Chapter 3
862words
The doctor departed, and Ilara sank into the chair beside the bed.
The door opened again. Assuming it was the doctor returning, she began to look up when that familiar, icy voice froze her in place.
"Ilara."
She went rigid.
"Your son, Leo, four years old," he pronounced each word with deadly precision, each syllable an ice-cold dagger in her back, "is my son, isn't he?"
Ilara's body turned to stone, as if submerged in arctic waters.
She couldn't turn around. She could only listen as he continued in that terrifyingly calm voice, stating the truth she'd spent five years concealing.
He approached slowly, his footsteps in the silent room like a death knell counting down.
"So tell me," he stopped behind her, his breath cold against her ear, his whisper soft yet devastating, "I've missed four years of my son's life, haven't I?"
* * *
Ilara felt her soul ripped from her body by those words. The world disintegrated around her, leaving only his cold voice echoing in the void.
Her mind emptied. Instinct screamed to deny everything, but when she opened her mouth, no sound emerged. Her silence was damning.
Killian's gaze turned terrifyingly intense.
Just then, Leo stirred.
The child lay on the hospital bed, tear tracks still visible on his face, cheeks puffy from the reaction, but breathing steadily. Despite the IV in his arm and his obvious exhaustion, he reached for Ilara the moment he saw her.
"Mommy..." his voice still raspy from crying.
Ilara's heart shattered. She rushed to him, gathering his small body in her arms as tears spilled down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, baby. Mommy got here as fast as she could. I'm so sorry..."
"I'm okay now, Mom. Just itchy." Leo patted her back with his small hand, comforting her with surprising maturity.
Ilara clutched him, sobbing. Fear, relief, heartache, and terror about what came next—all erupted at once, threatening to tear her apart.
Killian stood motionless nearby, watching the scene unfold.
For the first time, his gaze truly focused on the child.
Through her tears, Ilara saw something crack in Killian's icy composure as his eyes traced Leo's features.
He saw it.
He saw the deep-set eyes and straight nose, the stubborn set of the lips identical to his own, the dark curls that matched his childhood photos.
A perfect miniature version of himself.
Killian's throat worked convulsively. His hand clenched at his side, knuckles whitening.
He neither approached nor spoke. He simply stood there, a silent, grieving sentinel, his eyes never leaving the boy—as if trying to absorb in one moment all the thousand days he'd lost.
Hours later, with Leo's condition stabilized, an exhausted Ilara carried her sleeping son from the hospital.
Killian's car idled at the entrance.
Ilara stopped short. She wanted nothing more to do with him, but alone at night, in an unfamiliar area, with a child in her arms—she had little choice.
The car door swung open. Killian emerged, walked around, and opened the rear door. He said nothing, his expression making clear this wasn't a request.
Ilara bit her lip and surrendered to necessity.
She carefully settled Leo in the back seat, securing his safety belt.
The return journey stretched endlessly.
Killian drove directly to her Brooklyn apartment without asking for directions. He'd clearly investigated her thoroughly. The realization chilled Ilara to the bone.
She unbuckled Leo and gathered him into her arms. "Thank you for the ride. About today—"
"Get out," Killian cut her off, his voice emotionless.
Ilara silently exited with her son, not daring to look back, desperate to reach her sanctuary. She hurried into the building, raced upstairs, and slammed the door behind her as if it could keep the world at bay.
She gently laid Leo on his bed and tucked him in. Watching his peaceful face, her frayed nerves finally began to unwind. She sagged against the doorframe, exhausted as if she'd run a marathon.
What now?
He knew. He knew about Leo. With his personality, he wouldn't let this go.
What would he do? Sue for custody?
With his resources, she wouldn't stand a chance.
The thought of losing Leo made her dizzy, her lungs constricting.
No. She would never allow it.
Leo was her life. No one would take him from her. No one.
As panic swirled through her mind, three sharp knocks rang out.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Neither gentle nor harsh—measured, deliberate, and devastating to Ilara's fragile composure.
She froze.
Was it... him?
Why would he be here? Hadn't he driven away?
Ilara held her breath, motionless. She prayed she'd misheard, that it was a neighbor or anyone else.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The knocking continued, insistent and unavoidable.
Ilara knew there was no escape.
She took a deep breath and crept to the door, peering through the peephole.
In the dim hallway light, his tall figure loomed like a dark sentinel.
It was Killian.
Ilara's heart plummeted.
The reckoning had arrived.
After an eternity of hesitation, she opened the door with trembling hands.
