Chapter 4
A peace offering? More like a trap.
Caelan hung up, forcing a painful smile. "Rowan, my mom, and Vivian aren't bad—just blunt. Don't take their harsh words to heart.
I glanced at him but stayed silent.
We approached the front door.
The door was slightly ajar, not fully closed.
Inside, the sound of Fiona and Vivian's conversation drifted out.
"Mom, will Rowan agree? That apartment on Moonwater Lane has an amazing location," Vivian said.
Fiona pressed on. "She wouldn't dare say no. She married Caelan, so she's a Drake now. What's hers is his, and what's his is ours. One apartment? Please. The rest will be yours and Caelan's soon enough."
Fiona sounded born to take what she wanted.
I paused and turned back to Caelan.
His face was as pale as a sheet.
I shot him a wordless smile.
Then, I reached out and pushed the door open.
As I opened the door, the living room fell silent.
Fiona and Vivian still wore the smug, greedy smiles of people who thought they'd already won. The moment they saw me, those smiles froze solid.
Caelan followed, pale and sweating.
The living room fell into eerie silence.
Fiona was first to react, her stiff expression shifting to a forced, overly cheerful smile.
"Oh, Rowan! You're finally here," she chirped.
And she stood up and hurried over, reaching for my hand.
"Come in and sit. I made lobster bisque for you. I was about to have Vivian rush you."
I leaned away from her hand.
So her hand lingered awkwardly in midair.
Her expression darkened briefly, then she forced a smile.
Vivian stood, her smile overly sweet. "Come sit, Rowan! Caelan, how could you leave her at the door?"
As she spoke, she gave Caelan a playful, reproachful glance.
He tried to speak but he couldn't get a word out.
I didn't bother with their performance. My gaze swept coldly over them before settling on Fiona's face.
"Mrs. Drake, I overheard you talking about my apartment at the door," I said.
My quiet voice hit the room like a stone dropped in water.
Fiona and Vivian's faces fell instantly.
Fiona's eyes flickered as she forced a smile. "Rowan, you heard wrong.
"We were just saying—now that you and Caelan are married, we're all family.
"Family draws no lines."
Here we go again with the "family" line.
'I had to bite back a laugh.
"Is that so?" I asked.
I sat on the couch across from them.
I carefully placed the marriage certificate on the coffee table.
The crisp new certificate stood in stark contrast to their ashen faces.
"But that's not what I heard," I added.
I crossed my legs, calmly watching them.
"What I heard was, 'She wouldn't dare say no. What's hers is ours.'
"And, 'The rest will be yours and Caelan's soon enough.'"
With each word I spoke, Fiona and Vivian's faces drained of another shade of color.
By the time I finished, their faces were pale.
The living room was completely silent.
Caelan stood there, looking like a puppet with its strings cut.
At last, Fiona's humiliation boiled over into fury.
Called out publicly, she dropped the act.
She slapped her thigh, sank onto the couch, and acted like a family elder.
Her voice was sharp and cutting. "That's right! I said it!
"Rowan, you married Caelan, so you're a Drake.
"What's yours belongs to our family now. What's the problem with that?
"Caelan spent years courting you—all the time, all the effort, all the money he put into you. You don't think any of that counts for something?
"We're asking for an apartment for Vivian's wedding—why refuse?
"Some wife you turned out to be!"
Her words came fast and relentless.
Every word carried bold, thief-like logic, as if her demands were natural.
I listened in silence, not even angry. Just hollowly amused, and deeply sad. Sad for the years I'd wasted, and for the man I'd once believed in.
After her tirade, I spoke slowly. "Are you done?"