EPISODE 24
ALTHEA
The sound of Lucia’s heels faded down the corridor, but the tension she left behind didn’t.
It clung to the air.
Heavy.
Unsettled.
No one spoke.
For a moment, it felt like everything had paused—like the world itself was waiting for something to break.
I exhaled slowly, flexing my fingers slightly at my side.
My palm still tingled faintly from the impact, but my expression didn’t change.
I didn’t regret it.
Not even a little.
“She deserved that.”
Adrian’s voice was calm, almost thoughtful, but it broke the silence cleanly.
I glanced at him briefly, a small breath leaving me.
“I didn’t do it for her.”
“I know,” he said.
Of course he did.
That was the thing about him—he didn’t misread intentions.
He understood them.
Behind me, I felt it before I heard it.
Elias.
Still there.
Still watching.
“You’ve changed.”
His voice was quieter now.
Not sharp.
Not demanding.
Just… certain.
I turned to face him fully.
“I had to.”
His gaze held mine, searching in a way that felt different from before.
Less aggressive.
More… aware.
“And this version of you,” he said slowly, “does she still feel the same?”
The question landed differently this time.
Not like before.
Not like a demand.
Like he was trying to understand.
I crossed my arms lightly, grounding myself.
“You don’t get to ask me that like nothing happened.”
“I’m not pretending nothing happened.”
“It sounds like it,” I replied.
His jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t snap back.
Instead, he stepped closer—slower this time, more controlled.
“I heard what you said,” he admitted.
My chest tightened.
Of course he did.
“And?” I asked.
His gaze flickered briefly, like he was choosing his words carefully for once.
“And I don’t like it.”
A small, almost disbelieving breath left me.
“You don’t like it?”
“No.”
“That’s not my problem.”
The words came out sharper than I intended—but I didn’t take them back.
Elias exhaled, running a hand through his hair again.
“You said you don’t know if you were waiting for me… or who I used to be.”
I didn’t respond.
Because it was true.
“And you’re still here,” he added.
“That doesn’t mean what you think it means.”
“Then tell me what it means.”
There it was again.
That pull.
That insistence.
But this time—
I didn’t fold under it.
“It means I’m not running anymore,” I said calmly.
“Not from you. Not from this. I’m standing here and facing it.”
His eyes locked onto mine.
“Then face me.”
I held his gaze.
“I am.”
Silence stretched between us again, thick and charged—but no longer chaotic.
Different.
More controlled.
More dangerous.
Adrian shifted slightly beside me, his presence steady but unmistakable.
“She doesn’t owe you answers on your terms.”
Elias’ eyes flicked to him briefly, irritation flashing—but it didn’t explode the way it would have before.
Instead, he looked back at me.
“She owes me honesty,” he said.
“I’ve been honest,” I replied.
“Not completely.”
My jaw tightened slightly.
“And you have?”
That hit.
I saw it.
The pause.
The hesitation.
Good.
“Exactly,” I said quietly.
Another silence.
Then—
“I’m trying,” Elias said. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
The words were low.
Rough.
Unexpected.
I stilled.
Because that— that wasn’t something he said easily.
Or ever.
“I didn’t ask you to,” I replied, but my voice softened just slightly despite myself.
“No,” he said.
“But I’m doing it anyway.”
Something in my chest shifted.
Small.
Dangerous.
I hated that it did.
Adrian noticed it too.
Of course he did.
His posture straightened slightly, his tone still calm—but firmer now.
“Trying doesn’t undo what’s already been done.”
Elias’ gaze snapped to him.
“And standing here pretending you’re the better option doesn’t change anything either.”
“I’m not pretending,” Adrian replied evenly.
“I’m just not making things harder for her than they already are.”
The tension snapped tight again.
I stepped forward slightly before it could escalate.
“Stop.”
Both of them went still.
“This isn’t a competition,” I said firmly.
“And I’m not a prize for either of you to argue over.”
Adrian inclined his head slightly.
“I know.”
Elias didn’t respond immediately.
But his silence said enough.
I exhaled slowly, the weight of everything pressing down again—but this time, I didn’t let it overwhelm me.
“I’m not that girl anymore,” I said, looking directly at Elias.
“The one who waited. The one who accepted whatever you gave her and called it enough.”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“I know,” he said.
“And if you’re trying now,” I continued, my voice steady, “then understand this—I’m not meeting you halfway. You meet me where I am. Or you don’t meet me at all.”
The words settled between us.
Final.
Clear.
No confusion.
Elias stared at me for a long moment, something shifting behind his eyes—something deeper than anger, deeper than frustration.
Something that looked dangerously close to realization.
Then—
“Then I’ll meet you there.”
My breath caught.
Just slightly.
Because this time— it didn’t sound like a challenge.
It sounded like a promise.
