FOREVER MINE

C H A P T E R 38

ANGELA
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Elijah’s mansion feels… wrong.Too quiet.
Too still. Like the walls themselves are holding their breath.

The moment we step inside, I feel it - the shift. The weight. The absence.

He should be here. Leaning against something. Holding my hand. Waiting... Anything.

But he’s not....

“She’s been waiting in the main hall,” one of the guards says quietly as we walk in.
Of course she has.

My steps slow as we approach. For the first time since the explosion, something twists in my chest.

Cynthia stands the second she sees us.
Her eyes search the room instantly, skipping over me, over Dante, over everyone...looking for him.

“Where is he?” she asks immediately, her voice tight with urgency.

No greeting. No hesitation. Just one question.

Elijah.

No one answers. Not right away at least.

And that silence - it’s too loud. Too telling. Her expression falters just slightly.

“Where is my son?” she repeats, sharper this time. I've never seen this side of her and it already breaks my heart all over again.

Her eyes land on Dante. Because if anyone would know. It would be him.

Dante doesn’t move for a second and I see it. That hesitation. That rare, unfamiliar uncertainty. It doesn’t belong to him. But it’s there anyway and I hate it. Dante isn't the same and there's so many reasons why that is and that makes my chest tighten even more.

“He...” Dante starts, then stops. Cynthia takes a step forward.

“No,” she says quickly, shaking her head before he can even finish. “No, don’t - don’t say it like that.” Her breathing picks up, uneven now.

“He told me he was coming back.” Her voice cracks - but she keeps going. “He promised me.”

The word hits harder than it should. Promise.

Dante exhales slowly, running a hand down his face before forcing himself to speak.“There was an explosion,” he says carefully. “The building-”

“I know there was an explosion, Dante!” she snaps, her composure cracking.
Her hands tremble at her sides. “But that was part of the plan.”

The room stills.

Every single person in it goes quiet.

Cynthia looks at all of us like we’re the ones not understanding. “He planned everything,” she continues, her voice steadier now - stronger, like she’s holding onto something unshakable. “The attack at my party. The timing. The exits. The extraction. Your kidnapping...”

Her eyes shine, but she doesn’t let the tears fall. “He made sure we were safe.”

A beat.

“And he made sure he would be too.”

Something shifts. Subtle but real.

Dante’s brows furrow slightly. You knew about....everything?” he asks slowly.

Cynthia looks at him like the answer is obvious. “I mean everything,” she says. “Elijah doesn’t leave loose ends. He doesn’t gamble with lives - especially not his own.”