“The library,” he repeats, and I watch him physically restrain himself from turning toward the house. “Inside. Right now.”
“They’re fine. They’re playing. They’re happy.”
“I’m sure they are,” Cal says, but there’s an edge underneath the words. An intensity that makes my skin prickle. “But five years old. Born in October. Parker, you have to understand what that?—”
“I know what it looks like,” I interrupt. “I know what you’re thinking. And I promise we’ll talk. But not here. Not with Charles twenty feet away and two children inside who don’t need to hear any of this.”
“Okay,” Silas says, and there’s something dangerous in his tone now. Something that makes my pulse kick into overdrive. “We’ll give you one day, firefly. But after that?—”
“After that, I’ll tell you everything,” I promise, even though the thought terrifies me. “I swear.”
“Everything,” Jace echoes. “Including?—”
“Including everything,” I confirm.
Charles’s voice carries across the driveway. “She’s finally leaving! Marcus is going to escort her to the guest house, make sure she actually stays there.”
He’s jogging back toward us, and all three men take a subtle step back. Creating distance. Making it look casual instead of conspiratorial.
“Sorry about that,” Charles says as he reaches us, completely oblivious to the tension crackling in the air. “Aria always has to make everything about her.” He glances at his watch. “We should finalize the arrangements for tomorrow. Viewing at seven, service at nine.”
“And security?” Jace asks, his voice back to professional neutrality. “For family?”
“Standard protocols,” Charles says, looking at me. “Extra detail on Parker and the boys since this is their first public appearance.”
My stomach clenches. “Is that necessary?”
“Yes,” all four men say simultaneously, and the unanimity would be funny if it weren’t so concerning.
“People will be curious,” Charles explains. “About where you’ve been. About your children.” He hesitates. “It’s better to be cautious.”
About whether my sons are Carter heirs. About who their father is. About whether they represent a threat or an asset to the various families watching our every move.
“Fine,” I say, because fighting it seems pointless. “But the boys stay close to me.”
“Agreed,” Jace says immediately, and something in his voice makes it clear he means that in more ways than one.
A crash from inside the house, followed by Noah’s distinctive laugh and Liam’s exasperated“Noah!”
“I should go,” I say, grateful for the excuse. “Before they destroy something priceless.”
I start toward the door, but Silas’s hand catches my wrist. Just for a second. Just long enough for me to feel the heat of his skin, the barely restrained strength in his fingers.
“One day, firefly,” he says quietly. “Then we talk.”
I pull free and keep walking, past Cal, who’s watching me with those amber eyes that see too much, past Jace, who stands like a soldier and looks at me like I’m a tactical problem that just got infinitely more complicated.
From the doorway, I see Aria getting herself together by the moving truck. She’s wiping her eyes, fixing her hair, trying to compose herself.
Then she looks back toward the house. Toward where the three men are still standing with Charles.
Her eyes find Silas.
Even from here, I can see the way her expression shifts. Something desperate. Something pleading.
Silas doesn’t look at her. Deliberately keeps his attention on whatever Charles is saying, his body angled away from her like he’s physically rejecting her presence.
Aria’s face crumbles. Not from embarrassment about being thrown out. Something deeper. Something that looks like actual heartbreak.
