Chapter 60: Chapter Fifty Nine

Athena

I followed Eros down the hallway, my steps unhurried, fingers trailing lightly along the wall as we passed the staircase and turned the corner toward my room. The house felt colder than I remembered—not in temperature, but in spirit. Distant. Lifeless. As if it had never truly been meant to feel like home.

My temporary room was the same one I’d stayed in before—neutral tones, pristine surfaces, not a single trace of warmth. I paused at the doorway, bag still slung over my shoulder, reluctant to step inside.

Eros lingered behind me. “You okay?”

I turned halfway, offering a faint nod. “Yeah… I just forgot how much this place echoes.”

He stepped in, moving past me to place my second bag on the armchair near the window. “It’s only for a while.”

“Right,” I echoed, but my voice cracked, betraying the unease tightening in my chest. My arms folded across my body like I needed something to hold myself together. “I didn’t expect to feel this… unsettled.”

“You’re not alone,” he said softly, leaning against the wall. “You don’t have to feel like you’re floating through this place unnoticed.”

I exhaled shakily. “It’s not just the house, Eros. It’s everything. One minute, I had some kind of rhythm… and now it’s like the ground is shifting under my feet. I didn’t even get a choice—they just took the room and left me with nowhere to land.”

He stepped closer. “You landed with me.”

My gaze met his. “But for how long?”

“As long as you need,” he said without hesitation. “I meant it, Athena.”

I looked down, my voice barely above a whisper. “I hate feeling like a burden.”

“You’re not.”

“I feel like one,” I murmured, the words laced with insistence. “With Beatrix… with this house… even with you.”

He reached out gently, his hand resting on my arm. “You’ve never been a burden to me. Not once.”

I opened my mouth like I wanted to say something else, but the words caught. Instead, I just looked at him—really looked—feeling the weight of his words sink into me.

“Why do you keep showing up for me?” I asked, eyes searching his face.

He hesitated, then spoke quietly. “Because I care about you.”

My breath caught. Of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them.

“I care more than I probably should,” he added, voice low. “And I don’t know when it started… maybe the first time you looked at me like I wasn’t just another name or title. You saw me, Athena. And I see you.”

The silence stretched between us—thick, charged, intimate.

I stepped closer, just inches separating us now. “You make me feel… safe. Like I’m not just surviving.”

His gaze flicked briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes. His voice dropped lower. “You deserve more than just survival.”

“I don’t know how to ask for more,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I don’t even know if I’m allowed to want it.”

“You are,” he said gently, brushing a stray strand of hair from my cheek. “And I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it.”

My breath hitched at his touch, and for a moment, I leaned into him like his presence alone could keep me steady.

But then a knock echoed from the hallway—firm and distant, snapping us back to reality. A reminder that the world still existed beyond this fragile, suspended moment.

We both stepped back, the spell broken, though something between us had undeniably shifted.

“I should unpack,” I said quietly.

Eros nodded, his voice just as soft. “I’ll be... outside if you need anything.”

As he walked away, I sank onto the edge of the bed, fingers absently brushing the spot where his hand had touched my cheek. Eros Belmonte cared about someone like me. I had to resist the absurd urge to grin like an idiot.

And for the first time in a long while… I didn’t feel so alone. I found myself looking forward to the rest of the school year. Somehow, Eros had helped me reclaim the part of myself everyone else had tried to erase. Even if James showed up today, I knew I could face him—this time, without fear.

I unpacked slowly, methodically—folding clothes into drawers, lining up toiletries by the sink, placing my books along the windowsill. But no matter how I tried to make the room feel like mine, it still felt cold. Foreign. Like I was just passing through a life that didn’t quite belong to me.

I sat back down on the bed, eyes drifting to the view outside the window—perfectly trimmed gardens sprawling below. I remembered sitting here two years ago, watching Beatrix host her polished garden parties while I was told to stay upstairs, unseen and forgotten.

A lump formed in my throat.

I thought I’d moved past all of that. I thought I’d grown. But being here again felt like rewinding everything, like all the progress I’d made was slipping through my fingers.

