CHAPTER 192: A CRIME SCENE

At Ivory Towers

The sun had set below the horizon. The sky was dark with heavy clouds that promised first snow of the year while casting deep shadows across the city below.

Inside, Martha worked with the helpers to quickly clean up the living hall, erasing all traces that afternoon tea had ever been held there.

In front of the gym room, Giselle crossed her arms, standing beside Alaric as Aveline stretched and helped Elara warm up. They couldn’t hear what Aveline spoke, but Elara started doing simple ballet moves she had learned, and Aveline copied her effortlessly.

Elara tried to twirl on one leg for a fouetté turn but stumbled. Aveline softly explained the technique as she executed a perfect fouetté, whipping her raised leg to the side.

"Aunt Aveline, you are so good at this," Elara exclaimed, her eyes twinkling as she looked at Aveline. Then she demanded, "Do it again, once more, once more..."

Giselle smiled, watching Aveline’s silhouette gracefully executing multiple fouettés, and mused, "She is beautiful." Though Aveline was wearing the simplest blush dress with tights to dance, the way her lissom frame carried it was captivating, even to another woman.

Alaric simply watched Aveline’s movements, slow and deliberate. He realized that ballet was the secret behind her natural grace. She looked so delicate, like a porcelain doll with her soft expression, that dress hugging her curves perfectly.

If only the others weren’t there, he would have pinned her against the mirror wall and kissed her like there was no tomorrow.

Giselle turned to him when she didn’t get a response. He was completely enamored. How could she blame him when she couldn’t easily look away either?

Nevertheless, she tugged him aside for a conversation, ignoring his death glare. "Mom told me about what happened last week. Do you think the Astors will stay quiet?"

Alaric wanted to go back to watch Aveline, but his expression turned cold upon hearing Giselle’s question. Nobody was ready to believe the Astors could remain quiet. "I’m tracking them every day. They’re staying in their houses, meeting no one."

They initially thought it could be to avoid the media, but the media had stopped going to their place, focusing instead on the next interim president.

Alaric glanced toward the gym when he heard Aveline’s laughter. He was glad she could find some ease with Elara.

He continued, "That’s even more suspicious." It was as if they were waiting for him to drop his guard before they struck.

Giselle had another doubt. "Nicholas would have killed someone to get into your penthouse. His absence is making me question my sanity." She sighed. She would rather take on more cases than worry about family issues.

This was exactly why Alaric kept her away from such matters.

Nicholas!? Even Alaric was suspicious of him. What was he up to besides trying to steal his second project?

But none of them bothered Alaric as much as his worry about Aveline.

Giselle shuddered faintly as she adjusted her coat. "Sometimes I feel Seraphina’s presence even when she’s not here," she muttered under her breath, unsettled by how Seraphina had been studying and observing them the whole evening like it was a crime scene.

....

At Lancaster Mansion

The night air carried no warmth into the bedroom. Seraphina stood before her vanity, slipping the straps of her nightgown down her shoulders. The silk clung to her skin, but the anticipation in her eyes wasn’t desire for her husband, it was pure calculation.

She had studied her calendar, and tonight mattered if she wanted to succeed in her plans.

Nicholas entered the bedroom late, the faint scent of liquor trailing after him. He went to their closet and moved to his wardrobe without sparing her a glance.

"You’re late again," she remarked sharply, crossing the room. "Do you even remember what today is?" she asked pointedly.

Nicholas didn’t answer while he pulled off his jacket without facing her. He had been out with his friends, partied half the day, and was exhausted. He just wanted to hit the bed.

Seraphina’s voice rose at his silence. "It’s my ovulation day, Nick. If we want a child, we can’t keep delaying this." She was frustrated that he hadn’t laid a finger on her for a week. Before this, he had always waited for her on the bed.

Finally, he turned, his expression masking his frustration. "I’ve had a long day. Not tonight." He was neither in the mood nor had the energy.

"Not tonight?" she snapped, gripping his arm. "You’re avoiding me, Nicholas Lancaster." Her voice was sharper than a knife. "Always working late, always drinking. Do you expect me not to notice? Or do you already have someone else filling your bed?" The last question slipped from her tongue without thinking.

