Chapter 49: Grandchild? - Vladimir's Marked Luna - NovelsTime

Vladimir's Marked Luna

Chapter 49: Grandchild?

Author: Lilac_Everglade
updatedAt: 2025-10-08

CHAPTER 49: GRANDCHILD?

🌙𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐡

The silence that followed was suffocating.

The temperature in the room plummeted. Ice crystals formed on every surface, spreading from Vladimir like a winter storm contained in flesh. My breath came out in visible puffs.

Caesar placed the ring box on the center table between us, leaning back with an expression that made my stomach turn. Not a single ounce of remorse. Not one shred of apology for the pain he’d caused. Just smugness tinged with some sick, righteous frustration—as if *I* were being unreasonable.

As if he were doing me a favor.

I sat there, flabbergasted by the sheer audacity. The temerity of this man to walk into Vladimir’s house, interrupt what was supposed to be my wedding day, call me a rebound-seeking fool, and then—*and then*—propose marriage like he was offering me salvation.

But then it hit me.

I caused this.

Years of being the doormat. The stupid girl who bent and broke and molded herself into whatever shape he needed. Easy to buckle. Ready to please and submit. That was what he’d seen during our entire relationship. That was what he expected now.

Of course he would pull this shit. It made perfect sense.

I glanced at Vladimir, wondering why he wasn’t speaking. Wasn’t this disrespectful? But then I remembered—old rules might not apply here. Caesar was an Alpha. Vladimir was the High Alpha. Maybe there were protocols I didn’t understand. Maybe Vladimir was waiting to see what I would do.

The thought steadied me.

"Seven months," I said, my voice cutting through the cold air.

Caesar’s brow furrowed. "What?"

"My sister, Charlotte." My voice grew stronger, louder. "She’s seven months pregnant with your child."

For the first time since entering the room, even Lady Cassandra stirred, her composed mask cracking just slightly. This was news to her too.

Caesar’s face cycled through emotions—surprise flashing first, then morphing into something infinitely annoyed. "That is not true."

"Isn’t it?" I leaned forward slightly. "You were sleeping with both of us at the same time. Don’t insult my intelligence by denying it now."

My voice remained calm. Eerily so. "Not only did you destroy me by sleeping with my sister—of all people—in my home, in my bed. Then you turned it all on me, called me..." I shuddered, the memory of those words still sharp as broken glass. "The most egregious things. And you left her pregnant. Abandoned her after putting a baby in her."

"I gave her money for a termination," Caesar blurted out.

The room went silent. Even the crackling ice seemed to still.

Lady Cassandra’s head whipped toward her son so fast I heard her neck crack. "You did what?"

Then I laughed. Not a bitter laugh, not a sad one—a genuine, incredulous laugh that bubbled up from somewhere deep in my chest.

"Your son," I said, turning to address Cassandra directly, "gave my sister money to terminate a pregnancy. Knowing damn well she shreds through money like a trust fund baby." I shook my head. "That money was gone in a week. Handbags. Spa days. Whatever Charlotte wanted in the moment."

I turned back to Caesar, who had gone pale. "And you didn’t tell your mother she’s going to be a grandmother in two months?"

For the first time since entering the room, Caesar wasn’t smug. His jaw worked, his fists clenched, and he muttered under his breath, barely audible: "That bitch—"

"You fucked," I finished for him, my voice cutting and clear.

The ice spread further across the floor. Vladimir still hadn’t moved, but I could feel the cold radiating from him intensifying.

Lady Cassandra stood slowly, her elegant composure fracturing. "Caesar. Tell me this girl is lying."

But he couldn’t. His silence was answer enough.

I turned to face Cassandra fully, something cold and determined settling in my chest. "That child," I said quietly, "will suffer immensely in the Brooks household."

Cassandra’s eyes snapped to mine.

"My family is drowning in debt," I continued, each word deliberate. "My brother is a gambler who’s lost more money than most people will ever see. My aunt is an alcoholic. My uncle—" I swallowed hard. "My uncle has put his hands on more than one woman in that house and gotten away with it because everyone’s too afraid or too complicit to stop him."

Caesar shifted uncomfortably, but I didn’t let him interrupt.

"They’re liars. Manipulators. Snakes who would sell that baby’s future for a quick buck if they thought they could get away with it." The words tasted like ash in my mouth. It hurt—God, it hurt to speak of them this way, to lay bare the rot at the heart of the family I’d tried so hard to protect, to pretend was normal. "Charlotte is irresponsible and selfish. She’ll use that child as a bargaining chip, a way to extract money and attention. And your grandchild will grow up in chaos."

My throat tightened. "My only true family—my mother—is in an urn upstairs. Everyone else? They’re just people I happen to share blood with."

