Holden and I didn’t talk on the way home. I really didn’t like him for some reason, probably because he reminded me so much of Levi. The same calculating eyes, infuriating politeness; he was a sly asshole.

My own hands were clenched into fists in my lap, and I could feel a tremor running through my fingers. The thought of Levi, in our home, potentially putting pressure on a pregnant woman, filled me with cold dread. The infuriatingly polite Holden opened my door. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the car, the late afternoon sun doing little to warm the knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.

They weren’t in the living room. What? I strained my ears, glancing towards the second floor, but no voices drifted down. Not in Levi's study either. My feet moved almost of their own accord, carrying me through the doors and into the manicured backyard.

And there they were. Three chairs arranged around the coffee table on the sprawling lawn. Levi, occupied one, his posture radiating an unsettling calm. In the other sat Lady Elira. Among the sharp angles of the other noblewomen I'd encountered—Julia, Isolde, even the formidable Cybil—Lady Elira possessed a disarmingly soft appearance. Her face was round and open, framed by gentle waves of brown hair that cascaded around kind, brown eyes. Her cheeks held a natural fullness, giving her an air of vulnerability that tugged at my heart. Oh, God. Out of all the women, this woman had the misfortune of carrying his child.

I hurried towards the coffee table. I offered a small, hopefully reassuring nod. "Good afternoon, Lady Elira," I said, my voice intentionally gentle. "I am Raphael. Pleased to meet you."

Levi began, his gaze fixed on her with an expression of wounded innocence, "I have been telling Lady Elira what a terribly cruel husband I have."

Lady Elira offered a soft smile in my direction. "Please, Sir Blake," she interjected gently, her voice surprisingly steady. "Sir Raphael was just being polite to your guest.”

Oh, God. God. Why was this kind and gentle woman caught in his schemes?

I took the remaining empty chair, positioning myself to face both Lady Elira and Levi, a silent declaration of my presence and intent. Levi dropped his wounded act and began talking. “Lady Elira, your kindness is noted, but since all three of us are here, let us discuss the more pressing matters.”

Damn, down to business again. Lady Elira, to her credit, maintained her composure, her gentle gaze shifting from Levi to me, a hint of apprehension now flickering in her brown eyes.

“I would like to apologize, Sir Blake. I didn’t know that… it belonged to you.”

Before I could respond, Levi smoothly interjected, his tone gentle but firm. "Lady Elira, while I always wish to give the benefit of the doubt, I must ask, does it truly matter now?"

I frowned, unsure of where he was leading this.

Lady Elira's gaze lifted, her brown eyes meeting his with a surprising intensity. "Sir Blake, please listen to me. There hasn't been a woman pregnant in our household for over twenty-five years. This... this is my last chance to keep my family alive."

She wasn’t going to abort the baby. Oh, no.

"Lady Elira," he stated flatly, his gaze unwavering, "it is precisely what I do not want."

"Sir Blake," Lady Elira pleaded, her voice trembling slightly but filled with a raw desperation, "I assure you, I will never, ever knock on your door in the future for you to be a parent, or for anything else. Please..." Her voice trailed off.

"Dear Lady Elira, your assurances are noted. However, my desires in this matter supersede your own, wouldn't you agree? After all, the circumstances of this... creation were hardly consensual on my part." Levi said while his fake smile didn’t reach his eyes. Well, how are you going to argue with that?

Lady Elira's composure wavered for the first time. Her breath hitched, and the color seemed to drain slightly from her face. Her brown eyes darted between Levi and me. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. She swallowed hard, her gaze returning to Levi, a desperate plea etched in her expression.

"Sir Levi," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "with all due respect... my family... my house... it will cease to exist without an heir. Surely, the continuation of a lineage, even... even under these circumstances..."