He peeled her hand off his arm, irritation flashing across his face. "Don’t start, Seraphina." He didn’t yell at her, he held back as much as he could and tried to leave.

She blocked his path. "Then give me a reason. Because I won’t wait endlessly for you to decide when I’m worth touching. You wanted me here as your wife, your ally, and now you won’t even give me a child?"

Nicholas’s jaw tightened at how righteous she sounded. "You want a child because you think it will chain the Lancasters to you. Don’t delude yourself, Seraphina."

Isabella and Edward would love their grandchild, but they weren’t foolish enough to believe her so easily.

The sting of his words cut deeper than she would ever admit. He pushed past her, grabbing his jacket as he strode toward the guest room.

He did hate Alaric because Alaric had stolen their father’s attention. Maybe because he was mocked for having a blue-blood stepbrother, the son of his father’s love.

However, he knew when to stop. And Seraphina was going beyond control. She was so obsessed with destroying Alaric and Aveline that she wasn’t seeing how terrifying she was becoming, how she wasn’t just ruining herself, but their relationship by trying to boss him around.

He had his father to boss him around in the company. He didn’t want another person dictating to him.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone in the silence.

Seraphina trembled, fists curling until her nails dug into her palms, forming crescents. Anger flared in her eyes. "Why?" she whispered to her reflection, bitterness coating her voice.

She had thought she and Nicholas were alike, a perfect team. But she felt so wrong.

"Why does Aveline Laurent hold Alaric so completely, when I can’t even make Nicholas stay in the same bed?"

Her fury simmered, hatred twisting her features as she vowed not to lose again.

....

At Ivory Towers

Aveline stood near the glass wall, her breath catching at the sight of delicate white flakes descending against the dark city skyline. She blinked in a daze, watching the snow floating silently and unhurriedly over the city.

Warmth wrapped around her shoulders. Aveline was startled for less than a second, then relaxed as Alaric draped a soft throw over her and pulled her back against him. His arms wrapped firmly around her waist, his chin brushing her hair.

"You’ll catch a cold," he murmured, though his voice carried more affection than concern.

She tilted her head slightly, offering him a smile. "It’s beautiful from up here."

His gaze didn’t leave her when he responded. "It is." With Elara around until dinner, Aveline had been much more at ease and light.

Aveline sensed the weight of his eyes, the way he wasn’t speaking about the snow. Her cheeks warmed as she tried to look back at the view, but his hand cupped her face.

Alaric dipped his head. "You don’t always have to carry the silence alone," he whispered against her ear, low enough to be only for her.

Her throat tightened. She wanted to respond, yet the words refused to come. Instead, she turned in his arms, her lashes fluttering when their faces hovered close.

The kiss came gently and unhurried. His lips pressed to hers with the same tenderness as the snowfall outside, drawing her into the warmth of his embrace. She leaned into it, surrendering to the quietness of the night and the intimacy that dulled her remaining restlessness.

When he deepened the kiss, it wasn’t hunger but affection, a steady reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he wasn’t leaving her in the storm, that she wouldn’t be alone no matter how difficult it might be.

His hand slipped behind her head, cradling her as he broke the kiss to murmur, "Stop me if you want, Sunshine."

Her smile softened, faint but real. She let him lead her away from the glass, from the storm and the ghosts in her mind, into her safe haven, into his arms.

As he guided her to the bed, she reached up to touch his face when he moved over her, looking into his green eyes with tenderness. Her eyes fluttered closed when he dipped his head and kissed her again. It was slow yet passionate, quiet but reassuring.

His touch was steady, adoring her, never demanding, just tracing her curves as though memorizing her in the silence. Each touch spoke of promises he couldn’t voice, of protection he would always offer.

Aveline’s heart slowed, her worries loosening with each brush of his hand, until all that remained was warmth, his presence anchoring her more deeply than words ever could.

The snow kept falling outside, but in his embrace, she found a warmth that nobody else could touch.