Lady Cassandra went very pale. Her hands, previously folded elegantly in her lap, curled into fists so tight her knuckles went white. The anger radiating from her was palpable, though her expression barely shifted—a slight tightening around her eyes, a barely perceptible flare of her nostrils.

"And you knew," I said, looking back at Caesar. "You knew what kind of family I came from. You knew Charlotte. You knew what would happen if you left her pregnant. And you did it anyway."

"That’s enough," Caesar said, his voice sharp.

"Is it?" I leaned forward. "Your mother deserves to know what kind of situation her grandchild is being born into. What kind of man her son—"

"Some hybrid disgrace is not my responsibility!" Caesar snapped, his composure finally shattering completely. "I gave her money to handle it. What she chose to do with it is on her, not me!"

The room went utterly still.

I smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile. "Hybrid disgrace," I repeated slowly. "Interesting choice of words, Caesar. Considering I’m hybrid too." I tilted my head. "You know that. Yet here you are, ring in hand, begging me to marry you."

His jaw clenched. "I am not begging,"

I ignored him. "It’s not about me at all, is it?" I continued, my voice growing stronger. "It’s about your ego. You can’t stand that I’ve moved on. That I’m here, in this house, with someone who actually sees me as more than a convenient plaything. You thought you could waltz in here, wave a ring around, and I’d just—what? Fall at your feet? Thank you for the honor?"

I stood up, the iridescent fabric of my dress catching the light. "Let me make something crystal clear, since apparently you need it spelled out. I would rather face Veronique tomorrow and die fighting than spend another second pretending you’re anything other than what you are—a coward who destroys everything he touches."

Caesar’s face flushed red. "Lilith—"

"No." My voice cracked like a whip. "You don’t get to say my name anymore. You lost that right when you slept with my sister in my bed. When you called me pathetic, desperate, worthless. When you made me believe I was the problem, that I was the one who wasn’t enough." There were other things he said but I would never want to go there, not now.

My chest heaved, emotions I’d kept locked down for months pouring out. "I am done being your doormat. Done being the girl you can manipulate and control and come crawling back to when it’s convenient. You want someone to marry? Go marry Charlotte. She’s carrying your child. Or is a hybrid disgrace not worth your precious bloodline?"

The words hung in the air like daggers.

"My fiancée," Vladimir’s voice cut through the tension, cold and absolute, "has made her stance crystal clear."

I turned to look at him, startled. Fiancée. He’d called me his fiancée. Even with the bond severed, even with the wedding interrupted, even with everything in chaos—he’d claimed me anyway.

Vladimir uncrossed his arms and stood, towering over everyone in the room. Ice spread from where he’d been sitting, creeping across the furniture. "It seems you and your mother will need a family meeting when you return to your pack. To discuss what responsibilities you’ve been... neglecting." The jab was more of a stab.

Lady Cassandra stood as well, her face a mask of barely controlled fury—not at us, but at her son. "Indeed. We have much to discuss, Alpha Caesar." She spat the word ’Alpha’ like it was a slur.

"I suggest," Vladimir continued, his tone making it clear this was not a suggestion at all, "that you take your leave now. You’ve wasted enough of our time."

He turned to Lady Cassandra, and his expression softened slightly—professional courtesy between two people of power. "Lady Cassandra, it was a pleasure to see you again despite the circumstances. I trust you’ll handle this matter with the wisdom you’re known for."

She inclined her head, her movements stiff. "High Alpha. Thank you for your... hospitality. And your discretion." Her eyes cut to me. "Ms. Brooks. I apologize for my son’s behavior. It seems I’ve failed in certain aspects of his education." But her voice did not match her expression. Her gaze on me was piercing.

The admission hung heavy in the air.

This was Alpha being scolded.

Caesar looked between his mother, Vladimir, and me—deflated, furious, humiliated. He grabbed the ring box from the table and shoved it back in his pocket. "This isn’t over."

"Yes," I said quietly. "It is."

Vladimir’s hand came to rest on the small of my back—not possessive, just... present. A reminder that I wasn’t alone.

Caesar and his mother left without another word, the door closing behind them with a decisive click.

And then it was just Vladimir and me, standing in a room coated with ice, my chest still heaving from everything I’d finally said.

"Fiancée," I whispered, looking up at him.

His glacier eyes met mine. "Did you object to the term?"

I shook my head slowly. "No. I just... wasn’t expecting it."

"You defended yourself well," he said simply. "That required acknowledgment."

"You didn’t interfer with his proposal," I murmured. "You let him." There was no accusation in my voice.

"You have a goal, I wanted know if you had the will. Seems you do."

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