CHAPTER 103: 103

I narrowed my eyes at Nyxella, who was far too busy giggling as Nix made exaggerated faces at her from the driver’s seat. Her laughter filled the car, light and unbothered, while mine once her favorite sound had apparently been forgotten. The sight clawed at something deep inside me.

How did she change this much?

She used to cling to me, tracing my face with her tiny hands just to make sure I was smiling. Now, she barely spared me a glance, her whole world spinning around Nix this man who’d only just walked into her life yet somehow stole her heart in a matter of days.

I turned my gaze to the window, trying to hide the tension tightening my chest. The fading orange of the setting sun fell over the road ahead, and then it hit me. My pulse skipped.

No.

No, it can’t be.

This road... this wasn’t the way to the company.

I leaned slightly forward, my palms pressing against my knees as I stared harder, the familiar landmarks flashing by the old brick fence, the curve in the road that led straight to his estate. My heart quickened. I forced my breathing to slow, not wanting to attract attention, especially from him. My fingers curled around the edge of the seat to stop them from trembling.

"Mr. Dean," I began, keeping my voice even and my gaze locked on the road. "How much longer till we get to the company?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance at me through the rearview mirror, that faintly amused curve already forming on his lips.

"You seem to be in quite a hurry," he said lightly, the teasing tone in his voice unmistakable.

I rolled my eyes, turning my face away so he wouldn’t see the scowl forming.

"You seem to be too distracted to realize that I may have other things to do than tag along behind you," I retorted sharply.

He chuckled softly, his eyes flicking back to the road. Then, without missing a beat, he looked toward Nyxella, who was babbling excitedly beside him.

"Your mother sounds like she’s going to bite someone if she doesn’t get her way soon," he said, his tone full of mock seriousness. "You better keep her calm, little one. I can’t have a dramatic meltdown before dinner."

I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel, and his shoulders shook slightly with silent laughter.

This version of Nix looked foreign to me.

Nyxella, oblivious, only clapped her hands in delight, thinking it was part of their game.

My jaw tightened as I crossed my arms. "Very funny," I muttered under my breath, though I doubted he heard or maybe he did and chose to ignore it.

He finally spoke again, this time more composed. "It’s almost evening, and both you and this little one need to rest from the trip. We’ll be meeting with the board members tomorrow, and I assume you’re not well-versed in business." His tone turned firm, almost clinical. "I’ll give you a briefing tonight, so you can be prepared. It would be a waste of my time and resources if you can’t answer even one question tomorrow."

His words hit me like a flicker from the past, sharp and too familiar. It would be a waste of my time and resources if you can’t even answer a question...

The same thing he’d said to me that day he brought me into his world, when everything still felt uncertain when I was still just a stranger trying to understand why fate had tangled me with him at all.

I swallowed hard, forcing the memory down before it showed on my face. Outside, the car turned down a long, tree-lined driveway the one leading to his estate and I exhaled slowly, bracing myself.

The car rolled through the tall, wrought-iron gates with a low hum. The metal creaked as it swung open, revealing the vast expanse of the Dean estate grand, serene, yet suffocatingly familiar. The evening light bathed the marble drive in a golden hue, glinting off the sleek black stones that lined the walkway. The air here had a weight to it, one that pressed softly but firmly on my chest as we drove deeper in.

To the left stretched the rose gardens vast and perfectly symmetrical, each bush trimmed to precision. The scent of them wafted faintly through the half-open window, tugging at a buried part of my memory.

That scent...

I remembered standing there years ago, in silence, hands clasped tightly in front of them because i didn’t know what else to do with them. Back then, I stull found it hard to speak freely and then I was sold to him.

My heart clenched at the memory, and i forced myself to blink it away as the car moved past the gardens toward the main fountain, an elegant marble sculpture that stood like a sentinel in the center of the courtyard. The water danced and shimmered, the sound echoing faintly against the quiet hum of the engine. I could still recall the first time I’d seen Nix and how had kissed me claiming I was his.

"You’re mine Beloved"

The words echoed in my mind like an old wound reopening.

My fingers tightened around my dress, the fabric wrinkling beneath my grip.

