29. Chapter 29

Chapter twenty-nine

Present

P inning the scan back onto the wall, I’m startled by a loud crash and a commotion coming from the front of the house. My heart skips a beat, and without hesitation, I jump to my feet and rush out of my station, sprinting down the hallway towards the main area of our parlour to see what the hell is going on.

Pushing aside the curtain that separates the hallway from the parlour, I step through and immediately see the back of Ethan, standing rigid, just a few feet away. Beyond him, Sydney and Maeve are positioned in a way that blocks my view of whatever is happening. Their tense postures and the uneasy glances they exchange make my stomach churn with anxiety.

"Where is he?" a man shouts, his voice cutting through the air like a knife as I push past Ethan and the girls to see the source of the commotion. It's Brian, Laelia's father, and he's swaying unsteadily where he stands. The strong stench of alcohol clings to him, as familiar as it is repulsive. He's drunk, as usual.

My eyes scan the studio, taking in the chaos he’s left in his wake. The wall displays that once showcased our proudest moments are now in ruins, ripped down and scattered across the floor. The glass table where our portfolios used to rest is shattered, its remains glistening like sinister confetti under the harsh lights. The glittering shards crunch under my feet as I take a step forward, trying to assess the full extent of the damage.

When I look back at Brian, I notice the telltale signs of his growing anger—his flared nostrils, bared teeth, and a face that has turned an alarming shade of red. His eyes are wild, practically glowing with a rage that has clearly been simmering for a long time. It’s the kind of anger that feels dangerously close to boiling over.

His gaze locks onto me, and I see a flicker of recognition—or maybe contempt—in his eyes. He lets out a low, sinister chuckle, one that sends a shiver down my spine. "Ah, I see the rat has finally crawled out of the hole it's been hiding in," he sneers.

I sigh, already weary of the confrontation I know is coming. Dealing with Brian is always draining, and today is no exception. He’s a lot of things, but kind isn’t one of them. In fact, it’s the polar opposite. His cruelty is the reason Laelia cut him out of her life, the reason she no longer has—nor will she ever—have a relationship with him.

"What do you want, Brian?" I ask, my voice tired as I rub my hand over my face. "You know you’re not welcome here. You're trespassing and disturbing my workplace." The truth is, he’s lucky we haven’t already called the police to have him removed.

He scoffs, his derision evident. "What do I want? What do I want?" he bellows, his voice growing louder with each repetition. "I want a lot of things, like a relationship with my daughter! But you took that away from me! You cost me my daughter! And because of you, I'll never see her again!" His finger jabs the air in my direction, trembling with barely contained fury. If looks could kill, I’d be dead ten times over by now.

For the record, I’ve done nothing to sabotage his relationship with Laelia. He did that all on his own. He treated her like dirt, and she finally had enough. I nearly beat him to a pulp five years ago because of how he treated her, and looking at him now, I feel that familiar anger bubbling up inside me again. But I keep it in check, reminding myself that he isn’t worth it.

This situation isn’t new, but it never gets easier. The broken man in front of me is a mess of his own making, but instead of facing the truth, he’s chosen to blame me for his own failures. And that, more than anything, is why Laelia will never look back.

12th November 2018

Heavy rain streams down the window as thunder rumbles in the distance. The storm outside feels miles away, separated from the warmth of our bed, where Laelia and I are cuddled up. She's chosen tonight's movie— Alice in Wonderland , a quirky, whimsical film that mirrors her own sense of adventure. As much as I appreciate Johnny Depp's talent, especially in his role as the Mad Hatter, I can't help but wish we were watching something else. My taste leans more towards horror—the scarier, the better—but Laelia can’t stand them before bed. They seep into her dreams, turning them into nightmares, and that’s the last thing I want for her.

I glance at the clock on the bedside table; it's already 1:30 in the morning. But with it being a late Saturday night, we don't have a care in the world. No obligations tomorrow, no need to wake up early. We can sleep in as long as we want, and that feels like a small piece of heaven. Lying here next to Laelia, the outside world fades away. It’s just us, tangled in the sheets, savouring the simplicity of the moment—sex, snacks, and a movie. What more could I possibly want?

Laelia snuggles closer, her eyelids growing heavy as she fights off sleep. She spent the entire day talking about watching both Alice in Wonderland and its sequel tonight, but now, halfway through the second movie, her body has other ideas. Her breathing deepens, becoming slower, more rhythmic, and I can tell that sleep is finally winning the battle. I chuckle softly to myself; sleep always wins with her. If she doesn’t get at least eight hours, she’ll be grumpy, miserable, and foul-mouthed all day long. I've never met anyone with a shorter temper than her when she's sleep-deprived.

