Elara's POV,
"No." His voice is cold. "You'll sign because you have no choice. You're going to die, Solis."
I laugh, and it's loud, cracked, and ugly. "How cute."
His voice drops. "You will die, once my enemies find out… and our son becomes a bargaining chip."
My blood turns cold.
"They won't..." I whisper because I know they won't. I've been hiding longer than he'd ever imagined.
"My mother will raise him. My enemies will want him. My world—" He stops short.
He doesn't want me to know, except I already do. His world will devour Asher alive.
"You're the only reason he's still just a child," he finishes quietly.
Silence crashes down as the truth hits me like a blade between the ribs.
I've been cornered again, just like in the Virelli mansion. I grit my teeth.
"Fuck you!" I say loudly. "Fuck your idea of protecting him! I've been doing it for five years, I'll continue doing it!"
"No, you won't. I'm taking my son, whether you like it or not."
"Our son!" I scream. "For some twisted reason that the gods find funny, he's our son!"
I twist and jerk my body upward with the last of my strength to grab his collar.
"If I'm doing this, we're doing my way. Add a clause," I snarl. "I'm his legal guardian. I continue school. And no bodyguard bullshit."
His hand closes around mine, and he smiles cruelly.
"A done deal, Solis."
And just like that, I sign my soul to the devil.
~ ~
The first person I meet in the Kòrvac household is Isolde, Lucien's younger sister.
When I stand at the foot of the stairs, she looks at me like I'm something she stepped on by accident. Her eyes rake over me, slow, dismissive, and cruel, and she doesn't even bother hiding it.
No greeting, no courtesy. Just open contempt.
But I don't even care. As long as she didn't do shit to Asher, she was safe.
For the past three long weeks since I signed that contract and agreed to co-parent with Lucien, I've stopped caring about a lot of things.
I waited a week before telling my friends. I told them my boss took an interest in me, and that it turned into an engagement. I even had to tell them "the bitter truth." Asher was Lucien's son. I had a one night stand with him after my husband died so it cleared any doubts of why Asher looked like Lucien.
God, I hated the way they were all happy for me. Carla even blessed us with tears in her eyes, and guilt pricked at me, but I buried it.
Lies are easier than the truth. Lies keep people alive.
I move with Asher into the Kòrvac mansion. It's massive and beautiful.
And I'm a ghost in it.
Asher, of course, is thrilled. He clings to Lucien like he's a god. He laughs more, smiles wider, and spends every waking moment with his father.
I tell myself I'm happy for him, but the bitterness still settles in my chest like rot.
I hate Lucien with a passion I don't bother hiding. And Lucien barely acknowledges my existence. We share a house, a child, a contract… and nothing else.
One afternoon, I sit alone in my room, staring at my open laptop.
I can't even remember the last time I did something reckless. Something me. I feel boxed in, watched, and trapped.
And it's not just a feeling. Even when I asked that I have no bodyguards, I was still watched closely. I don't blame him. Of course, he doesn't trust the woman that hid his son right under his nose.
I scoff and look to see my screen flicker.
Right, a breach attempt. I knew it'd only be a matter of time before he starts trying to get into my personal space.
I blink once, then scoff.
Amateur.
I shut the break through my firewall down in seconds, sealing every door. But when I scan deeper, my smile fades.
I was a second too late.
The virus already chewed off a sliver of information.
Annoyed now, I trace the signal. It doesn't lead outside the mansion but inside.
Perfect. Lucky for the person, it'd be a quick death. I grab a table knife from the bed side, follow the trail down the hall, and stop at an open door.
I pause when I see it's Isolde.
She's hunched over a computer, fingers flying, and jaw clenched. Then, she slams her palm against the desk in frustration.
"After hours," she mutters, "she still manages to block me out?"
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed and knife rotating on my palm.
Ah, soit's you, you little bitch.
And just like that, something sharp and alive curls inside my chest.
Finally. I grin. Alittle fun.
I step into the room just as Isolde slams her hand on the desk again, frustration radiating off her in waves. The screen in front of her is frozen. How sweet, I know it's my work.
I smile.
"Careful," I say lightly. "If you hit it any harder, it might actually cooperate out of pity."
She whirls around, and our eyes lock.
Something shifts in her expression. It's not fear, but recognition. The kind people get when they realize they've underestimated the wrong person.
"How are you the viper?" she asks slowly and I raise a brow.
"I earned it."
