Sunlight streamed over the estate’s wide veranda, creating long shadows on mosaic tiles. Celeste leaned against a marble pillar, heart hammering at the latest development: Soren might yet foreclose on her parents’ house if she was more defiant. She held a paper in one hand, a fold of bureaucracy in which one could find the official notice threatening to displace all the memories she held dear of the humble house she grew up in.
She remembered how her mother used to hum while pulling weeds in the tiny garden and how her father used to painstakingly oil the rusty front gate. Every inch of the house had the imprint of laughter and love. Now, the notion of losing it made her sick. With Soren holding the iron grip on the loan, he could obliterate that piece of her past with just one signature. The notion that he would descend so low just to retain his hold on her made her heart clench.
From within, muffled voices floated through the open door. Talia and Roman were getting together to strategize, looking further into Soren’s secretive business. Celeste had come to them earlier, but the news of her home being at risk had sent her out for air, needing a moment to try and steady the shaking that would not leave her bones.
Feeling movement behind her, she turned to find Caspian walking onto the veranda, tension straining his shoulders. He came over slowly, concern in his eyes. “I heard about the house,” he managed in a low voice. She forced a nod, repressing the need to collapse. Suddenly, he put aside their fraught history, reaching out to lay a comforting hand on her arm. “His presence brought a comforting feeling, but also a painful reminder of how entwined their fates had once been — and potentially still were.”
She shut her eyes, remembering Soren’s threats and the way every passing day had felt like a countdown toward disaster. “I want him to take it,” she whispered, her voice shaking with conviction. “He’s a cost to me already so much. That house is all I have left of my parents.” Caspian’s hand tightened around her in a silent vow of solidarity, though his brow was etched with uncertainty of his own.
A hush settled, interrupted by distant footfalls in the mansion. Celeste breathed in and made herself sit up. If Soren challenged her resolve, she would respond. Her parents’ legacy was not to be bartered with, and she would not allow it to be taken from her. What she had at stake had never seemed greater, and that motivated her not to shrink from such a direct confrontation.
Night fell like a shroud over the mansion’s halls, pierced only by the guttering glow of the wall sconces in the twilight. Celeste navigated the maze of corridors, hunting for solace. She found none. Instead, she almost bumped into Soren by the library’s arched doors. He emerged from the shadows, his sharpened suit melting away into the dark.
With eerie placidity, he stepped in front of her, face as grim as granite. “You’re tenacious,” he said, the volume of his voice low. She attempted to brush past, but he stepped in closer, his lips barely curling into a thin smile that never reached his calculating eyes. Her heart raced, dread churning in her stomach.
“I said I’m going to protect my home,” she gasped, battling a quaver in her voice. Soren’s eyes sharpened, the faint lines in his face deepening with the flicker of the lights. “Then listen to my terms,” he said softly, menace laced into every syllable. “Leave Caspian’s life by dawn, or I file the papers that foreclose on your precious property. No second chances.”
Her breath caught. She had steeled herself for threats of that sort, but to hear it come from his own mouth, so fluently and relaxedly delivered, was as if the floor had collapsed beneath her. The library’s muted majesty bore down on him, the shelves of books looming like voiceless witnesses to his final demand. She gathered whatever courage was left in her body, fists clenched by her sides.
“Why do you hate me so much?” she murmured, voice tight. He cocked his head, a hint of scorn flickering in his eyes. “Hate?” he replied with an ostentatious chuckle. “You’re just a pawn who won’t follow the rules. My empire, my rules. You either creep away quietly, or you watch memories you loved turn to dust.”
Rage and fear battled in her chest, every breath a struggle. Soren’s power games were now playing out on the modest porch where she used to spend her carefree days, and I could just see her flashing back to them. “You can’t break me?” she said in a whisper, but her voice quavered. His slight smile suggested the opposite. Then, with a withering nod, he strode past her, feet echoing in the quiet.
Her heart raced at the line now drawn. She was alone in the corridor, her shoulders shaking beneath the crushing load of his threat. If she turned her back on Caspian, she could save her parents’ home — how could she leave behind everything they had struggled to rebuild? Divided between responsibility for her past and fidelity to an unknown future, she fought to quell her galloping thoughts.
That night, Celeste stood at the wide window of her bedroom, looking down into the moonlit gardens. A gentle breeze lifted the drapes, but there was no comfort for her. Soren’s ultimatum echoed in her thoughts, each syllable leaving new scars on her resolve. He had given her until dawn to vanish from Caspian’s world — or risk losing her home forever.
She pressed a palm against the glass, thinking of the rickety old door of her childhood house and then how the door always squeaked whenever her mother got home from the store with groceries. That laughter reverberating in those halls seemed a distant thing to the grand, haunted silence of Hayes Manor. She wanted to fight, to stand her ground, but the fear of watching her parents’ legacy auctioned off enveloped her like a vice.
A hesitant knock sounded behind her. “Celeste?” Caspian’s voice was gentle, laced with concern. She swivelled, allowing him to step into the dim room. Even in the half-light she noticed the weariness stamped on his face, the bruise-like hollows under his eyes—the signs of sleeplessness. Their eyes met, shared loads heavy on their backs.
“Did he threaten you again?” he asked quietly. She swallowed, shaking so visibly that it was impossible for her to mask what was happening in her shoulders. “He wants me out of here by the morning,” she said, her voice bitter. There was a pause laden with unsaid regrets. She felt his turbulence—rage at his father’s cruelty, shame for failing to protect her, an undercurrent of fear that she would leave.
He stepped closer, a slight hitch in his breath. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself,” he started, looking into her eyes. “We can figure out how to preserve your home without losing everything else.” Her desperation mixed with the glimmer of hope he provided as she held his eyes. But the memory of Soren’s grim ultimatum loomed.
Her voice wavered. “And if there isn’t a way?” Caspian’s jaw tightened. Having once seen her forced exit, he understood her reluctance painfully well. “I won’t let him do this to you again,” he said, his tone sharpening with determination. But doubt festered in her heart. She remembered the threat of his empire crumbling, the board’s mistrust, and the rumours swirling. Could she make a little more chaos in his life for the sake of saving herself?
They stood inches from each other, the hush of midnight leaking against the walls. Torn between her loyalty to her parents’ memory and the fragile bond that existed between her and this complicated man, she battled to steady the storm churning inside. He put a tentative hand on her arm as if afraid she might disappear. Their gazes intertwined, and in that unvoiced moment, they questioned whether love alone could triumph over such shadows