chapter 105
Elena's POV:
His jaw tightened at my response, and I could see the frustration building behind those eyes that had once been blind to everything but Vivienne's lies.
The irony wasn't lost on me—here he sat, trying to reclaim something that had never truly existed, while the real victim of his misplaced loyalty lay in police custody for murder.
"You're being ridiculous, Lucas," I said, pushing back my chair with deliberate care.
"Whatever fantasy you've constructed in your mind about us, about what could have been—it's exactly that. A fantasy. And I won't let you use it to disturb my family."
Lucas opened his mouth to speak again, his eyes still burning with that desperate intensity, but Dad cut him off with a raised hand.
"That's enough, Lucas," Robert said firmly, his voice carrying an authority I rarely heard from him. "Everything has been explained clearly now. You understand Elena's feelings. There's no need to keep pursuing this."
I took that as my cue, carefully rising from my seat.
"If there's nothing else, I'll be heading back," I said quietly, avoiding Lucas's gaze as I turned to my father.
"Take care of yourself, sweetheart," Dad murmured, squeezing my hand gently. "And the little one."
I nodded, managing a small smile for him before turning to leave.
Behind me, I could feel Lucas's stare boring into my back, but I didn't look back.
---
As the city streets blurred past my window, I found myself thinking about the casual cruelty of what Lucas had just done.
He'd thrown away Vivienne—a woman who, despite her crimes, had shaped years of her life around their relationship—the moment he'd discovered the truth.
Now he was trying to transfer all those feelings onto me, as if love were something that could be reassigned like a business contract.
The thought made me shudder.
What kind of person could pivot so completely, so ruthlessly?
There was something frightening about a man who could switch his affections so readily, who could claim love while simultaneously destroying the person he'd supposedly cherished for years. The calculating coldness beneath his desperate declarations sent a chill down my spine.
The familiar sight of The Aurora's entrance came into view, and I felt my shoulders relax fractionally.
Home. Safety. Sebastian might be controlling and possessive, but at least his feelings—however overwhelming—were genuine and constant.
When I woke from my afternoon nap, Marcus was standing in the doorway with two packages in his hands, his expression carefully neutral as always.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Vane. These arrived while you were resting," he said. "They're from Mr. Ashton."
I sat up slowly. "From Lucas?"
"Yes, ma'am. He sent two packages—one addressed to Mr. Vane as thanks for assistance with the investigation about Henry, and one specifically for you."
His tone carried just a hint of disapproval, and I appreciated his loyalty. "I've placed them in the kitchen pending your review."
My stomach turned at the thought of Lucas sending anything to our home, but curiosity won out.
I found the packages on the kitchen counter—an expensive bottle of whiskey for Sebastian, and a small white box tied with ribbon for me.
Inside was an assortment of delicate petit fours from the French patisserie I'd loved during my university days.
Though my rational mind warned against it, I found myself reaching for one of the tiny cakes.
Pregnancy cravings had been hitting hard lately, and the familiar taste of vanilla cream and delicate sponge brought back a flood of memories I'd rather forget.
I was just savoring the second bite when I heard the elevator chime.
Sebastian appeared in the doorway, his tie already loosened and jacket draped over one arm.
His gaze swept the scene—me with cake crumbs on my fingers, the open box on the counter, the card with Lucas's name—and I watched his expression shift from tired to alert in an instant.
"What's this?" His voice was deceptively casual as he moved closer, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tightened on his jacket.
"Lucas sent a thank-you gift," I said, aiming for nonchalance. "Marcus said there's whiskey for you, too."
He ignored the mention of whiskey entirely, his gaze fixed on the half-eaten cake in my hand. "Is it good?" The question sounded innocent enough, but I could hear the edge beneath it, sharp as glass.
"It's fine," I said carefully, setting down the remainder. "Just petit fours from a bakery I used to know."
Sebastian's eyes darkened as he studied me for a moment longer, then he pulled out his phone with deliberate calm.
"It seems I need to send someone a warning about boundaries," he said, his voice carrying that dangerous softness that always preceded trouble.
Without waiting for my response, he was already dialing as he strode toward his study, leaving me alone with the half-eaten evidence of Lucas's unwelcome gesture.
I recognized the signs of one of Sebastian's jealous spirals beginning.
I waited a few moments before tiptoeing down the hall, making a show of heading toward the bedroom but pausing near the study door. Sure enough, Sebastian's voice carried through the gap, low and menacing.
"...if you dare send anything to my house again, Ashton, I'll make sure you understand exactly what kind of man I am..." A pause, then his voice dropped even lower. "Stay away from Elena. This is your only warning."