My gaze fell on a photo frame I’d packed without thinking—a candid shot Eros had taken of me on the beach last week, laughing with wind-tossed hair and sunlight in my eyes. I picked it up, fingers brushing the frame’s edge.

Now that I was back, would I be forced to shrink again into the role of the unwanted daughter? Silenced, sidelined… invisible?

Or would this time be different?

A soft knock broke the silence—gentler this time.

I rose and opened the door.

Eros stood on the other side, a steaming cup of tea in his hand. “Chamomile,” he said, holding it out to me. “I figured you could use something warm.”

My smile was faint but sincere. “Thank you.”

He lingered in the doorway for a moment before stepping inside. “I know being back here isn’t easy.”

I glanced down at the tea, fingers curling around the warmth of the cup. “It feels like I’ve slipped backward. Like I’ve taken ten steps back.”

“You haven’t,” he said quietly. “You’re just passing through. This place doesn’t get to rewrite who you are.”

I lifted my gaze to him, eyes shimmering. “It used to.”

“Not anymore,” he replied with quiet conviction. “Not while I’m here. Beatrix knows better now than to treat you the way she once did.”

Our eyes locked for a moment—too long to be casual, too brief to be enough—before he turned to leave.

I watched him go, the question pressing at the edge of my tongue: what exactly had he said to Beatrix? Whatever it was, it must’ve been serious enough to make her agree to let me come back. Did he threaten her? 

Knowing Eros… he absolutely could have. He wasn’t just persuasive—he was intimidating when he wanted to be. Terrifying, even.

And yet, here he was—bringing me tea.

******

Eros

As I walked away, I knew there was one more thing I needed to do.

I found Beatrix in the conservatory, meticulously trimming a delicate white orchid with her pristine shears. She glanced up at my approach, her lips curving into that familiar, practiced, tight-lipped smile.

“Everything settled?” she asked coolly.

“No,” I replied flatly.

Her brow lifted, sharp and calculating. “Something wrong?”

“Yes. The way you treat Athena.”

Her smile faltered, just slightly. “I’ve given her a roof over her head. That’s more than most would.”

“She’s not some stray you’re doing a favor for,” I snapped. “She’s a human being—a child you raised, whether you liked it or not.”

Beatrix straightened, irritation flickering in her eyes. “You forget yourself, Eros. This is my home.”

“And she’s not a threat to it,” I said, voice firm. “She’s not here to upend your precious world. She’s just trying to survive. Or have you forgotten? You took her from the orphanage not out of kindness, but to polish your public image. She didn’t ask you for anything—you used her.”

Beatrix turned back to the orchid, snipping at a perfect petal. “She’s always been too emotional. Too fragile.” she stated coldly.

“No,” I said, stepping closer, tone steel-edged. “She’s strong—stronger than you ever gave her credit for. And if she’s emotional, it’s because she’s spent years being treated like a ghost in the only place she once called home.”

Beatrix didn’t respond, but her jaw tightened.

“I won’t let you push her around anymore,” I said, voice low and unwavering. “If she stays here, she stays with dignity. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to do things you won’t like.”

The silence between us crackled with unspoken hostility.

I turned to leave but paused at the doorway, casting one final look over my shoulder. “She’s not a burden, Beatrix. She’s the best damn thing that ever walked through these halls. The tragedy is you never had the eyes to see it.”

And then I walked out, leaving her frozen among her orchids—lips pressed into a thin line, eyes unreadable. But I knew exactly what she was thinking.

She was already plotting how to get rid of me. I had no doubt.

I could’ve taken Athena somewhere else, but I didn’t want that. I wanted her back in the home that should’ve always been hers. So I used the one thing Beatrix valued more than control—her reputation. 

I leveraged her husband’s money laundering scandal, and sealed the deal by exposing Alfred’s secrets. With Alfred gone, Athena was finally safe. Safe where she belonged.

And maybe, just maybe, this house would finally start to feel like hers again.