The Discarded Ex-Wife's Glorious Fragrance Comeback

Julian stood over the leather sofa. His towering frame cast a dark shadow over the two children. The muscle in his jaw feathered. He was furious. "Do you have any idea what you just did?" Julian's voice was low, cold, and completely devoid of any paternal warmth. "Running away from your security detail in a public terminal. Completely unacceptable." The freezing tone hit Silas like a bucket of ice water. She shrank back into the cushions. Her bottom lip trembled. She instinctively reached out and grabbed the back of Gideon's jacket, hiding behind him. Her large eyes filled with hot tears. Gideon didn't flinch. He tilted his head back and met Julian's terrifying stare head-on. His small hands curled into tight fists at his sides. The protective instinct for his sister burned hot in his chest. Instead of looking down and apologizing like Peregrine would have, Gideon let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "If you're so busy being important," Gideon sneered, his voice dripping with a calculated, childish defiance, "why did you even bother coming to find us? Why don't you go back to that smelly Livia woman? Mom says bad women wear that kind of perfume, and she's always acting like she's hurt just to get attention!" The words exploded in the quiet room like a bomb. Behind Julian, Blackwood gasped loudly. The assistant's eyes bugged out of his head. He looked at the boy as if he had just grown a second head. Julian's entire body went rigid. The sharp lines of his face tightened in absolute shock. His dark eyes widened a fraction. He stared at his son, unable to process the blatant disrespect. Peregrine had never, ever spoken to him like this. Julian took a heavy step forward. His oppressive aura crashed down on Gideon. "Who taught you to speak like that?" Julian demanded, his voice dropping an octave. Gideon didn't back down an inch. He pushed his chest out. "No one has to teach me the truth. Livia is a fake. She's a hypocrite, and she doesn't deserve to be anywhere near us." The sheer disrespect stung Julian. He reached his large hand out, intending to grab the boy's shoulder and force him to sit down. Gideon saw the hand coming. He twisted his torso sharply, dodging the grip with surprising speed. Silas saw the man reach for her brother. The fear in her chest vanished, replaced instantly by pure, hot anger. She couldn't take it anymore. She jumped up onto the sofa cushions. She threw her arms out wide, physically blocking Julian from Gideon. "You big jerk! Stop bullying my brother!" Silas screamed at the top of her lungs. Her clear, high-pitched voice bounced off the walls of the VIP lounge. Time stopped. Julian's outstretched hand froze mid-air. The anger on his face shattered, instantly replaced by a look of absolute, paralyzing disbelief. Behind him, the heavy file folder slipped from Blackwood's hands. It hit the floor with a loud slap. Blackwood's jaw literally dropped open. Because in their world, Isolde Astor-Vance had severe PTSD. She suffered from selective mutism. She had not spoken a single syllable in three agonizing years. Julian's breathing turned ragged. His hand began to shake visibly. He slowly pulled his arm back and sank down onto his knees, bringing himself to eye level with the furious little girl. "Isolde?" Julian whispered. His voice cracked. It was so fragile it sounded like it would break. He stared at her mouth, his eyes rapidly filling with red veins. "Did you... did you just speak?" Silas looked at the massive, terrifying man who was suddenly looking at her like she was a miracle. She felt a spike of panic. She didn't know what to do. She turned her head and looked at Gideon for help. Gideon's brain screamed red alerts. He realized instantly what had happened. The girl they were pretending to be must be mute. Silas had just blown their cover. Gideon shot Silas a desperate, hard glare. He tapped his own lips twice with his finger. Silas understood immediately. She snapped her mouth shut. She pressed her lips together so hard they turned white. She shook her head violently, grabbed Gideon's arm, and buried her face into his chest, refusing to look at Julian again. Julian reached out, his fingers trembling, trying to touch her arm. "Isolde, please. Say it again. Just one word." Silas remained completely silent. She acted like a stone wall. The desperate hope in Julian's eyes slowly died out. The light faded, leaving behind a crushing, heavy darkness. He closed his eyes tight, swallowing the bitter taste of disappointment. He assumed she had just had a momentary panic response and retreated right back into her traumatic shell. He stood up. The cold, impenetrable armor slammed back into place. "Have the cars brought around," Julian ordered Blackwood, his voice dead. "We are going back to the Manhattan apartment." Gideon grabbed Silas's hand. He followed the tall, broad back of the man out of the lounge. A strange, uncomfortable feeling twisted in Gideon's chest. The man was a monster, but the pain in his eyes had been real. Across the city, Seraphina and Zara walked into the lobby of a hyper-luxury Manhattan hotel. They approached the marble front desk to check in. Before Seraphina could open her purse, Peregrine stepped forward. He reached into her open bag, pulled out her passport, and slid it across the marble counter to the receptionist. He stood perfectly straight, waiting for the key cards like a trained butler. Zara watched this with her mouth hanging open. She leaned in close to Seraphina's ear. "Sera," Zara whispered, "I think your kid got possessed by a sixty-year-old accountant." Seraphina stared at the rigid, overly mature posture of her son. The cold knot of suspicion in her stomach tightened. Something was deeply, fundamentally wrong. She decided she was going to interrogate him the second they got into the room.