Chapter 203

Chapter 203

Alexander's POV

Not long after we got home, Elizabeth fell asleep.

I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her sleeping face.

Her hand was still resting over mine. Even in her sleep, she hadn't let go.

Moonlight slipped through the gap in the curtains and fell across her face, turning her lashes into two delicate fans.

When she was asleep, the faint crease between her brows was gone. She looked nothing like she did during the day, when she always seemed to carry some quiet worry.

I reached out and brushed the loose strands of hair from her forehead, tucking them behind her ear.

She shifted a little and leaned closer to me, mumbling something under her breath that I couldn't make out.

Something inside me surged hard.

I gently eased my hand free, pulled the blanket up around her, and stepped out of the bedroom.

After I closed the study door behind me, I didn't turn on the light.

I shut my eyes, and the scene in the main hall of Windsor Estate rose in front of me.

Gray sat in the high-backed armchair, Franklin seated to his left.

Two men. Two cups of tea. Candles burning in the silver holders.

The whole scene was so still that it looked like a painting.

A painting called 'a loving father and a devoted son.'

My father was dead.

He lay in the morgue for three days before anyone claimed him.

The watch Gray had given him was still on his wrist. The crystal was shattered, and the hands had stopped at 7:43.

And my mother? She was in the hospital, covered in blood, clutching my hand as she told me, "Watch out for Franklin."

That was the last thing she ever said.

Then she was gone.

I sat in a chair in the hospital hallway, gripping that broken watch in my hand, and I didn't shed a single tear.

When Charles called, I had no idea how long I'd been standing by the window. "Mr. Windsor, everything's been arranged."

"There will be reporters from three media outlets at the birthday banquet that day. They weren't invited by the Windsor Family directly. They'll be entering under the names of business partners. I personally selected the reporters, and the stories are already drafted. The second the photos are taken, they'll go live."

"The lawyer?"

"He'll be there too, posing as a guest, so he won't draw attention. The moment Franklin shows up, he'll start legal proceedings."

I went quiet for a moment. "There's one more thing."

"Yes, Mr. Windsor."

"Do you know about Franklin taking a goddaughter?"

Charles was silent for a beat. "I heard. The rumor came from Mr. Gray Windsor's side."

"If he announces it at the birthday banquet, I want the media to push it out immediately. You know what the headline should be."

"I do."

After I hung up, I stood by the window and looked out at the city lights in the distance.

This city was huge, big enough to hold every person's greed and ambition.

Franklin wanted to come back. Gray wanted to protect him. Aiden wanted to stay alive. Elizabeth wanted the truth.

What did I want?

I didn't know.

I used to want the truth. I spent fifteen years digging for it, and I found it.

I used to want Franklin to admit what he'd done. He admitted it.

I used to want Gray to choose me.

He didn't.

And now? What did I still want?

I didn't know.

But I'd realized one thing. I wanted Elizabeth to be safe.

Nothing more. Just safe.

Not the kind of safety that came from locking her away in a villa. Not the kind that meant keeping her under my wing. I wanted the kind of safety where she could walk freely in the sunlight and never have to worry about anyone hurting her.

She had told me before that she wasn't a canary in a gilded cage.

I remembered.

The next morning, when I came downstairs, Elizabeth was already in the dining room.

She was wearing a light-colored lounge set, her hair loosely tied back. There was a glass of milk in front of her, and she was holding a slice of toast, chewing slowly.

When she saw me, she looked up, and her eyes curved in a small smile.

I sat across from her.

Lisa brought over breakfast, the usual for me: black coffee and a sandwich.

Elizabeth glanced at me, then took the black coffee away. "You're drinking milk today."

"I don't drink milk."

"You do today." Her tone left no room for argument. "You didn't sleep well last night. Milk's better for your stomach."

I looked at her and said nothing.

She tilted her head when she saw my expression. "What?"

"Nothing." I picked up the milk and took a sip. It didn't taste good, but she watched me drink it with a deeply satisfied look on her face.

"What's your plan today?" She asked.

"I'm going to the office."

"Is Franklin going in again today?"

"I don't know."

"And if he does?"

"Then I leave."

She froze for a second.

"Leave? Go where?"

"To somewhere he wouldn't dare go." I set the glass down. "He's winning people over at the company because he thinks the company is his foundation. But he's forgotten one thing. Legally, the company is mine."

Elizabeth looked at me, and the light in her eyes slowly brightened. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing." I stood, picked up my jacket, and said, "I'm just going to remind him that wherever he stands, he's standing on my ground."

By the time I got to the office, Charles was already waiting for me.

His expression was graver than usual, and he had a tablet in his hand, the screen filled with dense blocks of text.

"Mr. Windsor, Franklin didn't come in today."

"But he sent something."

"What?"

Charles handed me the tablet.

On the screen was a photo of a thick envelope with my name written across the front.

I didn't recognize the handwriting. It wasn't Franklin's, and it wasn't Gray's either.

"What's inside?"

"We didn't open it. The man who delivered it said it was a handwritten letter from Franklin to you."

I handed the tablet back.

"Burn it."

"Mr. Windsor—"

"Burn it. Don't read it."

Charles went still for a moment, then nodded and turned to leave.

"Charles." He stopped.

"Elizabeth is coming with me to the birthday banquet. Put people on her. I don't want her out of your sight."

"Understood." Then he left.

I sat alone in the office, looking out at the city beyond the windows.

Sunlight hit the glass facade of the building across from mine and flashed back in a hard, blinding glare.

I wasn't refusing to read Franklin's letter because I wasn't curious.

I was.

But I already knew what was in it.

An apology. Regret. A plea for forgiveness.

My phone buzzed.

A message from Elizabeth.

[Did you get to the office?]

[I did.]

[Did you eat?]

[No.]

[Go eat now.]

I looked at the message and felt the corner of my mouth lift.

[Okay.]

I set my phone down, got to my feet, and walked out of the office.

The hallway was quiet except for the sound of my footsteps.

When I passed the office that had been sealed for fifteen years, I paused.

The lock was still the same one.

But the cylinder had been changed.

I had changed it.

He would never walk into that room again.

There were less than two weeks left until the birthday banquet.

I was waiting.

Waiting for that day to come. Waiting for everyone to be there. Waiting for Franklin to walk into that ballroom. Waiting for him to sit down in front of everyone. Waiting for Gray to announce that Franklin was coming back.

And then it would all be over.

Not his end, but mine.

Ending these fifteen years of waiting, ending these fifteen years of hatred, ending these fifteen years of loneliness.

And then I would go home.

To the home where Elizabeth was waiting.