Chapter 33
The atmosphere in the Creed mansion had soured from domestic bliss to a tomb of regret. The air was thick with the smell of expensive scotch and the heavy silence of a man who had realized he traded a diamond for a stone.
“Amara left me… help me figure out how to get her back,” Seb slurred, reaching for the bottle of amber liquid on the mahogany table.
Damien, his long-time friend, snatched the bottle away with a look of pure exasperation. “Stop drinking. I warned you, Seb. Secrets can’t stay hidden forever. You didn’t listen, and now you regret it. I don’t think Amara will ever forgive you. Not after what happened p>
“I don’t want my Amara to be with Julian!” Seb roared, slamming his fist onto the table. The rage was a mask for the terror clawing at his throat. “I didn’t expect him to be secretly in love with my wife for ten years. He’s been waiting in the shadows like a vulture p>
Damien leaned back, his voice cold. “You’ve got nothing left, Seb. Creed Tech is being transferred, your reputation is in the gutter, and your wife is in the arms of a billionaire who actually values her. So, what’s next for you p>
The walls of the mansion, once a symbol of Seb’s power, now felt like they were closing in. The air was thick with the scent of stale scotch and the suffocating realization of everything he had thrown away.
“I don’t know… I don’t know,” Seb chanted, his voice breaking. The pain wasn’t just in his head; it was a physical ache in his chest where his pride used to be.
Damien stood up, checking his watch, his face etched with a mix of pity and frustration. “I’ll get going then. Go easy, Seb.” As he headed for the door, he passed Elara, who was gliding into the room with her usual polished grace.
“Seb is in a bad mood. Talk to him,” Damien muttered before disappearing into the night.
Elara stepped over a fallen glass, her eyes scanning the disheveled man on the sofa. She didn’t offer a hug or a glass of water. Her mind was already on the next move.
“Why did you drink so much?” she asked, her voice devoid of the warmth she usually performed. She leaned against the mahogany desk, crossing her arms. “Well, Seb, Seren’s tuition will soon be due. Transfer me some millions dollars. I need to get the paperwork started for the private academy p>
Seb looked up at her, his vision swimming. The word millions rang in his ears like a shrill alarm. He had just been rejected by his best friend for a loan, his cards were likely next on the Pedro family’s hit list, and the woman he had “protected” was already asking for a payout.
“Millions?” Seb repeated, a hollow laugh escaping his lips. “Elara, did you not hear? Creed Tech is gone. The Pedro family has closed the gates. I don’t have ’millions’ to just move around anymore p>
Elara’s expression shifted instantly. The soft, “scared” victim vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating woman. “What do you mean you don’t have it? You’re a Creed. Figure it out. I’m not letting my…our daughter’s future suffer because you couldn’t keep your first love under control p>
Seb stared at her, really looking at her for the first time without the lens of her lies. The woman who had begged for his protection was now demanding a fortune while he was at his lowest.
The rejection hit Elara like a physical slap, but her eyes didn’t fill with tears, they filled with a sharp, calculating greed. She watched him sway, a king without a kingdom, drowning in a bottle of his own regret.
“All you ever talk about is money,” Seb growled, his voice thick and slurring. He gestured vaguely toward her throat and wrists, where diamonds he had paid for caught the dim light of the study. “Sell the jewelry I gave you to cover it. You want millions? There it is. On your neck p>
Elara’s hand flew to her necklace, her fingers curling around the stones. “Oh, my jewelry?” she gasped, her voice losing its sweetness. “These are my favorite pieces. I love them. I won’t sell them, Seb. They were gifts. You can’t take back a gift p>
Seb let out a harsh, guttural laugh that turned into a cough. He tried to stand, his legs shaking under the weight of the alcohol and the crushing reality of his ruin. “Clearly… I lost my company because of you,” he hissed, pointing a trembling finger at her. “The Pedros, the police, Amara… it’s all because I chose to protect you. How dare you still ask me for money p>
He stumbled, his balance failing him. Elara reached out, her hands grasping his silk shirt to steady him, less out of love and more out of a need to keep her meal ticket upright. “Seb, honey, you’re just drunk p>
“Get off me p>
With a burst of drunken strength, Seb shoved her away. Elara stumbled back, hitting the edge of the mahogany desk with a sharp cry of surprise. Seb didn’t even look back to see if she was hurt. He grabbed his car keys from the table, his eyes unfocused but driven by a singular, desperate urge to escape the suffocable air of the mansion.
“Seb! Where are you going?” she shrieked. “You can’t drive like that p>
He didn’t answer. The heavy front door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the empty halls like a gavel. He was going to find Amara. He was going to find the only woman who had ever loved him for his heart and not his bank account, even if he had to crawl to the Pedro mansion on his hands and knees.
Left alone in the silent room, Elara straightened her dress, her face hardening into a mask of pure ice. She looked at the jewelry in the mirror. If Seb was going down, she wasn’t going with him.
The innocence in Seren’s voice was a sharp contrast to the cold calculation in the room. She stood in the doorway, clutching a worn teddy bear, her eyes wide with the kind of fear only a child feels when they realize the adults around them are unraveling.
“Mummy… are we out of money?” Seren whispered, her voice trembling. “Why do you need to sell your jewelry p>
Elara didn’t pull the girl into a hug. She didn’t offer a comforting lie. Instead, she turned to the mirror, adjusting a diamond earring with a sharp, clinical flick of her wrist.
“We might be broke, Seren,” Elara said, her reflection’s eyes meeting the girl’s. “But Amara isn’t. She’s a Pedro now. She’s swimming in more wealth than this house ever saw p>
“But… Daddy was angry,” Seren murmured, looking at the floor.
“Your father is a mess,” Elara snapped, then softened her voice just enough to be manipulative. “Listen to me. Amara adopted you. So, she is responsible for you. She should be the one covering your fees. You want to go back to your school and see your friends, don’t you p>
Seren nodded slowly, her heart heavy. “OK… will she really give it to me p>
“Yes,” Elara said, a cruel, triumphant smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. “She loves you too much to say no. Even if she hates me, she can’t resist you. You go to the Pedro mansion tomorrow. You cry, you tell her you’re scared, and you tell her you have nowhere else to go. She’ll open her checkbook before you can finish a sentence p>
Elara turned around and knelt, finally touching the girl’s shoulder, but it wasn’t a caress, it was a grip. “She’s the reason your father is like this. She owes us, Seren. Remember that p>