Chapter 95 Taking Control
Aiden
Lena winced in pain, the veins in her forehead shooting out, “You are hurting me.”
I let her go with a push and she stumbled back, almost falling over a stool. She steadied herself, smoothed her dress, and held her head high. Her eyes found mine and they were blazing with fury. “You don’t deserve me,” she spat, stepping back and letting her fury fill the space between us. Her hands shook slightly, but her gaze never wavered from mine. I could feel her frustration, her heartbreak, her rage, and I did nothing to soften it. I didn’t move, didn’t apologize, didn’t flinch.
Lena swiped her bag from the chair and stormed off, the door slamming behind her with a finality I refused to acknowledge. The emptiness she left behind felt heavy, suffocating, and yet I refused to move from where I stood. I didn’t want her to see me falter. I didn’t want anyone to see weakness—not now, not ever.
By the time I walked into my father’s study to announce my decisions, my anger had not cooled. Malcolm was seated behind his desk, eyes narrowing the moment he saw me enter. “Aiden,” he said, voice calm but threaded with steel. “I hear you’re planning to refuse this marriage.”
The bitch already told him. I wasn’t surprised.
I stood tall, letting my hands rest on the edge of his desk as I met his gaze without fear. “I refuse. I will not marry Lena. I don’t want her. I don’t want anything to do with her, and I am not afraid to say it. You can take your inheritance, take your wealth, do whatever you want, but I will not marry her. Not now, not ever.”
Malcolm’s brow furrowed, disbelief flashing across his features. “You are refusing your own future, your responsibilities, for what?” he demanded. “Do you know what you’re throwing away?”
I smirked, barely concealing my disgust. “I know exactly what I’m throwing away. I am refusing a life that was never mine to want, with a woman I have no interest in being chained to. I do not need your approval, your money, or your plans for me. I am done living by your rules. You want me to marry her? You go ahead and marry her yourself. After all, your wife is no longer here, so you can take up the position if you wish.”
Malcolm’s jaw clenched visibly, and his hands slammed on the desk with enough force that the surface rattled. “You ungrateful, foolish boy. You want to be a man who makes his own decisions, then it’s fine, but that won’t happen under my roof Leave my house this instant.”
I laughed quietly, a sound that didn’t reach humor but was filled with defiance. “Leave your house?” I asked, leaning closer, voice hard and unyielding. “No, Dad, this is my mother’s house. The only person who can tell me to leave here is Sarah Lancaster, and last I checked, you are not her. I will stay, and I will not bend to your threats.”
Malcolm’s face turned crimson, fury and disbelief battling behind his eyes, and he opened his mouth to speak, but the sudden, jarring sound of gunshots erupted from outside the mansion. They were sharp, rapid, unmistakable, and the entire house seemed to vibrate with the noise.
Both of us froze, the tension in the room instantly shifting from our personal war to the immediate, tangible danger outside. The shots rang out again, closer this time, and the unmistakable sounds of people rushing, doors slamming, and heavy footsteps on polished floors followed.
“What the hell is that?” Dad shouted, eyes wide, panic creeping into his usual control.
“I think we are being attacked.”
Get down!” Dad barked, but I stayed where I was, my mind spinning, trying to track the noise, trying to make sense of the violence erupting around us.
I knew a day like this would come. This house had made too many enemies that we were all leaving on numbered days.
The door to the study burst open before we could move, and all at once, the panic in the halls intensified. People were running, shouting, and crashing into furniture, the sound of hurried footsteps and frantic voices echoing like a storm.
And then she appeared.
Mum.
My heart thundered uncontrollably in my chest. I hadn’t seen her in years. She hasn’t aged one bit. She looked as young and as radiant as I remembered. I didn’t know if I should hug her, or ask her why she returned with the hefty armed men that flanked her.
“Hello, dear husband.” She said sweetly, the victorious smile on her face, never leaving. “ I’m so happy to see you.” She looked at me since she entered the room, but didn’t say a word to me.
This was no longer my mother. Her eyes wear cold and empty, and she has come back for what was rightfully hers.