Levi leaned back in his chair, a picture of cold, righteous indignation. "It seems, Lady Elira, you were unaware of the precise circumstances I was in. So let me remind you, kindly, that my sperm was stolen from me as a minor, while I was unconscious. This fact only came to light a mere three weeks ago, so you must imagine my utter disdain for this entire situation." He gestured vaguely towards her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Your family's potential demise hardly outweighs the violation I have suffered. Do try to maintain some perspective."

Lady Elira's voice was soft but firm, her gaze direct and earnest. "Sir Levi, I understand the gravity of what happened to you. Truly, I do. But please believe me, I had no knowledge of those circumstances. My actions were driven by the desperate need to secure my family's future, a future I now realize was built upon an unforeseen and terrible injustice against you. I can only offer my sincerest apologies for my unwitting role in this."

"While I appreciate the sentiment, Lady Elira," Levi said, his tone shifting slightly, losing some of its icy edge, "apologies do not resolve practicalities. We are still left with a situation that is unacceptable to me. Perhaps instead of dwelling on the past, we should focus on finding a... mutually agreeable solution to the present predicament. Though, I confess," he paused, his gaze sweeping between Lady Elira and me, "I struggle to see what that might be."

"Sir Levi, with all sincerity, the 'mutually agreeable solution' for me is the continuation of this pregnancy. I have offered my solemn vow that you will never be burdened by any parental responsibility. What other resolution could there be that addresses both the injustice done to you and the survival of my house?"

Her words were a direct and heartfelt appeal, laying bare her desperate need while reiterating her promise to leave him unencumbered. It was a gamble, a hope that his newfound pragmatism might outweigh his personal disdain. The afternoon sun seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Levi's response.

"Lady Elira," he continued, his gaze unwavering, "I believe we only briefly met before. It seems that my image as the Saint of Ascaria lulled you into a false sense of security, or perhaps a naive belief that I would simply allow you to walk out of my house without an abortion being arranged. Please understand, Lady Elira, I am not the benevolent figure the public perceives. I am a man who takes what he deems necessary."

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting. "Let us be clear. We both know what I want. Please do not concern yourself with the ramifications of your miscarriage. Although the initial decision was purely my mother's, I assure you, I will take care of the aftermath. Consider it a kindness."

Okay, Raphael, do something to chill the lion down or she is going to scream. Lady Elira's breath hitched, and I saw a tremor run through her hands. I had to intervene, and fast, before this escalated into outright terror.

I leaned slightly towards Levi, lowering my voice to a near whisper, though I ensured Lady Elira could still hear my words of support. "Levi," I said, my tone urgent but controlled, "calm down. She is also a victim here. You've made your position clear. There's no need to... frighten her."

His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint replacing the earlier facade of polite disdain. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper that only I could hear. "Do you wish to see frightened, Pulla?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

My own voice was barely audible as I replied, my gaze fixed on his, trying to project a semblance of calm I didn't feel. "No, I don't at all."

"Lady Elira," he stated, his gaze unwavering, "give me one good reason, just one, why I shouldn't simply instruct Holden to administer a mild compound right here, right now, to induce a perfectly safe and unremarkable miscarriage."

"Please..." she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Please, Sir Levi... I beg you... don't do this. My family... it's all I have left. I promise... you will never hear from me again. I will leave Ascaria... I will go anywhere... just please... don't." Her hands instinctively went to her abdomen.

Levi's voice remained cold and unwavering, cutting through Lady Elira's desperate pleas like a shard of ice. "Lady Elira," he stated, his tone laced with a cruel rationality, "you cannot simply leave Ascaria. You cannot even leave your own lands without significant consequence, bound as you are by your noble blood and its obligations. What makes you think your greedy father, your proud mother, would offer you any support in such a reckless endeavor? They would see it as a scandal, a stain on their lineage, and would likely drag you back themselves." He paused, letting his words sink in. "Your options are far more limited than you seem to believe."

"Levi," I interjected, trying to keep my voice level despite the rising anger within me, "can you just... calm down? She is already distressed. There's no need to..."

