Chapter 196

Chapter 196

Elizabeth's POV

I laughed until I was done, then wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and looked at his profile.

"Alexander."

"Mm."

"You should say things like that more often."

"What kind of things?"

"The truth."

He turned to look at me and held my gaze for a long moment. Then he reached over and ruffled my hair.

That afternoon, Alexander got a phone call.

He went into the study to take it, and the door closed behind him, so I couldn't hear what he was saying. But I saw his expression change. It wasn't nerves, and it wasn't anger. It was something more complicated than that, something I couldn't quite name.

When he hung up, he came out and stopped in the doorway of the study, looking at me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Franklin came back early."

My heart dropped. "When?"

"Recently." Alexander's voice stayed flat, but I noticed the way his hand tightened at his side. "The birthday banquet is on the eighteenth next month. He moved his return up by a full month."

"Why did he come back?"

"To find me." Alexander looked straight at me. "To find you. And to find that notebook."

I stood and walked over to him. "Are you scared?"

He looked down at me, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

There was no warmth in that smile, but there was something steady in it, something that made me feel calmer.

"Scared?" He repeated. "I've been waiting for him for fifteen years."

The news of Franklin's early return hit like a stone dropped into still water.

For the next two days, Alexander practically lived in the study. One phone call after another. One file after another. Charles kept coming and going, his expression growing heavier each time.

I didn't interrupt him, but every time I passed the study, I slowed down and looked through the narrow gap in the door.

He sat behind the desk with his brow drawn tight, his fingers flying over the keyboard. The coffee on his desk went cold, got replaced, and went cold again.

By the third morning, I couldn't take it anymore.

I pushed open the study door with a tray of breakfast in my hands. He looked up at me once, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"You didn't sleep at all, did you?" I asked.

"I slept."

"Liar."

He didn't deny it.

I set the breakfast on the desk and stood in front of him, looking down at him.

"Alexander, you promised me you wouldn't carry this alone."

"I'm not carrying it alone. Charles is helping."

"I'm not talking about Charles." My voice tightened. "I mean me. You promised you'd let me stay beside you."

He leaned back in his chair and looked up at me.

Morning light slipped through the gap in the curtains and fell across his face, making the dark shadows under his eyes stand out even more.

He looked exhausted. Not just physically. It was the kind of exhaustion that came from holding on too long, staying braced too long, getting too close to the edge.

"Franklin gets here tomorrow," he said.

My heart gave a hard thud. "Tomorrow?"

"Morning flight. He's already arranged a car to take him straight from the airport to Windsor Estate."

"To see Mr. Gray Windsor?"

Alexander paused. "He wants to talk to Grandpa before the birthday banquet."

I didn't say anything. My thoughts were already racing.

Franklin had come back a month early, and instead of going home, he was going straight to Windsor Estate.

He wanted Gray settled before everyone else showed up.

If Gray gave in, no one would dare say a word at the banquet.

"Do you think Mr. Gray Windsor will give in?" I asked.

Alexander was quiet for a moment. "I don't know."

I looked at him, then asked the question I'd been keeping inside for a long time.

"Alexander, do you hate your grandfather?"

His fingers stilled against the desk.

"I did." His voice was very soft. "In the years right after my parents died, I hated him every day. I hated Franklin. I hated Grandpa. I hated everyone in the Windsor Family. I thought they were the reason my parents died. I thought they protected the man responsible. I thought they turned me into an orphan."

He lowered his head and looked at his own hands. "Later, I stopped. Not because I forgave them. Just because hating them was exhausting."

I walked over and stood beside him, then reached down and took his hand.

He didn't move. He didn't speak. He just turned his hand and gripped mine tightly.

"Tomorrow, I want to go to Windsor Estate with you," I said.

He looked up at me. "Elizabeth."

"I'm not asking." I held his gaze. "Franklin wants to see Gray. He wants to talk about the notebook. This involves me. I'm not staying away."

Alexander stared at me for a long time, so long I thought he was going to refuse.

"Okay," he said at last. "But you have to promise me one thing."

"What?"

"No matter what Franklin says, no matter what Grandpa says, you don't speak."

"Why?"

"Because the second you say one word, they'll use it against me." His voice turned low and heavy. "You're my weakness. They know that."

The words I wanted to say lodged in my throat. I looked at him, then swallowed them back down.

"Okay," I said. "I won't speak."

The next morning, Alexander and I sat in the car on the way to Windsor Estate.

The cabin was so quiet I could hear us breathing.

Alexander wore a dark suit, his tie knotted tight, and the whole of him looked like a blade pulled from its sheath.

I wore flats and a loose dark outfit. Beneath the fabric, the slight curve of my belly showed only faintly.

The car stopped at the bottom of the hill.

It was the same uphill road. The same rows of sycamore trees.

But today felt different.

The last time we came, darkness had covered everything. I couldn't see the road clearly. Couldn't see the house. Couldn't see the people.

Today, the sun was bright. Everything lay out in the open, fully exposed, with nowhere to hide.

The gate at Windsor Estate was open.

Not barely cracked. Not thrown wide.

Just open enough for one person to pass through, no more and no less.

Alexander took my hand and looked down at me. "Remember what you promised."

We walked in.

Someone was already in the main hall.

Gray sat in a high-backed chair, his cane beside him, dressed the same as before. But his expression was different today. Gone was that calm authority I'd seen last time. In its place was something taut and cautious, like a man facing a choice and unsure which answer would save him.

And standing across from Gray was a man.

His back was to us, so I couldn't see his face.

But something about his silhouette made my skin crawl. Not because he looked like anyone I knew, but because he stood there as if he were part of the house itself.

He belonged here.

More than Alexander did.

"Alexander is here," Gray said, his voice rough.

The man turned around.

For the first time, I saw Franklin's face.

His features looked somewhat like Alexander's, but the feeling he gave off was completely different.

Alexander was cold. Quiet. The kind of cold that kept everything buried under ice.

Franklin wasn't.

He wore a smile, his eyes narrowed almost into slits, like a kind older relative, like a harmless old man.