Elara's POV

I didn't sleep. How could I, knowing Damian was out there, watching? At dawn, I checked on the twins still sleeping, innocent and unaware their world was about to shatter and went downstairs to open the bookstore.

He was waiting outside.

Five years had changed him. His jaw was sharper, his shoulders broader, and those blue eyes that haunted my dreams were colder than I remembered.

 He wore an expensive suit that screamed power and money, completely out of place in Fairhaven's small town charm.

When our eyes met through the window, the air left my lungs.

I unlocked the door with trembling hands. He stepped inside, and the space that had always felt cozy suddenly seemed suffocatingly small.

"Elara." My name on his lips sent shivers down my spine. "Or should I call you the ghost who's been haunting me for five years?"

"Damian, I can explain."

"Can you?" He moved closer, predatory and controlled. "Can you explain how you let me believe you were dead? How have you been living here, raising my child, while I've been in hell?"

"Your child?" I lifted my chin, finding strength I didn't know I had. "You didn't even know they existed until three days ago."

His hand shot out, gripping my wrist, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind me of his strength. "Because you kept them from me. Five years, Elara. Five goddamn years."

"To protect them! Victoria was hunting us."

"Victoria's been dead for three months. Yet you're still here, still hiding." His eyes searched mine, looking for truth, for lies, for something I couldn't give him. "Why?"

Because I was afraid. Afraid of him, of his anger, of what he'd become. Afraid that he'd take my children and I'd lose them like I'd lost everything else.

"Mama?"

We both froze. Maya stood at the bottom of the stairs in her princess pajamas, her dark hair Damian's hair, tangled from sleep. She stared at Damian with open curiosity.

"Who's that?" she asked.

Damian released my wrist, his entire body going rigid. He stared at Maya like she was an apparition, and I watched as recognition, shock, and something that looked painfully like wonder crossed his face.

"This is" My voice caught. "This is your father, sweetheart."

"The one who was alive?" Maya tilted her head, studying him with the same intensity he studied her. "You're very tall."

A sound escaped Damian half laugh, half sob. He dropped to his knees, bringing himself to Maya's eye level. "Hi." His voice was rough, uncertain in a way I'd never heard. "I'm Damian. Your... your dad."

"I'm Maya." She walked closer, fearless as always. "I'm five. Almost six. Lucas is my twin, but I'm older by two minutes."

"Lucas?" Damian's eyes shot to mine. "There's two?"

Before I could answer, Lucas appeared, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He saw Damian and immediately moved to stand beside Maya, protective despite being the younger twin.

"Who are you?" Lucas asked, less trusting than his sister.

"I'm your father," Damian said, his voice breaking on the last word. He looked at them both, his children, and I saw the exact moment his control shattered. "My God. You're real. You're here."

"Of course we're real," Maya said matter of fact. "Where else would we be?"

Damian's laugh was watery. He looked at me, and the fury from moments ago had transformed into something more complex, anger, yes, but also grief, longing, and a desperate hunger I recognized.

"They look like me," he whispered.

"Yes." I moved closer, needing to be between him and the children despite everything. 

"Maya has your hair and stubborness. Lucas has your eyes and intelligence."

"And your smile," Damian said softly, looking at Lucas. "And your courage," he added, watching Maya. He stood slowly, towering over all of us. "We need to talk. Alone."

"I'm not leaving them "

"Mama, can we have pancakes?" Maya interrupted, apparently bored with the emotional adults. "With chocolate chips?"

"I'll make them," Sarah's voice came from the back entrance. She must have used her key. "Come on, munchkins. Let's give your mom and... dad some privacy."

Sarah shot me a look that said we'd talk later, then herded the twins toward the small kitchen behind the bookstore. 

Damian watched them go, his expression unguarded for a moment before the cold mask returned.

"Explain," he commanded. "Now. Everything."

So I did. I told him about Victoria's plan, about Rosa's death, about running while pregnant and alone. About Marcus's visits, the money, the decision to stay hidden even after Victoria died.

"I was scared," I finished. "Not just of Victoria's associates, but of you. Of what you'd become, what you'd do when you found out."

"What I'd become?" His voice was dangerously quiet. "You made me believe you were dead, Elara. 

You let me grieve, let me blame myself for your death, while you were here building a life with my children."

"I was protecting them!"

"From me?" He moved faster than I expected, backing me against the bookshelf. His hands caged me in, his body a wall of heat and fury. "I'm their father. You had no right."

"You were cruel!" The words exploded out of me. "You treated me like property, like something you owned. How was I supposed to trust you with our children?"

"I was manipulated by a psychopath who wanted to destroy me!" His control snapped. "Everything I did, everything I said, she orchestrated it. Used my trauma against me, used you as a weapon.

 And when I finally saw the truth, when I was ready to beg your forgiveness, you were gone."

Tears streamed down my face. "I didn't know."

"You didn't ask." His forehead pressed against mine, and I felt him trembling. "You ran instead of fighting for us. For what we could have been."

"There was no 'us,' Damian. There was only your possession and my cage."

"There could have been." His voice dropped to a whisper. "If you'd stayed. If you'd trusted me."

"You gave me no reason to trust you."

"And you gave me no chance to earn it." He pulled back, his eyes blazing. "But that ends now. I'm not leaving. I'm not walking away from my children."

"I'm not asking you to. But you don't get to dictate terms anymore. I'm not your prisoner."

"No." His smile was sharp, dangerous. "You're the mother of my children. 

Which makes you something far more permanent." He leaned close, his lips brushing my ear. "I'm buying a house here. I'm staying. And we're going to figure this out, whether you like it or not."

"You can't just."

"Watch me." He stepped back, straightening his suit. "I'll be at the hotel tonight. Tomorrow, I will meet my children properly. Get used to seeing me, Elara. Because I'm not going anywhere."

He walked out, leaving me shaking against the bookshelf.

Sarah appeared with the twins. "So that's him," she said quietly. "The father."

"Yes."

"He's terrifying."

"Yes."

"And still in love with you."

I looked at her sharply. "That's not he doesn't."

"Mama, can we see Daddy tomorrow?" Maya asked, chocolate smeared on her face. "He seems nice."

Nice. Damian Voss was many things, but nice had never been one of them.

"Yes, sweetheart. You'll see him tomorrow."

As I watched them eat pancakes, laughing and innocent, I wondered what I'd done.

Damian was back in our lives.

And everything was about to change.