Chapter 49 Apology
Aiden
The long drive to the Harrington estate felt heavier than any trip I had ever taken. I knew every curve of the road, every stretch of smooth asphalt, but tonight, the journey was slow and choked with the weight of my own failures.
The Harrington estate sat on the far end of the city, perched like a predator on a hill. I’d been there countless times before, but tonight it felt heavier.
I parked in the long, stone-paved driveway and killed the engine. For a few seconds, I just sat there, my hands gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady the chaos that had been eating through me all week. I hated being here. I hated everything about what this visit meant.
My father had made it clear that if I didn’t make peace with the Harringtons, the Judge would reopen every old case with our name on it, and that would destroy us. So, here I was, crawling into the lion’s den to beg for forgiveness I didn’t mean. If it weren’t for Malcolm Lancaster’s threats, I wouldn’t be here at all. I didn’t apologize to people. Not to women. Not to anyone.
When I finally stepped out, the wind caught my coat, brushing against my face with a sharp chill. I looked up, and there she was, Lena Harrington, standing on the balcony like a queen surveying her traitor. Her arms were crossed, her face unreadable except for the anger burning in her eyes. She didn’t even flinch when she saw me. No warmth, no welcome. Just pure, cold resentment.
I walked up the marble steps and through the giant double doors, where the smell of cigars, and aged whiskey greeted me. The living room looked the same as I remembered, rich, excessive, suffocating. Most of this bastard's wealth was gotten from the Lancaster.
Aside from the few minor business problems he helped us solve, I believe he knows a deeper secret about the Lancaster — something that neither Jacob nor I know. It’s made him arrogant, more demanding and controlling, like he has the upper hand.
George Harrington sat on one of those massive armchairs near the fireplace, legs crossed, a cigar between his fingers. Two men in black suits stood nearby.
When he saw me, the Judge leaned back slightly and exhaled a slow ribbon of smoke. His eyes flicked to the men beside him. “Give us a moment,” he said.
The men nodded and walked out without a sound. The door shut behind them with a soft click that somehow made the silence louder.
“Lancaster,” he said after a long pause. His voice carried weight, the kind that filled the room even when he whispered. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here.”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t make me sound weak or foolish. I stood there, steady, expressionless. Judge Harold liked men who looked him in the eye. I gave him that much.
He flicked the ash off his cigar and gestured lazily toward the seat across from him. “Sit.”
I sat, but not because he told me to, because standing would’ve made this seem like a standoff, and that wasn’t why I came.
“I’m sure you know why I’m here,” I said finally. My voice came out low, calm, the way it always did when I was forcing myself not to explode.
He tilted his head. “Enlighten me.”
I swallowed hard. “I made a mess. I know that. I’m here to make things right.”
The Judge laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “You think you can make things right by showing up here and saying that?” He took another puff, watching me through the smoke.
Before I could answer, Lena came down the stairs then. She walked like someone who had been planning a trap and now was ready to throw it. She stopped near the fireplace. Her eyes did not look soft. They were cold and precise.
“It’s fine Dad,” she said after a beat. “He can speak.”
The Judge looked at her and then back at me. “You hurt her again, and I promise you, Lancaster, I’ll destroy you.” His voice dropped lower, darker. “When I bite, my venom kills.”
He left the room, the scent of his cigar smoke lingering behind like a threat that would never fade.
Now it was just me and Lena.
For a long time, neither of us spoke. She stood there, arms folded, looking at me as though I were something she used to own and now despised. I looked at her, trying to summon words I didn’t even want to say.
Apologizing wasn’t my thing. I didn’t bow. I didn’t kneel. I didn’t ask for forgiveness — not from anyone. But here I was, doing exactly that, for my father’s sake.
“I didn’t come here to fight,” I finally said. “I came because it’s time I made things right.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she walked closer, slow and deliberate. “I told you that you will regret messing with me Aiden. You want to make things right?” she repeated, her voice low but sharp. “You humiliated me, Aiden. You made a fool out of me in front of the entire staff—before a maid.” Her lip curled. “A maid, Aiden. Do you know how that felt?”
“I didn’t mean for things to go that far,” I said calmly.
“Were you fucking her?” She asked, pinning me with a hard gaze.
“No. I wouldn’t even fuck that bitch with a borrowed cock.” I lied, technically, I’ve never had my cock inside Elsie, but I lied that I do not desire to if that helps solve the case.
Elsie is someone I wanted to take my time with. I didn’t want to rush into fucking her like Jacob did. I wanted to give her time, I wanted her to come to me and beg for it.
Lena’s face softened a bit, “but you touched her.” She pressed.
I looked down for a moment, not out of shame, but because if I looked at her any longer, I might say something I’d regret. There was a sudden, violent thought that passed through me — the kind of dark flash that comes when someone keeps pushing you, testing your patience. I wanted to grab her by the throat and silence her just to stop the venom coming out of her mouth. But I didn’t move. I stayed still. Controlled. Because control was what kept me alive in this family.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, the words tasting bitter. “I never meant for things to get out of hand. I was angry, and I handled it wrong.”
The apology felt like a stone in my throat. If my father hadn’t forced my hand, I wouldn’t be here saying it. I wasn’t the kind of man who begged for mercy or forgiveness. This wasn’t me. But it had to be done.
Lena stared at me for a long time, and then her lips curved into a smile that was nothing short of cruel. She turned slightly, brushing her hair over one shoulder. “You want to make it right?” she asked softly. “Then make her pay.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Elsie,” she said, her tone like silk wrapped around a knife. “The little maid you threw everything away for. I want her to suffer for humiliating me. I want her to wake up every morning and wish she had never met you. I want her to feel worthless, broken, ruined. You made me the laughingstock of this city, Aiden. You owe me that.”
I clenched my jaw. “She had nothing to do with this. This is between you and me.”
“Wrong,” she snapped. “She’s the reason it happened. And if you want me to even consider forgiving you, if you want your father to stop drowning you in his disappointment, you’ll do this for me.”
The room felt smaller. The walls seemed to close in. I could hear the faint ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece, every second like a hammer.
She wanted me to destroy Elsie. To crush the only pure thing that had entered my life in years.
“I promised my father I’d stay away from her,” I said finally, my voice low. “I will. That’s enough.”
Lena’s eyes gleamed. “Oh no. That’s the easy part. I want a real punishment.”
When I left the Harrington estate, the night had fallen completely. I climbed into the car, shut the door, and just sat there.
My chest felt heavy. The road stretched dark and endless ahead. The hardest part wasn’t Lena’s condition, or my father’s rage, or even the humiliation of bowing my head before a man like Judge Harrington.
No. The real punishment was what came next — seeing Elsie every day, hearing her voice, feeling her presence just a few feet away, and not being able to touch her. Not being able to even look at her the way I wanted to.