The Thorne Boardroom's doors didn't just open—they crashed back against the walls. Boom. Two guards in black suits moved aside, and Killian Thorne strode in like the room belonged to him.
"You can't come in, Mr. Thorne! The board is voting in private!" a secretary shouted down the hall. Fear shook her voice.
Killian didn't even slow down. He marched right in, holding Elara's hand tight, not yanking her along, but clutching her like she was the only thing keeping him upright. Cameras flashed in the hallway behind them—so many it looked like a lightning storm.
"The vote is over!" Killian's voice blasted through the room. The glasses on the table rattled.
Twelve board members—old and rich—sat around a table that probably cost more than Elara's whole life. They stared at him, shocked and pale. These were his partners, his judges, and they were ready to kick him out.
"I'm not a bad father," Killian said, scanning their faces like a wolf sniffing for weakness. "And I'm not a liar. My wife and daughter have been under my protection. I kept them hidden because I have enemies who would hurt them."
Elara felt the board's eyes on her, sharp and cold, like she was a bug under glass. She was wearing a dress so expensive it made her skin itch—a deep red silk that slipped over her like water. Her hair was styled to perfection, covering the bruise on her shoulder from last night's fight. On the outside, she looked like royalty. Inside, she was just a mother, ready to claw through everyone in the room if she had to protect her kids.
"Wife?" Marcus Vane stood at the end of the table. Killian's biggest rival, and honestly, a snake. He flashed a thin, nasty smile. "The news says she's just a maid you dragged up from the basement, Killian. They say the girl's a secret you hid because you were ashamed of her mother. Now you expect us to believe this…poor woman is the real mother of the Thorne heirs?"
Killian stepped forward, dragging Elara with him. The air in the room felt electric, like a storm was about to break.
"She's the only woman I've ever loved," Killian said. He turned to Elara, and for a split second, his eyes burned with something raw and desperate. "Tell them, honey. Tell them why we kept our family in the dark."
This was it—the moment everything would change. Elara knew if she spoke now, she was sealing her fate. No more quiet life, no more hiding in the shadows. She'd be famous, hunted, and tied to Killian forever.
She thought about Maya and Leo, safe in a hidden room with guards outside the door. She remembered the five years she spent grieving her son. Enough. She straightened her back and made her voice steady.
"We didn't hide Maya because we were ashamed," Elara said, locking eyes with Marcus Vane. "We hid her because we knew people like you would use a little girl to steal power. Killian didn't hide his child—he protected her from the snakes in this room. And if any of you doubt I'm his wife, the marriage papers we signed this morning are in the office down the hall."
A sharp gasp rippled around the table. Killian squeezed her hand, surprised and—finally—respectful. She hadn't just stuck to the script. She'd turned the whole room upside down.
"Papers can be faked," Marcus spat, red-faced and furious. "The public wants proof of love, Killian. Not just your signature on a piece of paper."
"Proof?" Killian's eyes flicked to Elara.
Before she could react, his hand was on the back of her neck, fingers tangled in her hair. He pulled her close and kissed her—hard, deep, no apology. It wasn't for the cameras. It was five years of anger, longing, and everything they'd buried, all in one kiss. Elara's heart stuttered. She wanted to shove him away, but her hands clenched his shirt instead. She kissed him back. Whatever they'd been running from, it was out in the open now.
The room froze. Even Marcus Vane couldn't come up with a comeback. Killian broke the kiss and let his forehead rest against hers, breathing hard.
"Is that enough proof for you?" Killian whispered, but he only saw Elara.
The board members murmured to each other, then settled back into their seats. The plan worked. Killian kept his throne. Elara's children were safe, at least for now. But the price—they both felt it.
And when the doors closed behind them and they stepped into the elevator, the whole "happy couple" thing dropped away. Killian let go of her hand like her skin stung him. He leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes.
"You were good out there," he said, voice scraping with exhaustion. "Too good."
"I did it for my kids," Elara said. She fought to keep her voice steady, but her lips still remembered his. "But don't get it twisted, Killian. That kiss doesn't erase what you did. You forced me into this. You never trusted me."
"I trust you now," he said, almost too quiet to hear. He opened his eyes—pain written all over his face. "That's the problem. I trust you. I just don't trust the people I let into our lives when I made this marriage public."
The elevator doors slid open at the top floor. The living room wasn't empty. Security guards filled the space, tense and alert. Leo and Maya stood by the big window, staring out at the city.
"What happened?" Elara rushed to her kids.
"A box arrived," the head guard said, nodding toward a small black box on the table. "Someone got past the main gate. It has your name on it, Mrs. Thorne."
Elara walked right over. Killian tried to grab her arm, but she was faster. She flipped open the lid.
No bomb inside. Just an old, yellowed piece of paper. Elara's heart squeezed tight—she recognized the handwriting instantly. Her own. It was a letter she'd written to the "Anonymous Father" five years ago, back when she was pregnant. They told her those letters burned up in a fire at the clinic.
But someone had scrawled a new message on the back, a threat in bright red ink:
I KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT THE FIRE. I KNOW WHO REALLY TOOK THE TWINS. ASK KILLIAN WHAT HE DID FIVE YEARS AGO AT MIDNIGHT.
The whole room spun. Elara looked at Killian, her hand trembling with the letter. "Killian... the fire at the clinic. You told me you didn't know how it started. You told me you were looking for me."
Killian stared at the letter. For the first time, fear stripped away every bit of his power. He didn't look like some invincible billionaire. He looked like a man about to be destroyed by his own secret.
"Elara, let me explain," he said, reaching for her.
"Did you do it?" Her voice cracked. "Did you burn the clinic to hide the truth about the twins? Did you leave me there to die?"
Everything was coming apart. The man she'd just kissed, the man she was starting to believe in—he might have tried to kill her.
Suddenly Maya gasped. "Mommy! Look! The bad man from the party! He's in the garden!"
Elara ran to the window. Down by the fountain, a man stood in the shadows, staring up at them. The same kidnapper from the gala—out of jail, free, and holding a remote control.
Killian grabbed his phone, but it was dead. The penthouse lights started flickering, then went dark.
"The security system's been hacked!" Killian yelled. He pulled Elara and the kids close. "We have to get to the safe room. Now!"
They sprinted through the hallway, shadows chasing them. Elara's mind raced—she'd married Killian and walked straight into a trap. She was bound to a man who could be her hero, or her worst nightmare.
They reached the safe room—a heavy steel door. But the lock glowed red. No way in. They were stuck. Somewhere behind them, glass shattered.
Killian stepped in front, arms out to shield Elara and the twins. He glanced back at her, eyes full of dark confession.
"I didn't burn the clinic to hide the twins, Elara," he whispered, footsteps closing in. "I burned it to keep you alive. They were coming for you next."
He turned to face the hallway, fists clenched, as men with guns rounded the corner.
"Elara, if we don't get out of this…" His voice was rough and desperate.
"Who was really running that clinic, and why is your name on the list of owners?"