The next morning,
The Lancaster mansion stood like a statent of glass and marble, as if declaring it had always been there and would always remain.
Inside, the east breakfast room was pristine. Sunlight spilled across the polished floor, catching the silverware and tall vases of fresh hydrangeas. The scent of brewed coffee, citrus, and warm bread lingered like an offering.
Isabella was already at the table. She had arranged everything herself that morning, sliced fruit in crystal bowls, olets folded to perfection, a newspaper folded beside Edward’s seat, and fresh croissants layered in a basket.
But the mont Alaric walked in, she went quiet. She wasn’t cold, but didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t used to showing emotions around her son. Not the soft ones, at least.
"Ric... I was waiting for you," Edward greeted, his voice warm as he folded his reading glasses and set aside his business newspaper.
Alaric took the seat to the left of Edward, opposite Isabella.
"You’ve been in every paper since Laurent’s event. I’ve never had this many people call just to ask for favors," Edward chuckled softly. "Vantex, NexGuard, everyone wants in. So even had the nerve to send portfolio links." He laughed.
Edward was visibly happy, not because of Alaric’s growing business or fa, but simply because Alaric was visiting them for breakfast on his own.
Isabella stole glances at her son as she quietly began serving her husband and herself. When Alaric had called Edward last night, though she was excited, fear lingered in the back of her mind.
The quiet stretched for so ti. Edward internally sighed. If he had ever seen Alaric speaking with soone for a long ti, it was with Aveline at the Laurent exhibit and auction.
For the rest of the events, Alaric remained quiet. As a kid or grown-up, he chose quietness, especially with family mbers.
Knowing Isabella wouldn’t be able to initiate the conversation, Edward continued, ntioning nas Alaric didn’t care to follow, investors, strategic partners, ministers pretending to be ntors. He kept going until the plates were half-finished.
When breakfast neared its end, Edward set his coffee cup down. "But you didn’t co here just for breakfast, did you?" he asked, his gaze steady. "Speak what’s in your heart, Ric."
Alaric rested his hands on the table, then said, "You once told the press your world wasn’t built to accommodate..." He paused, his gaze flickering toward Isabella without eting her eyes. He refused to call her mother. "Your second marriage."
Isabella’s grip on her cup tightened. Her heart began hamring against her chest, fear crawling up her spine.
Edward recalled the interview and nodded in response.
"Then you made changes in your world before you got married." Alaric looked at neither of them when he said it, but his voice held weight.
"Maybe you were right," He continued. "And if I want soone in my world, I need to make changes before anything bothers her. I can rebuild what needs to be rebuilt. Just so she feels safe."
Isabella’s posture shifted slightly. Her expression was unreadable, but her fingers had gone pale around the handle of her cup.
’Did Aveline tell Alaric about what I said?’
’Is Alaric here to do sothing worse than a restraining order?’ Isabella held her breath, bracing for retribution.
Alaric went on, "Instead of filing a restraining order, I probably should have had this conversation."
A small silence followed. Isabella’s eyes were wide with disbelief. She couldn’t process it. Edward smiled when Alaric didn’t take the words back.
Alaric added before she could misunderstand his words. "But I still don’t trust her. Even if she behaves, promises not to interfere, I won’t believe it."
The air went quiet. Isabella bit her lip and glanced at Edward.
Broken trust takes years to rebuild. Sotis it never does.
Edward didn’t pressure Alaric, just as he hadn’t asked him not to file the restraining order. He gently patted Isabella’s hand to ease her.
Alaric hadn’t ntioned Aveline. Not once. But they both knew who he was talking about. They nodded at Alaric in understanding.
Isabella was the first to respond. "This will be her ho too," she said quietly.
She didn’t ask for details. Didn’t push. That in itself was rare.
Edward continued, "Whoever you choose to be with, it’s your choice. We’ll welco her wholeheartedly."
Alaric gave a brief nod. Not out of gratitude for their understanding, it was just acknowledgnt. He hadn’t expected the words, least of all from Isabella.
Once breakfast was over, no one said Aveline’s na, though they wanted to ask Alaric about her. Not out of avoidance, but respect.
Edward only said, "Drop by more often."
Just then, footsteps neared the doorway. Nicholas walked in, fresh from a run, sweat clinging to his shirt, a towel tossed around his neck. He paused at the sight of them sitting together like a family.
