The afternoon sun was warm, almost pleasant, and a calmness settled over me.
My girl and our child were safe.
That was all that mattered.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I drawled, taking a slow, deliberate look at her.
She was a mess. No false nails. Makeup barely there. Clothes dishevelled. Still wearing designer heels, though—because she would rather die than let go of the illusion.
“You married her? A child? My child?” she spat, shaking her fist in the air like a caricature.
Her face twisted into something ugly—finally matching what had always been inside her.
“I should thank you for having her,” I said with a pleasant smile. “One of the only useful things you managed in life.”
Her eyes widened. For a moment, she looked winded.
“Silas, I’ve changed,” she insisted, taking a breath that trembled at the edges. “I’m a woman now. I can give you what you need.”
I blinked.
Was she serious?
Was she actually standing on my property, in front of my home, telling me she could give me what I needed?
“I suggest you find another mark,” I snarled, letting a sliver of my fury bleed through. “I’m done with you, Eris. I love Everly—and the child she’s carrying.”
“No,” she whispered. “She’s pregnant?”
I let a slow, mocking smile curl at the corner of my mouth.
“I told you last time you stormed into my home. Everly is young, fertile, and loyal. Everything you never managed to be. She’s my future.”
Her face tightened. She laughed—sharp, brittle, almost hysterical.
“She’ll do the same, you know,” she sneered. “How long before she gets bored? How long before she looks elsewhere?”
“Do you want to keep going, Eris?” I asked, letting boredom bleed into every syllable. “Because I can have you locked up for the embezzlement you think I don’t know about. I can make you pay back every penny you stole from her trust fund.”
I took a step closer, lowering my voice.
“If you think your life is bad now… just wait. You haven’t seen what I’m capable of.”
Fear made her stumble back.
The light went out of her eyes all at once, like someone had blown out a candle. She closed them, defeated—because she understood.
There was no denial or arguing with me. She knew I had the resources and the evidence to bury her.
“If you ever attempt to approach my wife again,” I said, already turning away, “I will end you.”
Her tears started immediately, escalating into real, unfiltered sobs. Reality had finally caught up to her.
I stepped inside my home and shut the door behind me, sealing her out of my world for good. Then I took out my phone and texted.
Lawrence:Drop her at the nearest public transport stop.
Problem solved.
