Chapter 15
Elara's pov
The first thing I felt when I woke up was the weight.
It wasn't a heavy weight, but it was solid. Constant. I realized with a start that the bed wasn't empty.
Sebastian hadn't left. He was still lying there, just inches away from me. I stayed perfectly still, my heart hammering against my ribs so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
I turned my head just a fraction of an inch.
He was still asleep. His face was turned toward me, his dark lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. Without the cold, hard mask he wore during the day, he looked… younger. Almost vulnerable. It was hard to believe this was the same man who had terrified my entire family. My hand drifted toward him, wanting to brush a stray hair away from his forehead, but I caught myself.
He looks so handsome and calm when he sleeps. Why can't he always be like this. I thought to myself
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
The air in the room instantly turned thick. It was like someone had sucked all the oxygen out. He didn't move, but his gaze was intense, tracing every inch of my face as if he were trying to remember why he had let his guard down.
Then, the ice returned. He became grumpy again.
He sat up abruptly, his jaw tight. He looked embarrassed no, he looked angry that he had actually listened to me and stayed. He didn't say "Good morning." He didn't even look at me again. He just got out of bed and walked into the dressing room without a word.
During breakfast, the silence was even worse. He sat across from me, his coffee untouched, while his eyes followed my every move. Every time I picked up a fork or shifted in my chair, his gaze was there. It wasn't the look of a husband; it was the look of a man who was now obsessed with the weight of the trust I had placed in him last night. It was like I had given him a burden he never wanted to carry.
"I have to leave," he said, his voice cold and sharp. "Business."
I felt a strange, sharp pit in my stomach. I knew what "business" meant for him. It meant blood. It meant danger. "Will you be back for dinner?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He didn't answer. He just stood up and walked out, his coat billowing behind him like a dark cloud.
I knew he is gonna fight with someone or maybe kill someone. But a strange fear creeped out as I am afraid if he would get hurt.
I couldn't just sit around and wait for him to come home in a casket. I needed to do something. I decided to focus on the house specifically, the office where we had that moment last night. I started organizing the shelves, trying to make the cold room feel a little more like a home.
That's when I found it.
Tucked behind a row of old law books was a small, silver locket. It was tarnished nearly black, but when I rubbed it, the initials *E.D.* appeared. Evelyn Devereux. His mother.
I spent the afternoon cleaning it until it shone like new. I placed it right in the center of his desk, next to his glass of bourbon. It was a small gesture, but it felt like I was reclaiming a piece of the heart this house had tried to bury.
It was late when the front door finally slammed shut.
I walked into the hall and stopped. Sebastian was there, looking exhausted. There was a smear of blood on his white cuff, and his eyes were wild, like he hadn't fully stepped out of the violence he'd just come from.
He marched into his office, and I followed him silently. He stopped dead when he saw the desk.
He stared at the locket for a long, agonizing minute. His breathing became ragged, his shoulders shaking slightly. I thought he was going to scream at me for touching it. I thought he was going to throw me out.
Instead, he turned around and looked at me. For the first time, the "no touching" rule felt like it was about to snap. He took a step toward me, his hand reaching out, his fingers trembling as they hovered just an inch from my cheek. He looked terrified not of his enemies, but of the fact that I was turning his fortress into a home.
"Why?" he whispered, his voice broken.
"Why are you doing this, Elara?"
"Because you deserve a home, Sebastian," I said softly.
He closed his eyes, his forehead almost touching mine. The heat between us was unbearable. He didn't touch me, but the restraint was so thin I could feel it breaking.