The rain hadn't stopped since the scandal broke.
It beat against the mansion windows like fingers drumming on glass, impatient and merciless, a storm without a pause. Inside, Selene tried to keep the twins' laughter alive, to fill the halls with sound instead of whispers. But fear was a living thing now. It hid in corners, waited behind every ring of the phone, every knock on the door.
Alexander had tripled the security detail overnight. Cameras, guards, alarms, everything. Yet Selene couldn't shake the feeling that their home had become a gilded cage.
That morning, she stood in the kitchen pouring juice into two small glasses when Zara tugged her sleeve.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Why are there men outside the gate again? The ones in black coats?"
Selene froze. The orange juice nearly overflowed. "What men?"
Zane was already peeking through the window blinds. "They've been there since we came down for breakfast."
Her heart lurched. She set the jug down carefully, voice steady despite the panic in her pulse. "Stay away from the windows, both of you."
Zane frowned. "But…"
"Please," she said softly. "Do it for Mommy."
He obeyed. They always did when she used that tone, the one that carried the quiet tremor of danger.
She grabbed her phone, dialing before she could think.
"Damian," she said when the assistant answered, "there are men outside the estate. Not the usual guards."
"I'll alert Mr. Knight immediately. Stay inside, Ms. Brooks. Don't open the doors for anyone."
The line went dead before she could reply.
Selene turned to the twins, forcing a smile that felt like a lie. "Why don't we play in the den today? No garden, it's too rainy."
Zara pouted but nodded. Zane, the more observant of the two, didn't argue. He kept glancing at the windows, his small brow furrowed.
They settled in the den. She put on a movie, something bright and animated, and sat between them, one arm around each. Her mind was miles away.
Victoria's move had been brutal. Public statements, veiled accusations, and now, watchers. She didn't need proof to know this was orchestrated. The message was simple: You don't belong in his world.
But she wouldn't leave. Not now.
Not when her children's safety was on the line.
By the time Alexander returned that evening, the storm outside had turned violent, sheets of rain, wind howling through the trees like something ancient and angry.
He found her in the den, lights dimmed, twins asleep on the couch. Her shoulders were rigid.
"Selene," he said quietly.
She didn't turn. "They were outside again."
"I know." His tone was low, clipped, the kind of calm that came before destruction. "Damian informed me."
"And?"
"They're gone."
Her head snapped toward him. "Gone?"
He loosened his tie, jaw set. "Escorted off the premises."
"By who?"
"My men."
"And you think that's enough?" she demanded, rising to her feet. "What if they come back? What if—"
"They won't."
The certainty in his voice both comforted and frightened her. There was steel there — too much.
She stepped closer, eyes flashing. "You can't just scare everyone away, Alexander. You can't fight shadows."
"Watch me."
The answer came without pause, dangerous in its simplicity.
She stared at him, searching for the man she used to know, the one who'd made her laugh between stolen kisses, who'd looked at her like she was the only person that existed in a room full of noise.
But this man wasn't just Alexander anymore. He was Knight. The billionaire. The weapon forged from power and control.
And now, he was angry.
He moved to the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. "I told you they'd come for us," he said quietly. "And I told you I'd handle it."
"Handle it?" She laughed bitterly. "By what? Buying silence? Intimidating whoever looks our way? That's not handling, Alexander, that's burying."
His gaze cut to her, sharp and unyielding. "You think I don't know the difference?"
"Do you?"
"Don't push me, Selene."
"Then tell me what you're doing," she whispered. "Tell me why there are strangers outside the gate scaring my children."
He exhaled through his nose, pacing once before he answered. "Because Victoria doesn't play fair. She's feeding the tabloids. She's painting you as a threat, a gold digger, a liar, the reason I've lost control."
Selene's throat went dry. "And people believe her?"
"People believe what they're paid to."
She swallowed hard. "And the twins?"
He hesitated. "She's using them too. She hinted that they're… unsafe under your care."
Selene went pale. "She didn't."
"She did."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Selene pressed her hands to her temples. "This is insane. They're children. Innocent."
"That's why she's targeting them," he said softly. "Because she knows it'll break you."
Her breath caught. "Then what are we supposed to do?"
He turned fully then, eyes dark as storm clouds. "You'll do nothing."
She frowned. "Excuse me?"
