Chapter 90 Carl

Chapter 90 Carl
Elara’s POV

My heart pounded so fiercely I could hear it thundering in my ears as I stood outside the bedroom door. For a long moment, I simply stared at the handle, my fingers hovering just above it, barely able to believe what waited on the other side.

Vincent had said my brother was inside.

My brother.

The words still didn’t feel real. I had spent my entire life believing I was utterly alone in this world — drifting through shadows, surviving on fragments of forgotten memories and the cold comfort of solitude. Now, somehow, he was only a few feet away. Taking a deep breath to steady the wild flutter in my chest, I slowly pushed the door open.

The room was quiet, filled with warm sunlight streaming through tall windows and casting a golden glow over the neatly furnished space. Dust motes danced lazily in the light, and the faint scent of fresh linen and polished wood lingered in the air. A man stood near the balcony with his back to me, one hand resting on the stone railing as he stared out across the vast Ashmere estate.

He heard the soft creak of the door.

Slowly, he turned.

Our eyes met, and time seemed to stop entirely. For several long seconds, neither of us spoke. His gaze searched my face with quiet, aching intensity, tracing every feature before lingering on my eyes. A sad, tender smile tugged at his lips, softening the hard lines of exhaustion and survival etched into his face.

“Those eyes…” he murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t even need to look twice to know it’s you. You have the same eyes as Mom.”

Emotion swelled in my chest, too powerful to contain, rising like a tide that threatened to drown me. Before I realized what I was doing, I had crossed the room. He met me halfway. The moment his arms wrapped around me, every wall I had built around my heart came crashing down in a single, devastating wave.

I buried my face against his shoulder and cried — not because I was weak, but because for the first time in years, I wasn’t alone. His embrace tightened, strong and protective, one hand gently cradling the back of my head as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear with trembling fingers. The simple gesture felt so achingly familiar, as if some buried part of me had always known this kind of love.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, his voice cracking with unshed tears. “It’s been nineteen years… and I’ve missed you every single day. I searched for you in every face I passed, in every shadow I chased. I never stopped hoping.”

“I missed you too,” I whispered back, my words muffled against his shirt as I clung to him with everything I had, never wanting to let go. His warmth, the steady beat of his heart, the way his arms felt like safety after years of running — it was almost too much. I could smell the faint trace of soap and earth on him, feel the slight tremble in his shoulders as he held me.

We stayed like that for what felt like forever, holding each other as years of loneliness, fear, and unanswered questions poured out between us in silent waves. When we finally pulled apart, he wiped quickly at his eyes with the back of his hand and gave a small, watery laugh that didn’t quite hide the redness in them.

“I guess this isn’t exactly how siblings are supposed to meet,” he said, his voice still rough with feeling.

A watery smile found my lips. “I don’t even know your name.”

“You can call me Carl.” He extended his hand dramatically, then laughed at himself, the sound warm and genuine, breaking some of the heaviness in the room. “Elara.”

“I know,” I replied softly, a smile tugging at my lips despite the tears still clinging to my lashes.

We eventually sat down on the edge of the bed, facing each other. The mattress dipped slightly under our weight, and the silence between us felt comfortable yet heavy with everything we had yet to say. Sunlight painted soft patterns across the floor, but my focus remained entirely on him — on the brother I never knew I had.

“It must’ve been hard,” he said gently, his voice full of quiet understanding as he studied my face, his eyes tracing the faint scars and exhaustion I carried. “All these years, thinking you had no one. Believing you were completely alone in such a cruel world.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It was. Some days I wondered if I was even real… if anyone would ever miss me if I disappeared.”

After a while, I gathered the courage to ask the question that had been haunting me since Vincent had brought us here. “What happened to you? How did you survive for so long… and how did you end up in that place?”

Carl’s smile faded as he looked toward the window, his expression growing distant. He ran a hand through his hair, gathering his thoughts. Silence settled between us for a moment before he began to speak, his voice low and steady, though I could hear the old pain lurking beneath every word.

“I thought Genevieve was the key to finding you. We had met before… in an unpleasant way.” He paused, noticing my confused frown, and offered a small, apologetic smile. “So I tried to take her again. I wanted answers. It didn’t work. A few days later, I tracked her down once more… but I never got the chance. She somehow got the upper hand. When I woke up, I was already there — trapped, confused, and wondering if I would ever see daylight again.”

A chill ran through me. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head slowly. “I’m alive.” His expression darkened.

“Thanks to Vincent.” I said to him.

Something in the way i said Vincent’s name made me look at him more carefully, a quiet unease stirring in my chest. “You don’t sound grateful.”

Carl let out a bitter laugh and stood, moving to face the window as a cool breeze brushed across his face, ruffling his hair. “Grateful?” He turned back to me, eyes flashing with old pain and barely contained anger. “You think I should thank him?”

“He saved us,” I said softly, my voice almost pleading. “He saved you.”

Carl’s gaze became distant, haunted by memories I couldn’t see. “That doesn’t erase what he did before.” He drew in a shaky breath, his shoulders tensing. “I remember that night. My parents begged him. They begged Vincent Ashmere not to kill them.”

“I saw it all.”

“He murdered them.”

He reached beneath the collar of his shirt and pulled out a thin silver chain. Hanging from it was a small raven pendant, glinting faintly in the sunlight. He held it between his fingers, his voice dropping to a painful whisper filled with raw grief.

“My mother put this around my neck the day I was born. She said it would keep me safe.”

“After killing them, Vincent looked at me. He knew I was only a child. He walked over… put his hand on my shoulder… and he tried to compel me.” His breathing grew uneven, the pain of the memory still fresh after all these years. “‘Forget. Forget tonight. Forget your parents. Forget everything.’”

I watched as his fingers tightened around the pendant until his knuckles turned white. “He thought it worked. But he never noticed this.” He lifted the raven charm, his eyes glistening. “My mother said it would protect me. It protected my mind. The compulsion failed.”

The weight of his words pressed down on me. How would I tell my brother that I already knew parts of Vincent’s darkness, but had chosen to see the man who had risked everything for me? The conflict tore at my heart.

Carl looked directly into my eyes, his voice calm but heavy with quiet accusation.

“So tell me, Elara…”

“After hearing that… do you still trust Vincent?”