Chapter 42 CHAPTER 42
Cracks in the Empire
“Finally,” Chloe whispered to herself, the gleam in her eyes matching the sparkle of the diamond necklace she had clasped hastily around her throat. She stood before her mirror, lips stretched into a triumphant smile, painting a fresh coat of crimson lipstick across her mouth.
Finally, her patience, her endless tears, her humiliation, her forced silence was paying off.
The Langfords had turned against the very children they once claimed as heirs. The fortress that had felt untouchable was crumbling from within, and Chloe, ever the opportunist, was ready to dance in its ruins.
She hummed under her breath, slipping into her heels, recalling the way Lady Bianca’s voice had cracked when she spat the truth: They are not mine. Marcus’s cold agreement still echoed like a death sentence.
If Bianca and Marcus rejected those children, if the Langfords erased them from their lineage, what future would they have? No name. No inheritance. No shield of wealth. They would be nothing. And Chloe intended to be the one to step back into the fold, her arms open, her smile deceptively sweet, waiting for Ares when he finally realized the children were dead weight.
“Justice,” she told her reflection, smirking. “Justice for Chloe.”
She twirled once, delighting in her own shadow, her laughter spilling out into the grand corridor. The staff glanced at her uneasily, but Chloe ignored them. For the first time in years, she felt untouchable.
Meanwhile, across the estate, the atmosphere was nothing short of suffocating.
Ares stalked down the marble hallway, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were bone white. He had thought telling the truth would free him, that ripping off the bandage of lies would at least stop the poison from festering. Instead, it had unleashed a new venom — sharper, crueler, aimed not at him but at his children.
The look on his mother’s face replayed in his mind, searing into his memory: rage, disgust, betrayal. She hadn’t seen them as children anymore. She had seen them as stains.
He shoved open the lounge doors, his movements unsteady for once. There was only one person he trusted now, one man who had never judged him, who had stood beside him through business wars, personal scandals, and betrayals.
Julian.
Julian was already there, sprawled across the leather sofa with a glass of scotch in his hand, his eyes studying the amber liquid as though it held answers to questions no one dared ask.
“Ares,” Julian said simply, lifting his gaze as his friend entered. He didn’t need to ask. The storm on Ares’s face spoke volumes.
Ares closed the door behind him and pressed his palms against it, leaning as if the weight of his life had doubled. “They don’t want them, Julian. They said it straight to my face. My mother she said she cannot look at them again. That she won’t raise someone else’s blood under her roof.”
Julian sat upright, his brow furrowing. “And your father?”
Ares’s jaw tightened. “He agreed. Cold. Final. They both… they both cast them aside like they were nothing. Like they’re not flesh, not blood, not even children.”
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint tick of the grandfather clock in the corner.
Julian set his glass down and stood, crossing to Ares. He placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “And what about you? What did you say?”
Ares’s throat burned. “What could I say? I defended them. I told her they’re mine, that they’re innocent. But she looked at me like I had cursed the family.” He pulled away, pacing like a caged lion. “Julian, I can handle their hate. I can handle their rejection. But the children…” His voice cracked, raw. “What happens when they hear it? When Beauty looks into her grandmother’s face and realizes she’s no longer loved? When Kamal asks why his grandfather doesn’t want him anymore? What do I tell them?”
Julian exhaled, slow and measured. His eyes were thoughtful, his words deliberate. “Then that is what you must fight for. Not Bianca’s approval. Not Marcus’s legacy. Not even the Langford name. You must fight to protect those children from the poison that’s already spilling into this house.”
Ares stilled.
Julian stepped closer, his voice firm. “The first rule of survival, Ares, is protecting the vulnerable. And right now, those kids are more vulnerable than they’ve ever been. They don’t need to hear hate. They don’t need to feel rejection. They don’t need whispers behind their backs. They need one thing, you.”
Ares’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his fists loosening slightly.
Julian continued, unwavering. “Take them away from this. Away from the venom, away from Bianca’s rage, away from Marcus’s cold eyes. Don’t let them stay where they’re treated like burdens. Surround them with love, with strength, with people who see them as children, not liabilities.”
“But if I leave the estate…”
“You won’t be leaving,” Julian cut in. “You’ll be protecting. This place may have walls of marble and guards with guns, but it’s rotten from within. A fortress means nothing if the attack comes from inside. And right now, Chloe, Bianca and Marcus are the danger. You can’t let them near those children until you know they’re safe.”
Ares sank into a chair, his head in his hands. “I thought telling the truth would heal this family. Instead, I’ve destroyed it.”
Julian crouched in front of him, forcing him to lift his gaze. “No, brother. You didn’t destroy it. The truth simply revealed what was already broken. Bianca and Marcus worship bloodlines more than love. That’s their weakness, not yours. You’ve given those kids more than their so-called father ever did. You’ve been the one by their side. You’re the only parent they’ve ever known. That matters more than a drop of DNA.”
Ares swallowed hard, staring at Julian as if the words were lifelines.
Julian pressed on. “You want my advice? Shield them. Build a wall so strong around them that no word, no whisper, no sneer can touch them. Let them grow in love, not shame. If you must, cut ties with anyone who dares call them less. Even if it’s your own parents.”
The words struck deep, heavier than any brandy, sharper than any rebuke.
Ares closed his eyes, and for the first time that day, his breathing steadied. He saw Pretty’s fragile body being pulled from the water, Beauty’s wide-eyed questions, Kamal and Jamal’s laughter. His children. His family.
He opened his eyes, his jaw set, the fire returning. “You’re right.”
Julian smiled faintly. “Of course I am.”
“I won’t let them hear it. I won’t let them feel unloved. I’ll protect them, Julian. Even if it means turning my back on everything else. The Langford empire. If I must burn it all to protect them, then I’ll light the match myself.”
Julian’s grin widened. He clapped Ares on the shoulder. “That’s the Ares I know. Fierce. Unbreakable. A wolf guarding his cubs.”
Ares rose to his full height, shoulders squared, his eyes burning with renewed determination. “Then it’s decided. The Langford legacy is no longer my concern. My children are.”
As the words settled between them, the weight in the room shifted. The walls no longer seemed to close in. The empire may have been cracking, but Ares had chosen where his loyalty lay.
Julian picked up his glass again, lifting it in a silent toast. “To the only legacy that matters.”
Ares reached for his own, their glasses clinking softly. “To my children.”
But far across the estate, Chloe laughed into her mirror once more, convinced that her victory was inevitable.