"I'll handle everything. You stay here, with them."
"I'm not hiding," she snapped. "This isn't your business empire, Alexander. You can't just issue orders."
He closed the space between them, voice lowering to something dangerous but pleading. "It is my business now. Because it's my family."
Her eyes shimmered with tears she refused to shed. "You don't get to call us that just because it's convenient."
Something flickered in his expression pain, maybe, or guilt. He didn't deny it.
A sound interrupted them, faint, like glass breaking.
Both froze.
Then, from upstairs, a scream.
"Zara!"
Selene's heart stopped. She bolted, Alexander right behind her.
The twins' bedroom door was open. Zara stood by the window, crying, while Zane clung to her arm. A rock lay on the carpet, shattered glass around it. A note tied to it fluttered in the wind from the storm.
Selene's legs nearly gave out. Alexander caught her by the waist before she fell.
He went to the window, yanking the note free. His eyes skimmed it, then hardened into something lethal.
"What does it say?" she whispered.
He crushed the paper in his fist. "Nothing you'll ever need to read."
"Alexander…"
"Take them downstairs," he ordered. "Now."
His voice left no room for argument.
But Selene still saw it, the tremor in his hand, the faint crack in his control.
She gathered the twins, whispering soothing nonsense, heart pounding so hard it hurt. "It's okay, loves, you're safe, Mommy's got you…"
Downstairs, the guards were already on alert. Damian appeared moments later, soaked from the rain, phone pressed to his ear.
"Sir," he said breathlessly to Alexander, "we've identified the vehicle. Unmarked SUV, tinted windows. Plate's fake."
"Find them."
"We're trying. They vanished after the throw."
Alexander's jaw clenched. "Try harder."
Damian hesitated, then lowered his voice. "Sir, the note, it mentions Miss Brooks. By name."
Selene froze mid-step.
"What?" she whispered.
Alexander turned sharply. "That's enough, Damian."
But Selene stepped forward, her tone shaking. "Tell me. What did it say?"
Damian looked to his employer, torn.
"Tell me!"
The assistant swallowed. "It said… She should've stayed gone."
The room fell silent.
Zara whimpered, burying her face against Selene's side. Zane's little hand clutched his mother's wrist so tightly it hurt.
Selene's vision blurred. Fear had a taste, metallic and raw.
Alexander dismissed Damian with a glance. The moment the door closed, he turned back to her.
"This ends tonight," he said.
"How?" she whispered.
"I'll make sure they never come near you again."
Her tears fell now, not from weakness, but exhaustion. "You can't fight everyone, Alexander. You can't solve this with power."
He stepped closer, cupping her face in both hands, his touch rough, trembling. "Then tell me how, Selene. Because if something happens to you, to them, I won't survive it."
For a moment, she saw it, the truth beneath his armor. The desperation he hid behind fury and control.
She covered his hand with hers, voice breaking. "Then don't let this destroy who you are. They already want that."
But his eyes had gone distant again, cold steel setting in. "They want a war?" he murmured. "Then I'll give them one."
She shook her head. "Don't…"
"I told you," he interrupted, voice low and final, "no one touches what's mine."
The words were both promise and warning.
Outside, thunder cracked like the sky splitting in two.
Selene looked at him, truly looked, the man she'd once given herself to in stolen moments, now willing to burn the world to keep her safe.
It terrified her.
Because she could feel it too, that same dangerous love curling beneath her ribs, whispering that maybe he was right. Maybe nothing else mattered but keeping their children safe.
And yet, as she held Zara and Zane close, she knew something had already shifted.
This wasn't just scandal anymore. It was threat. It was message. It was personal.
She lifted her eyes to Alexander's. "Then be careful," she said softly. "Because whoever did this, they don't want your empire. They want to break your heart."
For once, his face betrayed him. A flicker of fear.
Then, resolve. "Let them try."
He pulled her close, not tenderly, but with the raw force of possession and protection tangled as one. She felt his heartbeat against her cheek, unsteady, human, defiant.
And in that moment, as lightning illuminated the shattered glass above them, Selene understood:
Power wasn't his weapon anymore. Love was.
And that made him far more dangerous.
Later that night, as the mansion finally quieted, a message lit up Damian's phone from an unknown number:
"Next time, it won't just be the window."