To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 8

"No need to kneel!" The old woman stepped in front of Elara, her voice sharp. "You know better than anyone how much it pains Elara not to have found her parents. And yet your wife keeps poking at that wound, over and over. Frankly, Elara's patience is a miracle—if she hasn't cut out your wife's tongue by now, she's being gracious."

"Mom, you can't have double standards," Gareth protested.

But the old woman jabbed a finger right at his nose. "Did you even hear what your wife just said? I was ashamed just listening! Are you deaf?"

"Don't think that just because I let that stepdaughter of yours use our family name, she's suddenly on par with Elara. I won't have her back in this house. If she wants to die, she can die out there alone."

"Listen to me, if anyone dares tarnish the Vincent family's reputation, I'll send them straight to meet our ancestors myself!"

A chill ran down Gareth's spine.

"Both of you—get to the chapel. Now!"

The old woman's fury brooked no argument. Gareth, not daring to defy her, grabbed Nanette—who was still fuming—and hurried away.

"Grandma, please, watch your blood pressure," Brian said gently.

Felice took two long, calming breaths.

"If you two really want to prove your devotion, then give me a great-grandchild. Once you have a baby, your hearts will be bound together for good."

Maybe it was the power of suggestion, but the moment Felice mentioned a child, Elara felt a strange, tightening pain in her stomach.

She and Brian had been trying for a year without success. It should have been a heartbreak.

But if this marriage was nothing but a sham, if she was just Lina's scapegoat, then maybe not having a child was actually a blessing.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, almost reflexively. Brian, misunderstanding, thought her surgery wound was hurting again and immediately reached out to steady her.

Elara shook off his hand, offered a polite nod to the old woman, and walked away on her own.

Felice sighed and shook her head.

Once a woman's doubts become certainty, no amount of sweet words will bring her back.

"John Prescott," she called, "I need you to take care of something for me."

She never finished. The butler hurried over, interrupting them.

"Ma'am, the matriarch picked up this piece of jewelry from The Curio Gallery a few days ago. She found it didn't suit her, so she wanted you to have it."

The butler presented a small ebony box.

Elara took it and lifted the lid.

Inside lay a jade bangle—thick, old-fashioned, clearly more suited to the old woman than to her.

Brian caught the implication and sighed. "Grandma's just trying to cheer you up in her own way. Don't disappoint her, Elara."

Cheer her up?

Or maybe it was just another reminder: without the Vincent family's monthly allowance, she and her family would have nothing to stand on.

As if on cue, John Prescott added, "The matriarch said if you really don't like the bangle, you're welcome to smash it. If it breaks, so be it—sometimes, things are meant to end. There's no use forcing it."