Chapter 14
Ephraim walked closer. The air shifted between us. He wasn’t touching me, but I felt it, like something ancient and angry wrapped in human skin.
“Good,” he said. “I don’t need a flower. I need a blade.”
I stared at him, my throat tightening. “Then why me?”
He tilted his head. “Because you know how it feels to lose everything. And you didn’t die. That makes you dangerous.”
I wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or a warning.
But I nodded anyway.
And I whispered, “I didn’t come here to be saved. I came here to burn.”
**
Our families hosted a private dinner that felt more like a masquerade. Everyone wore jewels and smiles but spoke in whispers behind tall glasses and finer linen. The Calderons and Lamberts sat at the long table as if the years hadn’t bled and broken us, as if this alliance wasn’t being stitched back together with bruises and dead children between the
cracks.
I sat beside Ephraim. My hands were cold and tucked neatly on my lap. I hadn’t touched the food. The knife looked too familiar and the wine reminded me too much of blood.
I heard them before I saw them. Guests. Distant cousins and board members and heiresses too pretty for their own good. The room buzzed with murmurs like moth wings against glass.
“Isn’t that her? That’s Therese, right?”
“The ex–wife of Torren Massaro?”
“I didn’t know she was a Calderon. A real one.‘
“Wait–are you serious? Like the daughter of that Duke Calderon?”
“If Torren knew, he wouldn’t have thrown her out like trash in public. She’s old money. Royal blood, for God’s sake.”
“He threw away a diamond while chasing a rock. What a fool.”
“But look at her. She doesn’t even look alive. Pale as chalk. Thin like she hasn’t eaten in
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days. And her eyes…”
“Yeah. Like shattered glass. Can’t be put back together.”
I didn’t flinch. Not once.
Ephraim noticed. He leaned in and whispered, “They’re loud tonight.”
“They always are,” I said without turning. “They just think pain makes us deaf.”
He gave a quiet laugh, low and sharp. “Still got that bite, I see.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat was tight again, like it always got when they mentioned Torren.
Then Ephraim stood and lifted my hand, and every eye in the room turned toward us like we were puppets on strings. He kissed the back of my hand, slow and deliberate. The room hushed.
He leaned close to my ear and said, “This time, don’t run from me.”
I looked at him. At the boy who once held my hand in secret gardens but I still chose Torren. Now a man with ice in his veins and war in his eyes.
“I didn’t run,” I whispered back. “I was thrown.”
His grip tightened slightly. Not cruel. Just a reminder.
“And now?” he asked.
“Now I walk on my own,” I said. “And if I walk beside you, Ephraim, it won’t be for love.”
He looked at me for a long moment. Then nodded once. “Good.”
The guests clapped politely as we sat down again. They thought they were watching a love story. A second chance. But I wasn’t here for fairy tales.
I was here to rewrite the ending.
**
RUBY’S POV
I was scrolling with my newly bought iPhone Pro Max when I saw her name again. Her face popped up like a cockroach that refused to die. Therese Calderon. Engaged. To Ephraim Lambert. The headline blinked at me like it was proud of itself.
I almost dropped my wineglass. Almost. Instead, I threw it at the TV. The sound of glass shattering felt good. Therapeutic. Jude jumped from the couch and looked at me with those wide little eyes.
“Mommy,” he said, pointing at the screen, “isn’t that… her?”
I smiled like a saint. “Who, baby?”
He tilted his head. “That lady. The one Daddy used to be married to. The one who cried all the time.”
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I walked over and turned the volume down. “Yes. That’s her. She’s getting married again.”
“To that man in the suit?”
“Yes. His name is Ephraim Lambert. He’s rich. Comes from a scary family. You don’t need to worry about him.”
Jude climbed back on the couch and looked at the TV again. “So… is she gonna be a queen now, Mommy?”
I forced a smile. I sat beside him and tucked a blanket over his lap and touched his soft little cheek.
“She can be whatever title she wants,” I said sweetly. “But she already lost what matters. She lost her son, remember? Cleo. And she lost your Daddy. And now she has nothing but shiny rings and sad eyes. That’s not winning. That’s pretending.”
Jude giggled like it was funny and went back to playing with his toy truck.
I stood up slowly and walked toward the kitchen, phone in hand. I opened a secure chat and typed fast with my thumb while pretending to check on the food.
“I want a full background check on Ephraim Lambert. Every crack. Every scandal. Everything that can break a man like him. Also find out about Therese. I mean really find out. Calderon, that name feels familiar. What kind of Calderon is she? What bloodline does she carry? Who the hell did I just go to war with?”
I hit send and leaned against the counter. I could still hear Jude making car noises in the background. And I smiled. Because war wasn’t over. It hadn’t even started yet.
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