~LAYLA~
I jumped about a foot in the air, clutching my robe tightly around myself.
The room wasn’t empty.
Standing around the kitchen island was the Duke, who was in a wheelchair but looked lively, Pennyworth holding a tray of mimosas with his usual dignified posture, Helena practically bouncing with excitent while holding a stack of colorful wrapped presents, Tye wearing a party hat that looked absolutely silly on his serious face, and even Sarah, my assistant from the Eclipse Store, smiling warmly at .
But it wasn’t a party.
There were no balloons floating around. No tacky banners screaming "Happy Birthday" in glitter. Just a beautiful spread of my favourite pastries, fresh flowers arranged in crystal vases, and a small, elegant chocolate cake sitting in the centre of the island with white frosting.
I looked at Axel, my mouth hanging open. "You said no party!"
"I said no fuss," Axel corrected smoothly, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder. His voice was warm against my ear. "This isn’t a fuss. This is family."
"Happy Birthday, Layla!" Helena cheered, rushing over to hug so enthusiastically she nearly knocked over. "I tried to get Tye to wear a sash that said ’Birthday Security’, but he threatened to hack my Instagram and post all my embarrassing middle school photos."
"I still might," Tye muttered darkly, adjusting his party hat with obvious discomfort.
"Don’t you dare," Helena warned, pointing at him.
"Grandfather," I said, walking over to him and kneeling beside the wheelchair. "You should be resting. You’re supposed to be recovering."
"I can rest when I’m dead," the Duke scoffed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Which, apparently, I already am according to the news. Besides, I wasn’t going to miss my granddaughter’s birthday. Arthur made scones."
"Fresh out of the oven, Your Grace," Pennyworth said with perfect butler formality, offering a mimosa in a crystal flute. "With clotted cream and strawberry preserves, just as you prefer."
I took the glass, my hands trembling slightly as I looked around the room at the smiling faces. My family. Not by blood, well, except for the Duke, but by choice. The people who had fought for , bled for , protected , and apparently lied for .
I looked back at Axel. He was watching with a soft, guarded expression, clearly waiting to see if I was upset or grateful.
"You lied," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes.
"I improvised," he said with a small, hesitant smile.
I walked back to him and kissed him, pouring everything I felt into it: gratitude, love, relief, ignoring the wolf whistles and cheers from everyone in the room.
"Best lie ever," I murmured against his lips.
"Hey! Save so sugar for the rest of us," a teasing voice called out from behind, making us all turn toward the entrance.
I pulled away from Axel, blushing slightly, to see two teenagers grinning at like they’d just won the lottery.
"Ryan? Jason?" I gasped in surprise.
Helena’s younger brothers stepped forward with matching grins. I hadn’t seen them in months, not since before the whole ss with the Huntingtons began. They had both grown at least an inch each, shooting up like weeds.
"Happy birthday, ma’am!" Ryan, the older of the two at sixteen, said, giving a clumsy but enthusiastic hug that lifted slightly off the ground. "Helena said if we didn’t co, she’d change the Netflix password and cancel our Spotify Premium. But honestly, we mostly ca for the food."
"And to see the penthouse," Jason added eagerly as he looked around at the expensive furnishings and floor-to-ceiling windows. "This place is sick. Like, billionaire sick."
"It is pretty nice," I laughed, hugging Jason tightly.
"I told you," Axel murmured in my ear, his hand resting protectively on the small of my back. "Family."
"Alright, alright, enough gushing," the Duke’s voice cut through the chatter. He beckoned over with a wave of his thin hand. "Co here, child. Let an old man get a proper look at you on your birthday."
I walked over to the wheelchair, smoothing my silk robe self-consciously.
"You look like your mother," he said softly, his voice catching slightly with emotion. "She hated birthdays too. Always said they were too much fuss and attention."
He reached into the pocket of his robe with a trembling hand and pulled out a small, velvet pouch. It was clearly old, the fabric worn and faded in places from years of handling.
"I don’t have access to the vaults right now; Isabelle has her claws sunk deep into the family accounts, and I am... well, technically dead according to all legal records. I cannot give you the tiaras or the estates that you deserve as a Huntington. Not yet."
"I don’t need estates, Grandfather," I said firmly, kneeling beside his chair and taking his free hand. "I have you. That’s more than enough."
"Hush," he scolded gently, squeezing my fingers. "You are a Duchess, whether the world knows it or not. You should have jewels befitting your station."
He opened the velvet pouch carefully and tipped the contents into my outstretched palm.
It was a locket, antique gold and oval-shaped, with a small, detailed engraving of a swallow on the front. It wasn’t flashy or covered in diamonds. Instead, it felt warm and surprisingly heavy in my hand.
"It belonged to your grandmother," Silas whispered. "She wore it every single day. When we fled the Manor, Arthur didn’t pack clothes or money or anything practical. He went straight to my nightstand and took this locket. He stitched it into the lining of his coat to keep it safe."
I looked up at Pennyworth, who was standing nearby like the perfect butler. He gave a small, dignified nod of acknowledgement.
"It opens," the Duke said quietly.
I pried the locket open with my thumbnail. Inside was a tiny, sepia-toned photograph of a young Silas, probably in his twenties, standing beside a laughing woman who looked almost like .
"She would have loved you, Layla," Silas said, his voice breaking with emotion. "She would have been so incredibly proud of the strong, brave woman you beca without us. Without any help from this family."
Tears spilled over my lashes and ran down my cheeks. I closed my hand around the locket, holding it against my heart. "Thank you. It’s the best gift I’ve ever received."
"Better than the pizza oven Axel bought you last month?" Tye joked, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy mood in the room.
"Much better," I laughed through my tears, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.
"Cake ti!" Helena announced, clapping her hands together. "Come on, birthday girl. You have to blow out the candle and make a wish."
Axel helped stand and guided to the kitchen island. Tye produced a lighter and ceremoniously lit the single gold candle in the centre of the elegant chocolate cake.
"Make a wish," Axel whispered close to my ear.
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