Chapter 13
1501 Words
“You stupid fool.”
Alistair Windsor’s voice thundered across the room.
Declan stood quietly in the middle of the large foyer while his father lashed into him.
“How hard is it to protect one woman? How hard?!” his father roared.
“Alistair…” his mother called quietly.
They had spoken to Elysia’s mother only a few minutes ago.
Eleanor had hoped Elysia was with her mother. That she had left the house and gone there before the fire broke out.
But the call hadn't gone the way they'd hoped.
The media outlets had already carried news of the fire, and they couldn't imagine what would happen if they got wind that their daughter-in-law had gone missing in the fire when everyone else had made it out.
“It’s not like I set fire to my own house, Father,” Declan retorted.
That seemed to infuriate his father even more. His hand connected sharply with Declan’s cheek, the sound echoing through the foyer.
Declan stumbled back, his eyes widening in shock.
Eleanor gasped and rushed to her son.
“Enough, Alistair,” she cried. “He's your son, for God's sake.”
She stepped in front of Declan instinctively, one arm wrapping around him as though shielding him from another blow.
Silence settled over the room as father and son stared at each other like two men on the verge of war.
“You have twenty-four hours to find your wife and bring her home,” his father said at last.
His voice was low now, but somehow far more frightening than the shouting had been.
“Or else...” He let the words hang between them. “You can forget about being a Windsor.”
Declan stood frozen, still trying to process the words his father had just thrown at him.
You can forget about being a Windsor.
His chest rose and fell heavily.
His mother's hand came up to his cheek, gently touching the spot where his father had struck him.
“I'll find her,” he said quietly, his voice strained.
One day—just one day—he was going to stand up to his father.
He never had before.
Alistair Windsor had raised him with control, discipline, and an iron hand. Defying him had never felt like an option.
“You'd better,” his father said before turning and storming out of the room.
Silence settled over the foyer.
Barely a minute later, Declan's phone rang.
He pulled it from his pocket and answered without bothering to check the caller ID.
“Young master, Miss Ashford has refused to eat or rest until she sees you.”
Mrs. Whitmore.
Declan closed his eyes briefly before opening them again.
God.
This was the last thing he needed right now.
“I'm on my way,” he said simply before ending the call and slipping the phone back into his pocket.
“Where are you going?” his mother asked, concern etched across her face.
Declan didn't answer.
He grabbed his car keys from the key stand and headed straight for the door.
“Are you going to see that woman again?” she called after him.
He didn't stop.
He simply gripped the doorknob, flung the door open, and stepped out into the cold evening air.
“That woman is no good for you,” his mother called after him. “She's going to ruin you.”
Declan didn't answer.
He walked down the front steps, got into his car, and sat there for a moment with both hands gripping the steering wheel.
He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.
This was driving him insane.
How had Elysia's disappearance created so many problems for him?
His eyes lifted to the house.
His mother was still standing by the front door, her arms wrapped around herself.
Whether it was from the cold or something else, he couldn't tell.
A few moments later, the engine roared to life.
Then he pulled out of the driveway and drove off.
The drive to the hospital was quiet.
Twice, Declan caught himself blinking for longer than he should have.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on him.
At one point, the car drifted slightly before he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and forced himself to focus on the road.
Thirty minutes later, he pulled into the hospital parking lot. And remained in the car for another five minutes.
He needed to breathe. Needed a moment to himself before he had to deal with Victoria's tantrums.
When he finally stepped out, he leaned against the side of the car and lit a cigarette.
His thoughts drifted to Elysia.
“Where are you?” he muttered to no one in particular.
He stared up at the sky. It was getting dark, and it looked like it was about to rain.
He pulled the abortion consent form from his back pocket, the half-smoked cigarette hanging stubbornly between his lips.
His eyes dropped to the paper.
Both parties involved may sign upon mutual agreement.
The words were listed among the consent requirements.
None of it made sense to him.
Yet somehow, it did.
Why would Elysia, who had spent years fighting for their marriage, suddenly want an abortion?
He knew she loved him. Knew she had always wanted a family with him.
So why this? Why now?
It couldn't have been because of what happened at the dining table that evening.
No matter how angry she had been, it wasn't enough to explain this.
Oh well...
He would find her sooner or later. Preferably sooner.
And he would fix this.
If Elysia was really pregnant, his parents would never allow her to have an abortion.
Neither would he.
He flicked the cigarette butt to the ground and crushed it beneath his shoe.
Then he slipped the consent form back into his pocket and headed into the hospital.
“That woman in Ward Five is so nosy and annoying.”
Two nurses whispered as they walked past him on his way to reception.
“How does her husband even put up with her?” one of them scoffed. “She's seriously overdoing it.”
“Maybe she thinks being blonde with blue eyes means she can charm everyone,” the other replied.
Both nurses burst into quiet laughter.
The mocking kind.
Declan paid them no attention. It wasn't his business. Nurses gossiped about patients all the time.
At least, that's what he told himself.
“I'm here for Victoria Ashford,” he said when he reached the reception desk.
“Oh, the troublemaker?”
The receptionist giggled before she even bothered checking the records.
“Ward Five. Down the hallway and to your left.”
Declan stared at her for a moment.
Then realization slowly sank in.
Victoria had managed to build herself a reputation in less than twenty-four hours here.
The nurses. The receptionist.
They had all been talking about her.
“Thank you,” Declan nodded and headed in the direction the nurse had pointed.
He could already feel a migraine building.
When he reached Ward Five, he reached for the doorknob but hesitated.
He was about to push the door open when he heard a familiar voice from inside the room.
A voice that didn’t belong to Victoria.
“And what do you think would happen if he finds out?” the voice asked.
Declan froze.
He knew that voice. He could recognise it anywhere.
Daniel Windsor. His father’s younger brother. His uncle.
What was he doing here?
“Well, we can’t let him find out,” Victoria replied firmly.
“There were security footages in the house. I learnt from Bene that you appeared in one of them,” Daniel’s hushed voice followed, edged with anger.
“What the hell were you doing at Elysia’s door in the middle of the night?”
Before Victoria could answer, footsteps echoed from the corridor outside.
Declan watched as his uncle, who had been slightly bent over Victoria’s bed, straightened immediately.
The footsteps belonged to Mrs. Whitmore, carrying two paper bags of food.
Declan turned sharply and pressed a finger to his lips, before she could announce him.
He took both paper bags from her, and Mrs. Whitmore opened the door for him without a word, understanding instantly.
“Ah, Kyris… son, you’re finally here.” His uncle smiled.
Declan saw it immediately—it didn’t reach his eyes.
Daniel stepped closer and gave him a brief pat on the shoulder as Declan placed the food on the side table.
Victoria sat on the bed, her hair slightly dishevelled—like she had spent the last hour fighting something invisible. Or throwing it.
“What are you doing here?” Declan asked.
It sounded light. It wasn’t. And they both knew it.
Daniel didn’t answer immediately.
“I called him here,” Victoria said.
Declan raised a brow, then turned to look at his uncle.
“Why? I didn’t know you two were that close.”
- Writer
