CHASING HIS HEIRESS EX-WIFE

Chapter Ten:

"Show your face, Richard."

My voice cuts through the dark before I can stop it. It comes out sharp and steady, which surprises me because my heart is slamming so hard I can feel it in my throat.

A soft laugh answers me from somewhere ahead.

"There she is," Richard Thornton says. "The little girl finally learned how to speak back."

I cannot see him. That makes everything worse. The dark feels thick and close. Victor is still in the wheelchair beside me. Nathaniel stands near the dead car, too quiet, which means he is thinking fast. Julian moves without a word and places himself half a step in front of me.

The gesture lands harder than I want it to.

"Do not hide behind the dark," Julian says. His voice is low and rough. "If you want me, come and take me yourself."

There is a pause. Then another slow clap.

"You still sound brave in front of women," Richard says. "That is almost sweet."

Something ugly twists in my stomach. I know that tone. It is the tone of a man who has spent years making other people feel small. I lived with a colder version of it in Julian's house. Maybe that is why my fear does not fully win. I know this kind of cruelty. I know how it moves.

A dim red light flickers on above a far wall. It does not brighten the whole floor, but it gives me enough.

Richard steps forward.

He is older than Julian, broader, and heavier, but his eyes are the same. Dark. Watchful. The kind that do not soften, even when they smile. Two men stand behind him. Aunt Mary is not there.

My chest tightens anyway.

"Where is she?" I ask at once.

Richard looks at me like I am mildly interesting. "Still giving orders. Still asking the wrong questions." "Where is Mary?" I repeat. "Alive," he says. "Useful. Difficult. Much like you."

Julian takes another step forward. "You do not talk to her."

Richard turns to him slowly. The look on his face is almost bored, but I catch it. Disgust. Deep and old.

"You are in no place to tell me what to do," Richard says. "You had one simple job. Keep her close. Keep her quiet. Instead, you divorced her and handed her back to Montague."

The world seems to stop for one long second.

I look at Julian.

He does not turn toward me right away. His whole body goes still. It is not the stillness of calm. It is the stillness of someone who sees a blade coming and knows it will hit.

"Julian," I say, and my own voice sounds thin now. "What does he mean?"

Nathaniel shifts beside me. I feel his attention cut sharply toward Julian, too. No one moves. No one breathes.

Richard smiles, and this time it reaches his eyes in the worst way. "Oh, he never told you?" he says lightly. "That marriage was never a love story. It was business. I pushed it. Mary agreed. You were safer under my roof than anywhere near the Montague name."

The words do not strike all at once. They sink in slowly, then all together. My wedding dress. I'm waiting. Every night, I told myself maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe tomorrow my husband would look at me and see a woman, not a burden.

My aunt helped place me there.

And Richard built the cage.

I force myself to keep looking at Julian. He finally meets my eyes. There is shame there. Real shame. It is the first thing I see before anything else. "I knew the marriage was arranged," he says. His voice is low. Careful. "I did not know why. I swear to you, Elara, I did not know who you were."

A broken laugh almost leaves me, but I swallow it. Of course, it was arranged. Of course there was a deal. Part of me always knew I had loved him alone.

But this is worse. "Were you going to tell me?" I ask.

Julian's face tightens. He does not answer fast enough.

That is answer enough.

I look away before he can see what that silence does to me.

Nathaniel steps closer to my side. He does not touch me. He does not crowd me. He just stands there, solid and steady, and somehow that makes the air easier to breathe.

Richard notices. His mouth curls. "So this is the new one," he says. "The loyal friend. The safe man. I almost prefer Julian. At least that one knows how to disappoint properly."

Nathaniel's voice is flat when he answers. "You should worry less about me and more about the fact that your son is not on your side tonight."

Richard does not even look at him. "My son has never been on anyone's side. Least of all his own."

Julian's hands curl into fists. The old hurt in his face shifts into something hotter. For a second, I see the boy he must have been. Raised under this man. Trained to be hard. Taught that love is weakness and silence is power.

The sight catches me off guard, and I hate that it does.

Richard turns back to me. "Give me the key, Elara. Give me the files, and your grandfather leaves this garage alive. Refuse, and by morning, your family loses everything." "You already stole enough," I say. "I built half of what your grandfather owns," Richard says. "He just learned to write his name bigger."

Victor lets out a tired breath behind me. "Still lying, Richard. Even now."

Richard's eyes flick to Victor. For the first time, the calm on his face cracks. Just a little.

"You should have stayed sick," he says.

Julian moves again. This time, he stands fully in front of me.

"No," he says.

One word. Quiet. Firm.

Richard looks almost amused. "You are choosing her over your own blood?"

Julian does not flinch. "You taught me blood means nothing. You made sure of that." Something in the dark air changes. Nathaniel feels it too. I can tell by the way his shoulders shift. Richard is no longer fully in control of this moment, and he knows it.

Then a soft sound comes from my phone.

A message.

I look down.

A live photo loads on the screen.

Camille is sitting in a church pew, crying. Aunt Mary stands behind her with one hand on her shoulder. On the seat beside Camille is a folded paper.

Under the photo is one line. Ask Julian what he signed before your wedding.

I lift my head slowly and stare at Julian. "What did you sign?"