Levi turned his gaze on me, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. "Raphael," he retorted, "she is distressed precisely because she knows I am right. Her desperate pleas are merely a delaying tactic, an attempt to avoid the inevitable. The sooner she accepts the reality of the situation, the sooner this unpleasantness can be concluded." He turned back to Lady Elira, his expression hardening once more. "Do you understand, Lady Elira?”

Lady Elira's gaze flickered to me for a fleeting moment, a silent question in her tear-filled eyes, before she turned back to Levi, a desperate idea forming in her mind.

"Sir Blake," she said, her voice trembling but gaining a sliver of focus, "if the child is a girl... she cannot be an heir to my house. Let me... let me keep the child if she is a girl.”

"Lady Elira," he stated, his gaze unwavering, "the earliest reliable date to determine the gender of the fetus would be at least ten weeks from now. Do I need to remind you that with every passing week, an abortion becomes potentially more harmful to your physical well-being? And lastly, if the child is indeed a girl, as you so desperately wish, she will be disregarded, perhaps even resented, by your own family for tarnishing their last hope of continuing their lineage. Your 'solution' offers you no true victory, only a different kind of burden."

Despite my fierce desire to see Lady Elira escape this predicament, a grim truth settled within me. He was likely right. Even if the child were a girl, would her family truly embrace her after pinning their hopes on a male heir for so long? Would Lady Elira be ostracized for failing to secure the continuation of their lineage in the traditional way?

Lady Elira's voice, though soft, held a newfound resolve. "Sir Blake," she stated, her hand resting on her abdomen, "I don't want to end the life of a baby, no matter the consequences."

So, one might think this woman’s resolve is some type of catharsis, a light that might change Levi’s mind. Of course not. This is a game for him; the stronger the chase, the higher the stakes, the longer he enjoys. He enjoys the flickers of light coming to people’s eyes, only to extinguish them slowly, kindly with gentle words.

"Such admirable conviction, Lady Elira. Truly," Levi said, his tone laced with a patronizing warmth that sent a shiver down my spine. "It speaks volumes of your character. And yet," he paused, his gaze softening slightly, as if sharing a gentle, undeniable truth, "conviction alone rarely alters the inevitable, does it?"

Levi's smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Ah, but Lady Elira," he purred, his voice dangerously soft, "if the concern is merely your family's potential demise, I can render that moot, right now. I happen to be aware of your house's recent acquisition of those gem mines, a rather desperate attempt, I suspect, to generate some short-term profit before your inevitable bankruptcy. I would be happy to expedite that process... for you, of course. Right now. No family, no need for an heir either. A rather elegant solution, wouldn't you agree?”

"If you... bankrupt my family," she asked, her gaze fixed on Levi, "will you let me keep the child? Regardless of gender?"

"So, you would sacrifice everything?" Levi mused, his gaze now intently focused on Lady Elira, a flicker of genuine curiosity in his eyes. "Your name, your standing, your future security, all for this child? It's almost admirable. Tell me, Lady Elira, what makes this child so indispensable to you?"

Oh Lady Elira, what did you do? You just gave the lion a juicy piece of steak. That’s it. He is not going to be swayed by your resolve, he doesn’t care. This wasn't a path to compromise for Levi; it was an invitation to a more intricate and ultimately more satisfying game of control, where he could savor the slow extinguishing of her hope.

"Because it is a life, Sir Levi," Lady Elira said, her voice trembling slightly but firm with conviction. "An innocent life. And I cannot, in good conscience, be the one to extinguish it." Her gaze remained locked with his, a quiet defiance shining through her tears. It was touching, but it was the wrong answer given to Levi.

Okay, Raphael. Let’s bump some of Levi’s dark energy. What can you do here?

