The Laurent estate was rarely surprised.
It was a fortress of schedules, security, and precision. Every guest was vetted days in advance, every arrival cataloged and cross-checked. So when the gates buzzed with the announcement of a certain unexpected visitor, it rippled like a quiet storm through the manor.
"Kieran Lockhart?" Alaric Laurent repeated, brows lifting ever so slightly. He stood at the head of the breakfast room, still dressed in his tailored navy vest, coffee forgotten in his hand.
"Yes, sir," the butler confirmed, his voice tense. "He's arrived personally. With a convoy of gifts."
Alaric exchanged a glance with Seraphina, who had stilled mid-sip of her tea.
"He knows," she whispered, the cup lowering slowly. Her eyes—usually composed and unreadable—flashed with sudden clarity. "He must have found out."
Alaric frowned. "But how? We haven't released the news yet."
"Perhaps someone from the adoption agency? A leak? Or…" She hesitated. "Maybe he has sources."
A brief silence followed as the implications settled between them.
Kieran Lockhart. The heir to the Lockhart conglomerate. The man who had grown from a childhood business prodigy into a modern-day legend—untouchable, brilliant, and terrifyingly efficient. And also… Aira's fiancé. At least on paper.
"Do you think he's here to see her?" Alaric asked quietly.
"Why else would he come in person?" Seraphina replied. "We haven't interacted since the contract was first drawn up."
She stood, smoothing down the front of her silk blouse. Despite the decades that had passed, the memory of the engagement still lingered—a legacy agreement between two of the world's most powerful families. It had been dormant, symbolic. Forgotten.
Until now.
"We should greet him," she said. "Formally. Kindly. If he's willing to move forward with the engagement now that Aira has been found…"
Alaric nodded and gestured to one of the staff. "Send someone to fetch Aira. She's likely in the garden or the north wing. Let her know we have a guest."
The butler bowed and disappeared down the hall.
"Do you think she's ready?" Seraphina asked quietly as they began walking toward the receiving hall.
"No," Alaric replied honestly. "But neither are we."
As they stepped into the grand entrance, the doors were just being opened. Sunlight spilled through the marble archways as Kieran Lockhart entered, dressed in immaculate grey, flanked by two of his secretaries—and behind them, a team carefully unloading a series of luxury gift boxes and bags.
His expression was unreadable.
Seraphina's breath caught for a moment. He had grown into a man of striking presence, his sharp gaze sweeping the hall like he already owned it. But there was something else in his eyes—a flicker of curiosity, restraint… even tension.
"Mr. Lockhart," Seraphina greeted with practiced grace. "What an unexpected honor. We didn't anticipate a visit, but we're deeply pleased."
Kieran's gaze settled on her. "Mrs. Laurent. Thank you for receiving me. I hope I'm not intruding."
Alaric stepped forward to shake his hand. "Not at all. We assume you've come regarding our daughter."
For the first time since arriving, Kieran's composure faltered.
"…Your daughter?" he echoed.
Seraphina smiled gently. "Yes. We only recently reunited with her. She'll be down shortly."
Kieran blinked.
There was a long pause.
And then, very slowly, a realization began to dawn in his eyes.
Oh.
Oh no.