CHAPTER 144: CHAPTER-144. (TEN SECONDS).

The moment I stood in front of the grand mahogany doors, my breath got caught in my lungs. The golden emblem above the handle shimmered faintly in the afternoon sun.

The Heavens.

The name alone used to mean peace. Warmth. Safety.

I could still remember running through those halls barefoot, laughter echoing off the walls, the smell of my mother’s perfume filling the air.

My father’s voice would call me from the study, telling me to come for dinner. Back then, it was home.

Now, it felt like a fortress. One I was no longer welcome in.

Matteo stood beside me, the picture of calm indifference. Hands tucked neatly in his coat pockets, his black shades reflecting the mansion’s white façade.

Not a single crease on his face gave away a thought. He looked like he belonged here, while I felt like an intruder.

I wanted to hit him. Right across his expressionless, too-composed face, but the moment he tilted his head toward me, my body betrayed me.

I straightened instantly, as my jaw tightened, and in a blink of an eye, my hand was lifted it to the doorbell, pushing it as the sound echoed through the surrounding.

Ding-dong.

I wanted to curse myself. I wanted to run from here.

Or I could have refused to get in that car, but I didn’t. I stayed like a fool.

And now I was standing here, about to face everything I had spent a long while trying to forget.

Ten seconds. That’s all it took, but it felt like a lifetime, as the door creaked open slowly.

A woman stood there perfectly dressed in black and white uniform.

Her posture was straight, and her expression was calm.

"May I help you, sir, ma’am?" she asked, her tone being polite yet professional.

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. The words carrying my name, my purpose, everything got stuck somewhere between my chest and throat.

Before I could find them, and convey it to her, Matteo spoke. "Is Mr. and Mrs. Kingsley home?"

The maid blinked, confused, her gaze flicking between us. "Mrs. Kingsley is available, but... may I know your names, please?"

My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst through my ribs. My palms were slick. I swallowed, forcing the words out, "Tell her... that Elena has come to meet her."

The maid’s brows furrowed slightly as if she recognized me either from the family picture or the recent scandal, as disbilef was visible on her face which was then composed by same smile.

She nodded and walked back inside after she said, "Okay, please wait here for a moment."

The silence that followed pressed against me like weight.

Matteo adjusted his watch, his face still unreadable. I glared at him,"You could have warned me."

He shrugged slightly, "I did. You just didn’t listen."

God, I wanted to throw something at him.

Before I could speak again, the door opened sharply, and everything inside me froze.

My mother.

Matilda Kingsley stood there.

Even after all these years, she looked the same...graceful, polished, perfect.

Her pearl earrings caught the sunlight.

Her tailored cream dress did not have a single wrinkle, but her eyes...her eyes made me want to disappear.

She stared at me for a moment that felt too long, her gaze scanning me from head to toe.

Every crease in my blouse, every scuff on my heels, I could literally feel her judging each one.

"Elena..." A shiver ran through me as I heard her whisper my name.

Matteo leaned in slightly, whispering under his breath, "At least she did not pretend not to know you."

I shot him a glare.

"Shut up," I hissed at him in a low for only him to hear.

Before I could process anything, my mother reached forward and grabbed my wrist. Her touch was firm, her grip cold, but she pulled me inside without hesitation.

Matteo followed easily, like this was his home and not mine. His shoes clicked softly against the marble floor, echoing in the silence that had once held my childhood laughter.

The scent hit me instantly...that same serene scent, polished wood, and a faint trace of cinnamon tea.

It was all the same. The chandelier above still gleamed.

The portraits on the wall still stared down with that quiet disapproval. Even the clock ticked in the same slow rhythm.

Except... everything felt hollow.

"Bring tea, and some snacks for her," my mother ordered a passing maid.

Her voice was calm, practiced, like she had not just dragged her estranged daughter across the threshold.

I saw the same maid disappearing into the kitchen as she dragged me to the seating area.

She motioned for me to sit, and I did sit awkwardly, on the edge of the couch. Matteo stood nearby, his hands behind his back. Like a silent observer, as he was.

For a second, just a tiny, fragile second I saw something soft in her eyes. Maybe concern.

Her gaze lingered on my face, tracing it like she was checking for damage.

And I let myself believe.

Maybe she still cared.

Maybe she was still my mother.

My chest ached with hope, as I pushed out some words out of my mouth, "I... I didn’t mean to come unannounced..."

I tried to began a conversation softly with her when her voice cut through mine like a blade. "Why are you here?"

I blinked, as it took me a few seconds to process what she just asked.

"I... I just wanted to..." I tried to explain, but my voice died seeing her grim expression.

Her tone dropped lower, sharp and cold, "Do you have any idea what could happen if someone saw you here?"

I frowned as I asked, "What?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

Folding her hands on her chest, she started to scold me like a child, "The reporters, the neighbors, the board members..do you have any idea what they would say? You think I can afford another scandal after what you pulled with the Morris and their middle-class secretry?"

My heart sank. That fragile spark of hope inside me flickered once just died in that moment.