The car curved around the front steps, where the great pillars of the mansion rose like watchtowers, tall, white, and immaculate. Every step of that stairway had its own memory. The night he had carried me up after I had fainted from exhaustion. The night i had run up the stairs barefoot scared for my life

I didn’t even realize I was trembling until Nyxella’s laughter jolted me back. Nix was carrying the little girl now, balancing her easily in one arm while talking to the butler who had come to greet us. The man bowed slightly before hurrying to open the door.

"Welcome home, Mr. Dean," the butler said, his voice thick with restrained emotion. His gaze flicked briefly toward me but he quickly looked away as though afraid of what he was seeing.

...

"Let’s go," Nix said quietly, leading the way up the stairs, and Nyxella’s giggles echoing through the entrance hall. He didn’t notice the way Elisa lingered just outside the doorway, her eyes glazed with memory. And her steps faltered as she looked around.

She vividly remembered the glow of the chandelier above that night when he’d pull her close in the living room, his lips tracing the edge of her jaw, whispering things he never dared say in daylight.

And that corner, by the glass window where they had stolen kisses during the maids’ absence, her laughter muffled against his chest as though the house itself would scold them for feeling too much.

Tears blurred her vision before she realized it, slipping silently down her cheeks. She didn’t even raise a hand to wipe them away.

Her voice caught in her throat not out of fear anymore, but from the ache of remembering.

Around them, the household staff had gathered quietly at a distance. The moment Elisa stepped fully into the marble-floored foyer, a collective gasp swept through them. One maid dropped the stack of linens she’d been holding, her trembling hands covering her mouth.

"Is that... Mrs. Dean?" one of them whispered, her voice cracking.

Another shook her head slowly, disbelief flooding her expression. "It can’t be. Her funeral was held right here. We saw.. we saw her portrait surrounded by flowers."

Yet there she was standing at the threshold, very much alive, her eyes glistening like glass under the chandelier’s light.

"That little one," one of the younger maids murmured, gaze shifting to Nyxella, who was now tugging playfully at Nix’s collar, "she looks just like the young master."

The whisper hung in the air, fragile and heavy all at once.

And Elisa, still lost somewhere between past and present, didn’t hear it or perhaps she did and chose not to pay attention.

Nix turned just as the butler took their coats. His gaze flicked instinctively toward Elisa and for a split second, something in her posture made him pause. She wasn’t simply tired or overwhelmed by the trip; there was a stillness to her. The kind that comes from being somewhere far too familiar.

Her eyes weren’t wandering with curiosity like a guest’s they were remembering. Tracking the chandelier, the piano, the spiral staircase with a kind of quiet grief that didn’t belong to a stranger.

Nyxella squirmed in his arms, tugging at his shirt collar and babbling nonsense, but he barely noticed.

"Elisa."

Her head snapped up at the sound of his soft, but edged voice.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his tone almost polite, but his eyes... They were searching. Watching every flicker of expression on her face. The same eyes that once looked at her with warmth now studied her like a puzzle he was one step away from solving.

"I’m fine," she said quickly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to avoid his gaze. "Just a little dizzy from the flight."

He hummed, the kind of sound that meant I don’t believe you, but I’ll let you keep your lie... for now.

As he handed Nyxella over to the butler to help with her coat, his eyes lingered on Elisa again. He took a step closer, hands slipping casually into his pockets, voice calm but probing.

"You seem familiar with the place," he said. "You’ve been here before?"

Elisa’s breath caught, but she didn’t turn.

"Pictures," she replied after a pause, forcing a small shrug. "It was in the news once, wasn’t it? Your house."

"Right," Nix said slowly, still studying her profile. "The house. Of course.. but I don’t remember my house being broadcasted on any new channel"

His tone was deceptively light, but his mind was far from calm. The resemblance between the child and himself, the pendant she wore, now this... every small detail was starting to align into a shape he didn’t like.

Still, he said nothing. Not yet.

Instead, he reached out to take Nyxella back into his arms, brushing her curls away from her face. The child giggled and rested her small hand on his cheek, a gesture so natural, so affectionate, it sent a ripple through the silent hall.

Elisa’s chest tightened, not just from his gesture but his words.

"Dinner will be ready soon, sir," the butler said quietly, clearly trying to diffuse the tension as the staff exchanged wary glances.

Nix nodded, his gaze still fixed on Elisa.

"Good. We’ll eat, and then rest. There’s much to discuss tomorrow."

He smily stated and left Elisa standing at the spot she was on knowing fully well the effect his words had on her