Ariana's POV

The property sat at the end of a tree-lined private road, hidden behind gates that required three separate security clearances to open.

It wasn't a house. It was a fortress disguised as a modern mansion.

"Whoa," Eldric breathed as we pulled up the circular driveway. "This place is huge."

Elena stirred against my shoulder, blinking sleepily. "Are we there?"

"We're there, baby."

Lysander stood waiting at the entrance, flanked by two men in dark suits who screamed professional security. He had changed from the business attire he'd worn to our meeting; now he wore jeans and a dark sweater that somehow made him look more dangerous instead of casual.

The driver opened our door, and I climbed out, helping Elena down while Eldric scrambled out behind us.

"Welcome," Lysander said, his voice warm despite the circumstances. "I hope the drive wasn't too difficult."

"It was fine." I pulled Elena closer. "This is very generous of you, Mr. Moretti, but I need to be clear about expectations. I can pay for security, for accommodations.

"We'll discuss finances later. Right now, let's get you settled." He looked down at the twins. "You must be Eldric and Elena."

He stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of his sister. The protective gesture made my chest ache. "Who are you?"

"My name is Lysander. I'm a friend of your mother's, and I'm going to make sure you're all safe."

"From the bad people?"

Lysander's eyes flicked to me, questioning. I gave a small nod.

"Yes," he said seriously, crouching to Eldric's eye level. "From anyone who wants to hurt your family."

Eldric studied him for a long moment, then extended his hand. "Okay. Thank you."

They shook, two males assessing each other. Then Lysander stood and gestured toward the entrance.

"Come inside. I'll show you around."

The interior was stunning, all clean lines and expensive materials, but somehow warm instead of cold. A woman in her fifties appeared from a side hallway.

"This is Martha," Lysander introduced. "She manages the household. Anything you need, just ask her."

"I've prepared the east wing for you," Martha said kindly. "Three bedrooms, private sitting room, full bath. I thought the children might like to be close to you."

"That's perfect. Thank you."

She led us upstairs while Lysander disappeared into what looked like an office. The rooms were beautiful—the children's bedrooms connected by a shared bathroom, decorated in soft neutrals that somehow felt cozy.

"Can we really stay here?" Elena whispered, looking around her room with wide eyes.

"For now, yes."

"I like it." She climbed onto the bed, testing the mattress. "It's bouncy."

Eldric was less easily distracted. He checked the windows, tested the locks, and examined the room with an intensity that broke my heart.

"Eldric, sweetie, it's okay. We're safe here."

"How do you know?" He turned to face me. "You don't even know that man. What if he's working with Dad?"

The word "Dad" sounded foreign coming from his mouth. He had never called Asher that before. He had never called anyone that.

"He's not. I would sense it if he were lying."

"But what if—"

"Eldric." I pulled him into a hug. "I know you're scared. I am too. But sometimes we have to trust people, even when it's hard. Lysander offered to help when no one else would."

He hugged me back tightly. "I just want us to be okay.

"We will be. I promise."

After getting the twins settled, I went downstairs. Voices came from the office; Lysander was talking to someone on the phone.

"I don't care what it costs. I want twenty-four-seven surveillance on Westwood Corporation and Asher's personal residence. If he so much as looks in this direction, I want to know about it."

I knocked on the doorframe. He looked up and ended the call.

"They settled in okay?"

"They're exhausted. Thank you for this. For all of it."

"You don't need to keep thanking me." He gestured to a chair. "Sit. We need to talk about next steps.

I sank into the leather chair, suddenly aware of how tired I was. "What happens now?"

"Now we build your case. My legal team is already working with your lawyer. We'll fight the paternity petition, the custody demands, all of it."

"Can we win?"

"Honestly? It'll be difficult. He is their biological father, and pack courts tend to favor bloodline claims. But we have advantages. You've been their sole caretaker for six years. You have documentation of his rejection, witnesses to his abandonment."

"Will that be enough?"

"It'll have to be." He leaned forward. "But Ariana, you need to prepare yourself for the possibility that he'll get some form of visitation. The courts rarely deny a parent all access."

My stomach churned. "I can't let him near them. You don't understand what he's capable of—"

"Then help me understand. Tell me everything about that night, about what happened when you left."

So I did. I told him about the gallery, about Isabella, and about Asher's cold dismissal. About being three weeks pregnant and terrified, running with nowhere to go.

About the years since, building a life while constantly looking over my shoulder.

When I finished, Lysander's face was filled with fury.

"He's going to regret this," he said quietly. "All of it.

"I don't want revenge. I just want my children safe."

"You'll have both." He stood and walked to the window. "There's something else you should know. Asher's been making moves in the business world. Hostile takeovers, aggressive expansion. He's consolidating power."

"What does that have to do with us?"

"Everything. He's building leverage. Resources to fight with. And Isabella, she's been spreading rumors about you through pack channels. Painting you as unstable and vindictive."

Anger flared hot in my chest. "Of course she is."

"We'll counter it. I have contacts in multiple packs. We'll make sure your side of the story gets told."

My phone buzzed. I'd turned it back on during the drive, unable to completely disconnect.

Text from Maya: “Where are you? Your building security said you moved out. What's going on?”

I typed back: “Long story. I'm safe. I will call tomorrow.”

Another text came through. Asher: “I know you left the city. Bring my children back, or I'll have no choice but to involve the authorities.”

I showed Lysander the message.

"Empty threat," he said immediately. "The authorities won't help him kidnap children from their custodial parent. He's grasping."

"He sounds desperate."

"Desperate men make mistakes. Let him."

But I knew Asher. Desperate or not, he was dangerous. And with Isabella whispering poison in his ear, there was no telling what he might do.

"You should get some rest," Lysander said. "Tomorrow we start fighting back properly."

I nodded and stood to leave but paused at the door. "Why are you doing this? Really? You barely know me."

He was quiet for a moment. "My sister was in a situation like yours once. Different circumstances, but similar outcome. Someone powerful decided he had rights to her child, rights he hadn't earned. She fought him alone and lost everything."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just let me help you win."

I went upstairs and checked on the twins. Both were asleep, Elena curled around her stuffed rabbit, while Eldric sprawled across his bed.

I stood in the doorway watching them, these two perfect humans I had created and protected and loved with everything in me.

Asher wanted to take them. To claim fatherhood after six years of absence.

But they were mine. I had earned every moment of their lives through sleepless nights and scraped-together finances and fierce, unending love.

And I would fight him with everything I had to keep them.

My phone buzzed again. Unknown number this time: You can't hide forever. Those children belong to the Westwood Pack.

I knew it was Isabella.

I blocked the number and turned my phone off completely.

Tomorrow I will fight back. Tonight I just needed to breathe.