As if Callum can sleep in a castle that suddenly feels like it might be taken from him.
As if he can close his eyes without seeing fire and wreckage, without hearing Keir’s voice telling him to get his head on straight, without feeling the cold hollow of being orphaned, again.
Callum stands abruptly from the couch, his balance teetering.
Bell looks up.“Mr.Fraser?—”
Callum’s voice is raw.“Tell me one thing.”
“Yes?”
“Did Keir…did he ever look for her?”
Bell hesitates.“I don’t know.But based on financial records, he sent regular payments to Miss MacLaren and her mother.”
Callum flinches.Regular payments.
Keir had always been good at sending money in the right direction.It was easier than showing up.Easier than being seen.
Callum turns away, staring at the window where the fog presses against the glass.The land outside is gray and ancient and indifferent.
“A daughter,” Callum says again, like saying it might make it make sense.
Bell’s voice is gentle.“She’ll be here soon.”
Callum closes his eyes.
He can handle grief.He can handle loss.He can handle rage.
But this, this feels like the start of something else entirely.
Keir is gone, and with him the one person who held Callum’s world together.
Now the castle waits, cold and watchful.And even that could be taken from him.
And somewhere across an ocean, a woman who shares Keir’s blood is coming here, into Callum’s home, into Callum’s life, carrying a claim Callum never saw coming.
Callum opens his eyes, jaw clenched.
He isn’t just grieving.
He’s bracing for war.
And the worst part is, he doesn’t even know who the enemy is yet.
“I’m not giving up the castle.It’s mine.”
Chapter3
By the time the castle comes into view, Isla MacLaren is operating on rage, caffeine, and stubborn refusal.
The drive from the airport has blurred into gray roads and mist and her mother’s relentless voice.Twelve hours of flying, three connections, one merciless overnight layover, and Alisa MacLaren has not stopped talking once, not to rest, not to think, not to breathe.
“He ruined everything,” Alisa says from the back seat of the hired car, her tone sharp and precise, as if she’s delivering a lecture instead of reliving a marriage.“Absolutely everything.Do you know how humiliating it was, being married to a man like that?”
Isla stares out the window, jaw tight, watching stone fences slide past in the fog.
“You’ve told me,” Isla says quietly.
