All Chapters of One Night with My Ex-Fiancé’s Ruthless Brother: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

(Third Person Limited Eleanor POV) Years of marriage had taught her exactly when Augustus stopped being a risk. Then she went to his study. Curiosity had stopped being curiosity sometime during dinner. She pulled on the gloves automatically, the same way other people locked doors. There had been a time when documents answered to her more readily than people did. The study smelled like him. The scent had changed over the years. Leather, the particular dust of old books, the faint chemical edge of whatever liniment he used for his knees now. The desk lamp gave her everything she needed. and it kept the room from announcing itself to the hallway. Most of it was exactly what she expected Augustus to keep. Correspondence, most of it routine — board minutes, condolence replies. She hadn't known Augustus was paying that much attention a folder of newspaper clippings about Draxler's company that Augustus apparently kept without telling anyone he kept them. Eleanor moved through these qui

(Augustus POV) Augustus's hand wouldn't stop shaking. He'd asked Holt to come at six in the morning, he'd wanted the meeting finished before the day officially began. and now, propped up against three pillows with the oxygen line taped under his nose, he was trying to sign his name on a document balanced against a leather folio, and the pen kept skating. Holt waited until Augustus lowered the pen. "Take your time." Holt said. He'd known Augustus for forty years, and he said it the way you'd say something to a man you respected too much to rush, even now. "I don't have time. That's rather the point." Holt looked down at the paperwork instead of responding. Augustus adjusted the papers and reached for the pen again. The matter-of-fact tone spoke for itself. The signature that emerged was recognizable. It looked like Augustus Churchill's signature. Just a version fighting harder to exist, the kind of signature that would prompt a bank teller to ask for ID. Holt said, taking the page

(Keyla POV) The envelope was heavier than it had any right to be. It came through the regular mail slot, it looked like the sort of thing people accidentally throw away, because it didn't look urgent. Just thick cream paper, my name typed cleanly above. An address almost nobody should've been able to trace. Then I saw the seal. Black wax, pressed with a crest — a shield, two crossed keys, a motto in Latin I couldn't read but recognized anyway, because I'd seen it engraved on cufflinks and stitched into linens for the better part of a year, half a decade ago. For a second, throwing it away felt easier than opening it.Nora had already noticed something was wrong. "What is it?" Nora was at the kitchen table, laptop open, but she looked up at whatever had crossed my face.The words sounded strange out loud. "It's—" I turned it over. The seal was unbroken. "It's from them." She was already moving before I'd finished speaking — she told me to sit down first, which I did, and then she

(Keyla POV) The rain started somewhere around the last mile of private road, and by the time the gate came into view — iron, tall, the kind that seemed designed to remind you whose territory this was — the windows were streaked and the late afternoon light had gone flat and grey. Blackthorn Manor appeared through it like a fact rather than a building. Stone, old, four storeys with the kind of proportions that communicated money so far back it had stopped needing to be discussed. I'd been here twice before. Two visits had been enough to leave a mark. Adrian had insisted would go well and which had not. I'd stood at that same gate both times, on a sunny day the first time and a mild evening the second, and it had been unsettling without ever needing to announce itself. In the rain, in mourning black, it was something else. His nose was practically against the glass. "It's enormous," Leo said, face pressed to the glass. A second later: "Like in the book with the dragon." I didn'

(Keyla POV) Leo came around the corner from the side hall with Nora's hand in his, and I reached for him before I meant to — My hand moved before I'd made the decision consciously, the move of someone securing something rather than greeting them, and Draxler was close enough to see it. Leo let me pull him in, but he was already looking past me. He'd spotted Draxler the way he spotted most things — quietly, without pointing, just a long assessment from the partial shelter of my side. I didn't look at Draxler. I kept my eyes on Leo and tried to think of a reason to move, to redirect, to put more floor between us and this moment.His eyes never left Draxler. "Mom." Leo's voice was low. "Who's that?"It was the safest answer I could think of. "Someone who lives here." I adjusted the strap of his backpack. "Don't stare." "I'm not staring. I'm looking." He said it like there was a meaningful distinction, judging by his expression, those were completely different activities.. He was stil