Carefully, I reach for the remote and turn off the TV, plunging the room into darkness save for the occasional flash of lightning. The rain continues to pelt against the window, a soothing soundtrack that makes it even harder to stay awake. I should close the middle part of the curtain—Meatball, our cat, left it ajar when he jumped onto the window ledge—but I can’t bring myself to move. Laelia is fast asleep, and I don’t want to disturb her. Instead, I stay put, content to watch the rain and hold the woman I love more than anything in this universe.

There's something magical about the rain. People often complain about it, cursing it for ruining plans and leaving them soaked, but I love it. It’s peaceful to watch and even more peaceful to listen to. Rainy days that keep us stuck inside are the best, especially when I get to spend them with Laelia. Living in the UK means we’re more accustomed to rain than sunshine anyway—asking for sun here is like asking for rain in a drought. Very. Fucking. Rare.

As the rain lulls me into a sleepy haze, I feel myself beginning to drift off. I know that with Laelia in my arms, my dreams will be sweet because every dream involves her. Without her, life wouldn’t be as wonderful.

But just as I'm about to fall into a deep sleep, a loud bang echoes through the house. I jerk awake, and Laelia shoots up beside me, her face filled with worry. The sound is unmistakable—someone is pounding on the front door with alarming force.

“What the hell?” I mutter under my breath as I slide out of bed, grabbing my joggers and pulling them on in a rush. Laelia clutches the duvet to her chest, her wide eyes tracking my every move.

“Stay here,” I tell her firmly, reaching for the baseball bat that always rests beside my bedside table. It’s a precaution I never thought I’d need, but now, it seems like the right choice. “I’ll be right back.”

I walk out of the bedroom, my heart thudding in my chest as I make my way down the stairs. The banging continues, relentless and aggressive. Who the fuck is knocking on our door like this at this hour?

Peeking through the side window, I spot a soaking wet figure hunched over, its back turned to the door. The person looks to be about six feet tall, but the way they're slouching suggests they're in pain. As I study the figure more closely, they turn around and bang on the door again, and that’s when I recognise the face.

It’s Brian—Laelia’s alcoholic, drug-addicted father.

I let out a heavy sigh, wiping a hand over my face as I lean the baseball bat against the wall. This is the last thing I expected tonight, and definitely the last thing I wanted. Reluctantly, I turn the key and open the door, coming face-to-face with Brian.

“What are you doing here, Brian? It’s 1:30 in the morning,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm despite the irritation simmering beneath the surface.

His brows furrow, and he takes a step closer, reeking of alcohol. “If I want to see my daughter, Killian, I will see my fucking daughter!” he shouts, his voice slurred but filled with anger.

I blink, taken aback by the venom in his words. Who the fuck does he think he's talking to?

“Excuse me?” I retort, my own temper flaring.

“You heard me! Where’s my bitch of a daughter? She owes me money!” he hisses, his eyes narrowing as he stares me down.

I take a closer look at him, noticing the blood on his knuckles and the fresh bruise forming around his right eye. He’s been in a fight, and from the looks of it, he’s come out on the losing end.

“Laelia owes you nothing, Brian. And like I said, it’s 1:30 in the fucking morning. Go home,” I shout back, trying to close the door, but he wedges his foot in the gap.

“Get my fucking daughter or I’ll knock your fucking door down. Don’t test me!” he threatens, clenching his fists.

That’s when I catch the overpowering stench of alcohol on his breath. He’s not just drunk; he’s wasted.

With a deep breath, I pull the door open again and fix him with a stern look. “Don’t come to our house and start making fucking demands. You’re in no place to do that. If I were you, I’d turn around, go home, and never come back—or I’ll call the police.”

Two can play this game, and part of me hopes he’ll back down. But I know better. Brian’s never been one to walk away from a confrontation.

His face turns an ugly shade of red as he grits his teeth. “Last chance, worm. Get. My. Fucking. Daughter, or I’ll kill you where you stand.”

His threats are empty; I already know I can take him. He’s fragile, drunk, and strung out on who knows what. He’s a man with a raging addiction to cocaine and heroin, a man who thinks he can take on the world in his state. But he’s come to the wrong fucking door tonight.

Before I can react, I hear the sound of footsteps rushing down the stairs. I turn to see Laelia, her face pale with shock as she pulls the door open further, coming face-to-face with her father.

“Dad?” she asks, her voice trembling. “What are you doing here?”

Brian’s lips curl into a sinister smile, revealing his broken, yellowed teeth. “I’ve come for the money you fucking stole from me. What kind of vile human steals from their own father?” he spits, his words dripping with bitterness.

Laelia’s face falls, her confusion evident. “Stolen money? What stolen money?”

“The house. My house. The money you stole by selling it,” he slurs, swaying slightly on his feet as the alcohol starts to take its toll.

Laelia looks at him, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Dad, you signed the house over to me. You told me to do what I wanted with it because you were moving in with your girlfriend and it was what Mum would have wanted.”

