Chapter 14
The atmosphere inside the Creed mansion was sickeningly domestic. Golden light from the chandelier bounced off the silver cutlery, casting a warm glow over a scene that felt like a desecration of everything Amara had built there.
“The noodles are here,” the maid said, her voice tight with a simmering fury. She set the tray down with a sharp clack, her eyes darting to the empty chair where
Amara used to sit. She looked at Sebastian, the man who had just left his wife broken in a hospital bed, and then at Elara, who was preening like a queen. With a final look of pure disgust, the maid turned and marched out before she said something that would get her fired.
“There you go,” Sebastian said, his voice light and untroubled. He tucked a napkin into his collar, looking every bit the relaxed family man.
“Wow, that smells amazing,” Elara purred, leaning into the steam.
“Smells so good!” six-year-old Seren chirped, her eyes wide as she mimicked Elara’s enthusiasm.
Sebastian chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his daughter’s hair. “You haven’t even tried it yet. You little teaser p>
The three of them laughed a bright, happy sound that should have been impossible while Amara lay in a cold hospital room, mourning a child they had helped destroy. Seren, eager to please the woman who had replaced her mother in a single afternoon, carefully pushed a bowl toward Elara.
“There you go,” the little girl said with a toothy grin. “You know, it’s my baby brother who’s hungry. I have to make sure he eats p>
Elara’s eyes flickered with a triumphant spark as she looked at Sebastian. “Oh? And how do you know I’m having a boy, Seren?” She turned her gaze to Seb, her voice dropping to a coy, intimate whisper. “Seb, what about you? Do you want a boy or a girl p>
Sebastian smiled, the memory of the “mercenary” in the warehouse already shoved into a dark corner of his mind. “As long as it’s ours, Elara, I don’t care. A son to carry the name, or a daughter as beautiful as you… Either way, it’s a blessing p>
He had no idea that while he toasted to a lie, his true blessing, the miracle Amara had prayed for, was being wheeled into a cold operating room.
The steam from the noodles curled into the air, but to Sebastian, it looked like the shifting shadows of the warehouse. No matter where he turned his eyes, the hallway, the dinner table, the staircase, he saw Amara’s face. Not the peaceful face of his wife, but the haunting, tear-streaked ghost of the woman he thought he’d heard screaming his name.
“Seren, your dad’s had a long day. Get him some noodles,” Elara said, her voice cutting through his trance. She had noticed the way his gaze turned hollow.
“It’s alright. I’m not eating,” Seb muttered, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for his jacket. The guilt was a physical weight in his chest, an anchor dragging him toward the hospital.
“Going out? Now?” Elara’s voice sharpened, the mask of the victim slipping for a fraction of a second. “It’s late. Where are you going p>
“I’m going to check on Amara,” Seb said, his voice flat.
“It’s late, she’s probably resting. You should go tomorrow,” Elara countered quickly, stepping into his path. She couldn’t let him go not yet. Not until the doctors had finished cleaning up the mess she had made.
“Daddy, please don’t go!” Seren cried out, sensing the tension. The little girl looked between them, her bottom lip wobbling. “I want to eat with both of you. I… I want Mommy to stay tonight. I never thought I wanted to say that, but… Dad, I’m making tea tonight p>
Seb looked down at his daughter, his heart twisting. “Seren, don’t do this. Amara is also your mom. Understand p>
“But she’s not here!” Seren shouted, her childish logic fueled by Elara’s manipulations. “When she gets back, I’ll make sure to get along. But tonight… I’m scared p>
Elara seized the moment, placing a comforting hand on Seren’s shoulder. “Seb, can I stay the night? Seren was so frightened by what happened today. I’m afraid she might have nightmares p>
“Dad, let Mommy stay here for a few days! Please!” Seren begged, wrapping her arms around Sebastian’s waist.
Seb stood frozen. Every instinct told him to run to the hospital, to verify that the woman in the sack wasn’t the woman he loved. But the sight of his frightened daughter and the woman carrying his child anchored him to the floor. He felt trapped in a house that suddenly felt like a stranger’s.
“Okay,” Seb finally sighed, the word tasting like ash. “You can stay here for a few days. Alright, she can stay. Finish your noodles p>
“You are the best dad in the world!” Seren cheered, hugging him tight.
“Thank you so much, Seb,” Elara whispered, her eyes meeting his with a look of feigned gratitude. Behind him, she smiled at her reflection in the darkened window. She had moved into the mansion. Amara was out, and she was in.
She just had to make sure Amara never came back.
The walls of the hospital room were a sterile, blinding white, but all Amara could see was the dark red smear on the warehouse floor.
“Miss Piers, you’ve lost a lot of blood and have significant internal injuries,” the doctor said, his voice echoing as he adjusted her IV drip. “You have to stay here for observation. We need to monitor the healing process p>
“Alright,” Amara whispered, her voice a hollow shell. “Thank you p>
“You’re welcome. Please, get some rest p>
As the door clicked shut, the silence became an enemy. Amara curled onto her side, her hand hovering over the space where her miracle had lived just hours before. The physical pain was a dull roar, but the emotional agony was a tidal wave.
No, no, no… I’m sorry, she sobbed into the scratchy hospital pillow. My dear, I failed to protect you. I failed you. Then, the grief began to harden. It calcified into a cold, sharp diamond of rage.
It wasn’t just the men in the warehouse, it was the woman who pulled the strings and the man who had authorized the blows. Through her tears, she reached for the phone on the bedside table. Her fingers trembled as she dialed the emergency line.
“I want to report an attempted murder,” she told the dispatcher, her voice suddenly steady and lethal. “I have names. I have a location p>
Just as she hung up, the door pushed open. Julian stood there, his arms full of bags, soft blankets, high-end toiletries, things to make the cold room feel like a home. He saw her shaking, the phone still clutched in her hand, and his heart broke. He dropped the bags and rushed toward her, his hand reaching out to brush a stray hair from her forehead.
“Amara, I’m here. I’ve got everything under control, you don’t have to p>
“Thank you for saving me, but you don’t have to stay,” she choked out, flinching away from his touch.
Julian froze. “Amara, let me help you. You shouldn’t be alone right now p>
“Please leave!” she cried, her eyes flashing with a mix of trauma and fury. “I need to be alone. Please. Just… go p>
Julian’s face fell, a shadow of deep pain crossing his features, but he respected her wish. He knew she still didn’t remember him, and he was just a stranger who helped her the first time she was too drunk to remember his face and the second time her life was almost over. He knew she was trying to hold herself together before she completely shattered. He slowly backed away, leaving the gifts on the chair.
“I’ll be right outside the door,” he promised quietly. “I’m not leaving the building. If you need anything, anything at all, just scream p>
He stepped out, and the moment the door closed, Amara let out a primal, muffled scream into her pillow. She wasn’t the victim anymore. She was the witness, the judge, and she was going to be the executioner.