His jaw clenched, his chest tightened, making him struggle to breathe. He preferred the version of Alaric that stord out or ignored everyone. Not whatever he was witnessing.
"Ric," he said with forced cheer, "long ti."
Before Alaric could respond, Edward spoke without looking up, glancing at his watch. "You’ll be late for your eting, Nick. Go, now."
The dismissal was clean.
Nicholas gritted his teeth but left.
....
Upstairs in his room, he threw the towel aside, pulled out his phone, and dialed.
The mont Leo Silver answered, Nicholas snapped, "Why the fuck is it taking so long to steal a damn hard drive?"
There was a pause before Leo spoke. "Err... Mr. Lancaster, Damien, is behind bars. He hasn’t processed the paynt."
"I’m sending it now," Nicholas growled. "I want that second product out before he even plans his next launch."
He ended the call, his chest heaving with rage. Every person around him was singing praises for Alaric’s success. It was already hard enough, how could he bear Alaric getting close to his parents?
He wanted Alaric’s ruin. Scandals, allegations sared across his face. Until then, he wouldn’t be at peace.
His breath was still shallow, his palm still clenched from the call, when a slender hand gripped his arm and spun him around.
His gaze locked onto her. Eyes like polished onyx, sharp and unreadable. But her face? The picture of calm.
Seraphina Astor, daughter of the sitting President, wife of Nicholas Lancaster. The woman who wore power like perfu.
His fury vanished in an instant. His expression, sharp a second ago, turned terrifyingly gentle. "Honey... you’re ho?"
She didn’t respond to his words. "Nicholas." Her voice was soft, curious, far too composed for his temper. "What were you talking about just now?"
Nicholas lied. "Just a project, Sera."
Sera didn’t respond. She just stared. A death stare, to be precise.
He hated when she did that. The way she didn’t argue or accuse, just waited, silent and surgical, until he cracked open like a nut under pressure.
He sighed. "It’s Alaric."
Her brow arched subtly. "What about him?"
"He’s... becoming a goddamn national monunt." The bitterness in his voice was impossible to miss. "You should’ve heard Dad in the etings. Praising him like he’s so golden boy. And Mom was too silent, but glowing like a candlelit portrait. Even Sister Giselle is treating him like he’s her brother."
Nicholas stepped back, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "I hate how easy he makes it look. I don’t want him to get a damn cent from Lancaster, and I want his company to drown."
He paused, gritting his teeth. "And I will. His second product? He hasn’t even announced it yet. But once Leo gets the drive, I’ll launch it under a shadow company. Sa specifications. Sa pitch. I’ll bleed him before he even gets to market."
When he finished, the room stilled. Sera’s eyes were on him, unflinching at his hatred.
There was just silence. The kind of silence that made his ribs tighten.
’Did he speak too much?’ He wondered.
Finally, she said, "I’ll help you." After all, she had married him for power.
What would she do if the power if halved?
He looked at her, stunned. "What!?"
Had his ears deceived him? He couldn’t believe it.
Sera stepped closer, her long black robe flowing behind her like liquid velvet. Her dark hair swept over one shoulder, her bare face effortlessly elegant.
"I’ll help you." Her voice didn’t waver. "If Alaric rises, your influence weakens at Lancaster Global, and then you beco his shadow."
Nicholas swallowed hard. He never quite knew what she was thinking. And maybe that’s what scared him.
She continued, her voice smooth as silk. "You want Dad and Mom’s full support? You want the shares and control? I’ll get it for you. Slowly. From the inside." Each word was asured.
Her tone lowered to near a whisper. "Mom is insecure. She wants control over the family, and I’ll offer her a mirror where she sees it."
Nicholas could barely believe it. "What about Alaric?" he asked cautiously, almost afraid to break the mont.
She smiled faintly. "He’ll get what’s owed to him from the De Contis. That’s where his future is. Not here."
Then she tilted her head, slipping her manicured finger under his chin. "And you, my dear husband... You deserve everything."
Nicholas’s breath hitched. Her complints always landed like honey-glazed daggers. They were sweet, but also dangerous.
He grinned, that wild glint returning to his eyes. "And you’ll support till the end?"
She leaned in closer. "Of course, my dear." She gently pecked on his lips.
As she walked out of the room, her back straight and unyielding, Nicholas exhaled, dizzy with thrill.
Then he snickered, "Rise high, Alaric. I’ll rip the ground out from under you."
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