"Levi," I interjected, my voice calm and even, deliberately cutting across the charged silence. "While I understand your perspective on the origin of this situation, perhaps now isn't the time for philosophical debates on the sanctity of life. Lady Elira has expressed her feelings clearly." I shifted my gaze slightly to include both of them. "Maybe we could focus on finding a practical path forward, one that acknowledges all the... complexities involved."

"Practicalities, you say?" Levi echoed, turning his full attention to me, a glint of something sharp in his eyes. "An interesting suggestion, Raphael. Perhaps you have a 'practical path forward' in mind? One that adequately addresses the violation I have suffered while also respecting Lady Elira's deeply held convictions?" He paused, his gaze flicking briefly to Lady Elira before returning to me, a subtle challenge in his expression. "I confess, I am eager to hear it."

Shit, he put me on the spot. There was no easy "practical path forward" here, not one that would satisfy his vengeful desires and Lady Elira's desperate hope.

"From a practical standpoint, Levi," I began, turning slightly towards Lady Elira, making eye contact with her for a brief moment of acknowledgment, "any path forward must also consider Lady Elira's well-being and her... current circumstances. Understanding her perspective on potential resolutions would be a logical first step?"

A genuine, unsettling amusement danced in Levi's eyes. He turned his gaze fully to me, a slow smile spreading across his lips, and the chill I felt intensified tenfold. "My dear Pulla," he purred, the endearment laced with a possessiveness that felt like a physical restraint, "siding with someone else while your husband sits right beside you? Such... misplaced loyalty. Now, now, remind me of your great idea. Why shouldn't I simply do both? The bankruptcy and the abortion? Simultaneously, perhaps? A truly efficient solution, wouldn't you agree?"

My heart pounded against my ribs.

I leaned in close to Levi, lowering my voice to a near whisper, trying to convey a sense of intimacy and shared understanding, even though my heart hammered with anxiety. "Levi," I murmured near his ear, my breath catching slightly, "do you really need to flex your power right now? Especially in front of her. For God's sake, you're talking about ending her entire family. Just... calm down.”

"Flexing? Is that what you call it, Pulla?" Levi chuckled softly against my ear, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "I prefer to think of it as... demonstrating clarity. And as for ending her family, well, desperate times, desperate measures, wouldn't you say? Perhaps you'd prefer a more drawn-out, agonizing decline? I'm flexible."

I hissed back, my voice low and urgent, "Asshole, don't flirt with me right now. Just tell her something... anything. I don't know. Just dial it back before she completely breaks."

Levi leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips as he straightened his jacket. He reached down to the side of his chair, retrieving a thick, leather-bound folder. With a deliberate flourish, he tossed it onto the polished table between them. Lady Elira flinched at the sudden noise.

Levi tapped his fingers. "Dear Lady Elira," he began, his voice smooth and almost gentle, "this is just a fraction of the documents I have gathered over the years." He gestured to the thick folder on the table. "Given your... delicate position, I would advise you not to read it, at least not right now."

He continued, "These documents meticulously corroborate the various indiscretions your family has engaged in over the years. Shall we say, their treatment of lovers, servants, employees? It's quite a detailed tapestry of casual cruelty. And as you know, most noble families benefit from a certain immunity from legal repercussions, allowing such behavior to continue unchecked."

Levi leaned back slightly. "However, since your resolve to keep this child suggests this matter will not conclude with our afternoon tea, I have a suggestion. I understand Lady Isolde is hosting her tea party next week. I highly recommend you attend. You can take these documents with you. Consider them... conversation starters." A faint, chilling smile touched his lips. "Perhaps a broader understanding of your family's legacy might inform your decisions moving forward."

"Sir Levi," Lady Elira said, "this has been a very taxing discussion. For the sake of my health and the well-being of my... my condition, I must take my leave now. Thank you for your time." She rose slowly, her gaze lingering on the thick folder. With a deep breath, she reached out and took the documents, clutching them tightly to her chest as if they were both a burden and a shield. Then, she turned and walked, with as much dignity as she could muster, towards the exit.