I push myself off the doorframe and walk in like I own the room. Which, since I'm getting married to her brother, I do.
"So you tried to crawl into my system," I continue. "You're clever, but sloppy. You left fingerprints everywhere."
Her eyes flicker to the knife I held in my hand and her jaw tightens. "At least, I broke into your firewall."
So brave. I snarl softly and walk till I stood on front of her. If I killed Lucien's precious sister, what would he do? Will he spare me for the sake of Asher...or not?
"No," I correct. "I let you hit it."
Silence. She's still looking at the knife in my hand.
"You're staring at it like it's the threat here." Her eyes slowly meet mine and I smile. "It's not."
She stills in her chair and looks up at the web camera facing us. I laugh once, and place the knife beside her laptop. Then I slide it closer to her with one finger.
"Relax," I say, smiling as gently as I could. "If I wanted to hurt you, you wouldn't be sitting still."
Then I turn to leave.
"Elara."
I pause in my tracks.
"I know who you are," Isolde says. "You're a Virelli
The word lands like a slap and slowly, I turn back.
I step toward her in one smooth movement and tilt my head. "Say that again."
"I won't," she says lightly, standing up. "But I could say it to Lucien."
The thought flashes through me.
Snap her neck. Push her down the stairs. Use the knife and erase the footage. Make it look like an accident.
My fingers twitch, but then… I stop.
Why the fuck was I running again? All my life, that's what I'd been doing. Hiding and surviving.
Why must I be scared?
So, I cross the room and sit down heavily on the chair opposite her.
"You want the truth?" I ask flatly. "Then listen."
"I was born a mistake. A maid's child. Illegitimate. Untouchable, but never protected."
I swallow hard, remembering. "They beat me, starved me and used me."
She doesn't interrupt but sits down.
"I slept with your brother without knowing who he was. I ran, I survived and I built a life from scraps. Like I said earlier, everything I have… I earned it.
When I'm done, my throat burns, and I stand.
"Believe me," I say. "Or don't. That's your choice."
I turn to leave, and her hand grabs my wrist.
"I was wrong," Isolde says quietly. "I thought you were a gold digger or someone trying to trap my brother for his money."
I let out a humorless laugh. "If I wanted his money, I'd have emptied his accounts and disappeared by now."
She laughs nervously. "I know. And I won't tell anyone, I swear."
I study her face, then say. "I want to leave this place. Promise me you'll help and in return, I'll teach you things your brother's security team would cry over."
Her eyes light up.
"Deal."
I walk out without looking back. In the hallway, I stop and lift my gaze to the high ceiling.
I have leverage, an ally.
A stronghold inside the Kòrvac household.
I smile to myself.
"I won't back down easily," I whisper. "Lucien Kòrvac."
~ ~
I try everything.
Wigs, glasses, and even borrowed clothes from the maids. I fake grocery runs and doctor appointments that don't exist.
Even charity visits in Lucien's name…ironic, really. I always lied to Asher that we were going out to have fun or on a short trip. But every time, they find us.
I know they do because I always see them. It's either a car appearing at the end of the street or a familiar face in a crowd.
A quiet reminder that I am never alone.
Lucien's men are good.
Too good.
It makes my skin crawl.
I hate the way my world has shrunk to corridors and cameras. I hate the way my phone always has a signal, the way my car sits in garage because I wasn't trusted to go anywhere with my car, the way the gates open only when I'm allowed.
Isolde helps where she can. She reroutes cameras for minutes at a time, delays reports and deletes small flags.
But even she can't blind the whole house. Or, her damned brother.
"It's like you're fighting a hydra," she told me once. "Cut one head, three more frow."
She couldn't be more correct but that doesn't stop me from trying.
Because staying feels like surrender and because every time I see Asher laughing in Lucien's arms, a part of me aches with guilt, and another part burns with fear.
What if he grows up thinking cages like this are normal?
What if he learns that love looks like control?
I won't let that happen.
So I plan again for the last time.
A smaller bag this time, just essentials, passports, and cash, and I have a route I've tested twice. An exit window measured down to the second.
This time, I almost made it.
Almost.
It's the middle of the night, and that's when Lucien catches me leaving the front door.
I'm dragging Asher's suitcase with him strolling sleepily behind me (I'd told him I was taking him to a surprise party), which I was…all the way in Canada, and I'm certain they wouldn't catch me because I'd blocked the CCTV cameras from recording. Until…
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"