was hers, the exact one she'd hidden inside her bedside drawer.
For a second...
Her mind refused to understand what she was looking at "How"
Her voice barely came out.
The woman watched her carefully "You should lock the door tightly. "
Clara didn't move "I asked you a question."
"So did I." Silence.
Then the woman turned around, Just Walked away, no threats, no explanation.
No attempt to stop Clara from closing the door.
Confused, Clara slammed it shut and hurried toward her bedroom.
She froze.
Every drawer had been opened the wardrobe doors stood wide open.
Nothing had been stolen or broken.
It looked as though someone had searched every inch of the room and carefully put everything back.
Everything except the ultrasound photo.
Clara's breathing became shallow.
Someone had been inside her apartment. Someone had stood beside her bed.
Someone who knew she was pregnant.
A sharp knock sounded again. This time, it came from her bedroom window.
Clara turned slowly.
There was no one there. Only the curtains are still moving.