A year ago, Brian had wanted nothing to do with the house. It was left to both of them by Laelia’s mother, with a fifty-fifty ownership split. But Brian wanted out—he wanted to start fresh with his new girlfriend. He’d told Laelia that her mum would have wanted her to have the house, to do whatever she wanted with it, even if that meant selling it. And that’s exactly what Laelia did. She used the money from the sale to put a deposit on our house, pay for a holiday for us—despite my insistence on paying my share—and saved the rest.

“To hell with your awful skank of a mother. It was my house! I want my fucking money!” Brian roars, his voice cracking with rage.

I’ve heard enough of his bullshit. Stepping in front of Laelia, I clench my fists, ready to put an end to this once and for all. “You have two fucking seconds to get off our property, or I’ll drag you off myself,” I threaten, my voice low and dangerous.

Brian laughs, a cruel sound that grates on my nerves. “Pretty boy thinks he can take me. What are you going to do, eh?” he taunts, taking a step forward.

“Don’t test me,” I hiss, moving closer.

Before I can do anything, Laelia tightens her grip on my arm, her voice sharp. "Don’t," she pleads, but her father’s next move seals his fate.

He swings at me, a clumsy, drunken punch that I easily dodge. But that’s it. I’m done holding back. The next moment, my fist connects with his face, the impact sending him stumbling back. He crashes to the ground, the rain soaking him instantly as he tries to get up, blood trickling from his nose.

I pull my arm free from Laelia’s grip, not caring about the consequences anymore. I walk towards him, bare feet slapping against the wet ground as he scrambles to his feet, attempting to swing at me again. This time, I dodge easily and deliver another blow, my knuckles cracking against his jaw. Blood splatters from his mouth, speckling my chest, but I don’t care.

He crashes to the ground again, harder this time, and I crouch over him, grabbing him by the collar. His breath is ragged, his eyes wild with a mixture of pain and fear. He lifts a trembling fist, trying to land a punch, but the alcohol has finally taken its toll. There’s no strength left in him.

I headbutt him, the sound of his nose breaking sharp and sickening. Pain flares through my head, but it’s nothing compared to the satisfaction of seeing him completely subdued. Blood pours from his nose, mixing with the rain and mud.

“Killian!” Laelia’s voice cuts through the storm, desperate, but I barely register it. My focus is entirely on the man beneath me, the man who dared to come to our home and threaten her.

“You can get the fuck off our property,” I growl, my voice low and dangerous. “If I ever see you again, you’ll get more than just a broken fucking nose. If you ever talk to her again, I will hunt you down myself and hand your ass to the police. Do you hear me?”

Brian nods frantically, coughing as he spits out blood. He’s broken, both physically and mentally, and he knows I’m not bluffing.

“Now get the fuck out and never show your face here again.” I release him with a shove, standing up as he stumbles to his feet, slipping in the mud before he finally manages to start running down the path. He doesn’t look back, and I know he got the message.

I turn back to Laelia, who’s standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself, trembling. The concern in her eyes as she looks at me, her gaze travelling from my bloodied knuckles to the bruise forming on my forehead, stirs something deep inside me. She rushes forward, grabbing my hand, her touch gentle despite the shaking in her fingers.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice thick with worry as she inspects my hand, then looks up at my head.

I cup her chin with my uninjured hand, lifting her gaze to meet mine. “Don’t worry, beautiful. It’ll heal. It doesn’t even hurt,” I lie, trying to reassure her. The pain in my hand and the pounding in my head are nothing compared to the relief of knowing Brian is gone.

“But if he ever comes back,” I continue, my voice hardening, “I promise you now, he’ll never walk again.”

She lifts my injured hand to her lips, pressing soft kisses to each bruised knuckle, her eyes never leaving mine. The gesture is so pure, so filled with love and concern, yet the fire in her gaze sends a rush of heat through me.

“Don’t give me that look,” I groan, feeling the tension between us shift into something else entirely.

“Why not?” she whispers, her voice teasing, yet laden with the same intensity I feel.

“Because, even after all that, you’re making me want to drag you back to bed and fuck you senseless.”

She smirks, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me. “Well, why don’t you then, hero?” she challenges, her voice dripping with desire.

Don’t have to tell me twice.

With a quick turn of the key, I make sure the door is locked, then I grab Laelia and toss her over my shoulder. She squeals in surprise, and I can’t help but grin as I smack her ass, earning a soft moan that sends a shiver of anticipation through me.

“Save those moans for when you’re screaming my name,” I say, my voice low and thick with lust.

“There’s no doubt about that,” she giggles, her voice sweet but taunting, and I know I’m about to make her forget everything that just happened.

As I carry her up the stairs, her laughter mixing with the fading sound of rain, I know one thing for sure: if Brian ever shows his face again, he’ll either end up in a body bag or behind bars. Laelia is mine, and I will protect what’s mine with everything I have. End of.