And that was far more dangerous.
I didn’t respond.
Didn’t trust myself to.
Instead, I stepped back.
Creating space.
Control.
Distance.
Because I needed it.
“Goodnight, Elias.”
His name felt different on my lips this time.
Not soft.
Not familiar.
Just… intentional.
I turned to Adrian, my voice quieter.
“Can we go?”
He nodded immediately.
“Of course.”
And just like that—
I walked away again.
ELIAS
The corridor felt different after she left—quieter, but not calm.
The silence pressed in, heavy, like something had shifted and hadn’t settled yet.
I stayed where I was, my gaze fixed on the empty space she had disappeared into, my jaw tight, my thoughts anything but still.
She slapped Lucia.
The image replayed in my mind, sharp and clear.
Not impulsive.
Not messy.
Controlled.
Intentional.
And that was what stayed with me—not the slap itself, but the way she stood after.
Unshaken.
Certain.
Untouchable.
A quiet breath left me as I dragged a hand through my hair, irritation and something else twisting uncomfortably in my chest.
“She’s not what you expected, is she?”
I didn’t need to turn.
“Drop it.”
Lucian ignored me, of course.
“That wasn’t the Althea you used to talk about. That one wouldn’t have even raised her voice.”
“People change,” I muttered.
“Yeah,” he said lightly, studying me, “but you don’t like that she did.”
I didn’t respond, because that wasn’t entirely true—and that was the problem.
Lucian huffed a quiet laugh.
“You’re in trouble.”
“Shut up.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender and pushed off the wall.
“Alright. I’ll leave you before you start throwing punches too.” He walked off, still amused, leaving me alone with thoughts I didn’t want.
She’s not that girl anymore.
No. She wasn’t.
And for the first time, I realized just how much that changed everything.
A soft, familiar click of heels cut through the silence.
Measured.
Controlled.
I didn’t turn immediately.
“Elias.”
My shoulders stiffened slightly.
“Mother.”
I faced her then.
Mrs. Laurent stood a few steps away, composed as always, her expression calm—but her eyes were sharp, already assessing, already calculating.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said smoothly.
“I’m here.”
Her gaze flicked briefly down the corridor, the direction Althea had gone, before returning to me.
“I heard there was… a scene.”
“There was.”
Her lips pressed together, almost disapproving.
“This is exactly why I was never in support of that relationship.”
My expression hardened instantly.
“Don’t.”
She ignored that completely.
“I warned you from the beginning. That girl was never suitable for you. She doesn’t belong in this world—our world.”
Something in my chest tightened, sharp and immediate.
“She handled herself just fine.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It is to me.”
Her gaze sharpened slightly, but her tone remained smooth.
“No, the point is that situations like this—public embarrassment, lack of restraint—these things follow people who don’t understand class or structure.”
A quiet, humorless breath left me.
“You mean people who don’t let you control them.”
Her eyes flashed briefly, then smoothed over.
“As I was saying, this is why Lucia is the better option. She understands what is expected. She knows how to behave. She comes from the right background.”
I stared at her then—really stared this time—because something about this felt off.
Too certain.
Too rehearsed.
“And Althea doesn’t?” I asked slowly.
Her answer came immediately.
“No.”
Too fast.
Too final.
That’s when it hit me.
A small detail.
Something I had never questioned before.
“You’ve never met her.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
My mother stilled.
Just for a second—but I saw it.
“You don’t know her,” I continued, my voice quieter now but sharper.
“You’ve never taken the time to know her.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
“I know enough.”
“No,” I said, stepping closer, “you don’t.”
Silence stretched between us, tense and careful now.
“Father met her,” I added.
“More than once.”
She didn’t respond.
“And he never said anything like this about her.”
That landed.
I watched her closely now, catching every small shift, every flicker she tried to hide.
“And she didn’t like you either,” I went on, more to myself than to her.
“She was polite, but distant.”
My chest tightened as memories started lining up—things I had brushed off at the time, things that suddenly didn’t feel so small anymore.
I lifted my gaze fully to hers.
“Why?”
She didn’t answer.
“Why do you hate her so much?” I pressed.
“I don’t hate her,” she replied smoothly.
But this time, I heard it—the strain beneath the words.
Small.
Controlled.
But there.
Something in me went still.
Because suddenly, this wasn’t just about approval or status.
This was something else.
Something she wasn’t saying.
I took another step closer, my gaze locking onto hers.
“What did you do, mother?”
For the first time, she hesitated.
It was subtle—almost nothing—but I saw it.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her purse, her posture still perfect, but her eyes… her eyes shifted.
Just for a second.
“Nothing,” she said.
Too quickly.
Too carefully.
And in that moment, I knew.
She was lying.
But this time, it wasn’t an escape.
It was a choice.