Chapter 202

Chapter 202

Elizabeth's POV

"Alexander is here." Gray's voice was rougher than last time, like wood worn raw by too much friction. "Sit down."

Alexander didn't sit. He stood in the center of the main hall, his hand wrapped around mine, and looked straight at Gray. "I heard you're planning to have Franklin take Elizabeth as his goddaughter?"

Gray's hand paused. "Who told you that?"

"Is it true or not?"

Gray went silent for a moment. "It is."

Alexander's gaze shifted to Franklin.

Franklin sat back in his chair, relaxed, with that same smile curling at his mouth, the kind that made people uneasy.

He was wearing a dark suit today, looking every bit the respectable elder, polished and dignified.

But I noticed his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest, one beat at a time, steady and measured, like he was counting time.

He was nervous.

"Alexander, I'm doing this for your own good too," Franklin said at last, his voice gentle, almost soothing, like he was coaxing a child. "Elizabeth's father is gone. It hasn't been easy for her, being out there on her own. If she becomes my goddaughter, then she'll be part of The Windsor Family. Whatever happens in the future, the Windsor Family will stand behind her."

Alexander didn't look at him. His eyes stayed on Gray. "You agreed to this?"

Gray lowered his head and looked at the cane in his hand.

He turned it once in his grip. Then again. "I agreed."

Silence settled over the hall.

"And what if I don't?" Alexander's voice wasn't loud, but every word sounded like it had been carved out from beneath the ice of a frozen lake.

Gray looked up at him.

Something flickered in those cloudy old eyes. Guilt, helplessness, maybe something else.

"Alexander, Franklin knows he was wrong," Gray said. "Who goes through life without making mistakes? He's back now. He wants to make things right. He wants to be good to Elizabeth. Good to you. Give him a chance. Give yourself one too."

"Give myself a chance?" Alexander repeated.

I held his hand and felt the faint tremor in his fingers. Not fear. Restraint.

He had been holding it in for fifteen years, all the way to today, to this exact moment. His own grandfather was standing in front of him, speaking up for the man who had killed his father.

Not speaking up. Begging.

Begging him to let it go. Begging him to forgive. Begging him not to pursue it anymore.

"Alexander, your grandfather is old." Gray's voice began to shake. "I don't have many years left. Before I go, I want to see this family whole. Franklin is back. You have Elizabeth now. You have a child. Can't we just live together as a family and live in peace?"

"What about my parents?" Alexander asked softly, so softly it sounded like his voice had come from very far away.

Gray's words died in his throat.

"Don't they get to live their lives too?"

The hall went silent as a grave.

Franklin stood and took two steps toward Alexander. Pain spread across his face, the look of a man trying very hard to play repentance.

"Alexander, I wronged you. I've regretted it all these years. I've blamed myself every day. At night, when I can't sleep, I think about your father. He was my own brother, and I—" His voice broke. He lowered his head and covered his eyes with one hand.

It was a flawless performance. So flawless I might have believed him if I didn't know better.

A man who truly repented wouldn't have smiled at the cameras outside the police station.

A man who truly regretted what he'd done wouldn't have gone straight to The Windsor Group building the same day he made bail, staking his claim.

A man who truly felt guilty wouldn't have sat in the main hall of Windsor Estate and let his father plead for him.

He was acting.

Acting for Gray. Acting for Alexander.

Alexander looked at him, his expression unchanged. "Save it for the courtroom."

Still holding my hand, he turned and walked out.

"Alexander!" Gray's voice cracked behind us, thick with tears. "Stop!"

Alexander didn't stop.

"Alexander! I'm begging you!"

Alexander's steps faltered for a second. Just one.

Then he kept walking, his hand locked around mine as he led me out of Windsor Estate.

The night wind swept over us, cold and sharp.

The sound of insects rose and fell in the mountains, like the night had found its own soundtrack.

Alexander stood on the steps outside Windsor Estate, staring at the dark outline of the mountains in the distance, utterly still.

"Alexander," I called.

He didn't answer.

"Alexander." I stepped in front of him and tilted my face up toward his.

Moonlight fell across his face. His eyes were red, but no tears fell.

He didn't cry. He never did.

He swallowed every tear, buried them in his chest, his stomach, every corner of himself.

"Let's go," he said at last, his voice so hoarse it barely sounded like his. "We're going home."

I laced my fingers through his and walked down the mountain path with him.

His hand was freezing, like it had been submerged in ice water. I held on tighter, trying to pass some of my warmth into him.

When we reached the car, he stopped without warning, turned, and pulled me into his arms.

Hard.

So hard I could feel the frantic beat of his heart, too fast, too uneven for a man who always seemed so controlled.

"Elizabeth."

"I won't let them touch you."

"I know."

"I won't let them lay a finger on you."

"I know."

"I won't let anyone," his voice caught, like he was forcing something down, "I won't let anyone ever hurt you again."

I leaned against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and slowly closed my eyes.

The night wind moved through the sycamore leaves, making them rustle softly. The mountain shadows stood silent in the dark, as if they were watching too.

That night, I understood one thing clearly.

His birthday banquet wouldn't be peaceful.

The only thing I could promise was that I would stay by his side.

Until everything was over. Until the dust settled. Until we never had to worry about any of this again.

I had wanted to say those words out loud so many times.

But every time I stood in front of Alexander, a nervousness I couldn't control rose up in me.

It caught me off guard. It kept me from saying what was really in my heart.

Most of the time, it only left me aching, with no idea how to put any of it into words.

Now, what stood in front of us was something we had to face together.

I didn't know where the future would take us, but every time I looked at Alexander beside me, something inside me settled.

A strange, quiet calm.

"It's okay. I'll face it with you," I said softly, wanting him to understand what I meant.

Only then did I realize that Alexander was easier to understand than I had once thought.

Or maybe it was more accurate to say there were things about him I had never noticed before, things I had never seen clearly.

Those things kept affecting me. Kept reminding me.

Alexander was easier to understand than I had ever imagined.

"Okay," Alexander said quietly.

But I understood exactly what he meant.