The heavy silence of the Creed mansion was shattered by the sharp, rhythmic pounding of the police at the front door. Sebastian opened it, his brow furrowed in confusion, only to find two grim-faced officers standing on his porch.
"We are looking for Elara Langford," the lead officer stated, his hand resting on his utility belt.
Sebastian stepped back, his protective instincts flaring. "Why? She was badly injured today. She’s a victim."
"Mr. Creed, Amara Creed has filed an official report for attempted murder," the officer countered. "She claims she was the one kidnapped and assaulted under Miss Langford’s direction."
Sebastian felt a jolt of disbelief. "You seriously believe her? She’s just jealous! What do you an by attempted murder? Amara is trying to hurt Elara over a petty photo fra incident. This is nothing but slander."
Elara appeared at the top of the stairs, clutching a silk robe to her chest, her face pale. "Now, does Amara have proof?" she asked, her voice trembling perfectly. "If not, this is just a misunderstanding. She’s trying to ruin because she’s bitter."
"Exactly," Sebastian snapped, shielding Elara from their view. "This is a private family matter. Speak to my lawyer if you want to continue this harassnt. Now, get out."
The officers exchanged a long, skeptical look before nodding. "Fine. But tell your secretary that a report this serious won’t just disappear."
As the door slamd shut, Elara collapsed into Sebastian’s arms, sobbing into his chest. "Mrs. Creed is definitely mad at ... Seb, what do we do? I’m so scared she’ll try to finish what she started."
Sebastian held her tight, his jaw set in a hard line. He didn’t see the smirk Elara hid against his shoulder. "I’m sorry you’re going through this," he whispered. "I won’t let her hurt you. I’ll make sure to talk to her, she is just angry right now."
"You’re so good to ," Elara breathed, her eyes glinting with triumph. "I love you."
The phone felt like a block of ice against Amara’s ear as the officer’s voice delivered the final blow.
"Miss Piers, we spoke with Mr. Creed and Miss Langford. Without physical evidence or witnesses to place Miss Langford at the scene of the kidnapping, we can’t press charges. At this point, it’s your word against theirs. They’ve even ntioned filing a countersuit for slander. We’re sorry."
The line went dead.
Amara stared at the hospital wall, her vision blurring with a cocktail of grief and white-hot fury. No proof? She was covered in bruises, her child was gone, and the man who should have been her protector had turned into her accuser’s shield.
With trembling fingers, she dialed Sebastian’s number.
The silence in the hospital room was punctuated by the sound of the call connecting. Amara’s heart was raw, but she needed to hear his voice she needed him to be the man she once knew.
"Seb!" she cried out the mont the line picked up.
But it wasn’t Sebastian’s voice that answered. It was a low, lodic purr that made Amara’s blood run cold.
"Amara?" Elara’s voice was dripping with mock pity. "Why are you calling? Seb and I already have two kids to think about. He doesn’t care about your child anymore. Why are you calling my husband? We just... finished. He’s in the shower right now."
In the background, Amara heard the muffled sound of water and Seb’s distant voice calling out, "Elara, give the towel!"
"See?" Elara whispered into the phone, her tone sharp as a needle. "We’re a family now. Goodbye, Amara."
Amara stared at the ceiling, her phone slipping from her hand. My baby is gone, she thought, the physical void in her womb aching. And he is ho with her, playing family. Seb, did you not love at all? Was I so stupid to mistake our years together for love?
The shower stopped. Seb stepped out, drying his hands. He looked at Elara, who was quickly setting his phone back on the nightstand.
"Seb," Elara said, her voice shifting back to that sweet, helpful tone. "Seren is not a toddler anymore. You don’t have to dry her hair every night. She should learn to do it herself."
"Amara always takes care of Seren’s hair," Seb muttered, a sudden wave of discomfort washing over him. He felt out of place in his daughter’s room, an image of how Amara puts Seren to bed ca to mind. And it was the first ti in years that Amara was not ho with him. "It feels... wrong not to."
"You must be mistaken," Elara said, walking towards them on the bed. "It’s late, Seb. Let’s call it a night."
Seb nodded absently, but as he sat on the edge of the bed, about to leave, his eyes drifted to the nightstand. He frowned. "Seren... there used to be a photo of you and Amara right here."
He stood up as Seren sat on her bed, looking confused.
"That’s weird, Dad," Seren said, looking at her dresser. "The photo of and Mom was here before I went to Grandma’s. Where did it go? And my favorite dog toy is missing... the Barbie doll Mom gave , too."
"I haven’t touched anything!" Elara called out as Seb looked at her, her voice a pitch too high.
"Mommy wouldn’t ss with my stuff," Seren whispered, her lip trembling. "She loves those things."
Seb felt a cold shiver crawl up his spine. He hurried back to the master bedroom and began flinging open drawers. His wedding album is gone. The frad photo of their first anniversary is gone. Every single image that painted Amara, Seren, and Seb as a family had vanished from the walls and surfaces of the house.
"Maybe Amara just put them away?" Seb whispered to himself, his chest tightening. But he knew Amara. She treasured those photos more than her own life. She wouldn’t hide them.
He didn’t want Elara, he was only protecting her because of the baby. It was Amara he loved. It was Amara who made this house a ho. Panic, sharp and jagged, flared in his gut. Was she leaving him? Had she already left? No, this was like any other misunderstanding they have had in the past, he will fix it as long as she doesn’t find out about Elara, he told himself.
He lunged for his phone, his fingers fumbling as he dialed her number.
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