Chapter 307: Her Place

Lara stood alone on the balcony, gazing out over the sprawling garden below.

The evening breeze swept gently through her hair, carrying with it the faint fragrance of flowers. Silver moonlight spilled across the garden, painting the trees, winding paths, and flower beds in a soft, almost dreamlike glow.

"What are you thinking?"

Lara turned at the sound of the voice.

Ares stood several feet behind her, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

She hadn’t heard him approach.

For a moment, their eyes met.

"The moon is beautiful tonight," she said, almost too quickly.

One of Ares’s eyebrows lifted.

It was an obvious evasion.

Still, he turned his gaze toward the garden.

She wasn’t wrong.

The moon hung high in the cloudless sky, its pale beams bathing the grounds in a silvery glow. Under its light, the garden looked almost enchanted—too beautiful, too peaceful for the thoughts that seemed to weigh so heavily on Lara.

"Thank you for defending me. I heard it."

Lara gave him a cheerful smile. Then she looked back at the moon.

"You didn’t have to do that."

His expression changed slightly.

"But I did."

She looked at him.

"Why?"

Ares held her gaze.

Because was angry. Far more angry than the situation warranted.

He could still remember Moira’s expression when she had insulted Lara.

Something inside him snapped.

Ares finally spoke.

"No one has the right to humiliate you in my home."

Lara’s eyes softened.

"But you didn’t have to threaten to throw her out."

"I didn’t threaten her."

"You practically did."

"I meant what I said."

A faint smile tugged at Lara’s lips.

"You’re very intimidating and scary."

"I know."

She laughed softly. The sound eased something inside him.

Ares watched her in silence for a moment.

Then his gaze dropped to her hands.

They were clenched tightly together, as though she was trying to hold on to thoughts she wasn’t ready to voice.

Neither of them spoke.

Yet somehow, the silence between them felt heavier than words.

The few feet separating them seemed to disappear, leaving only the awareness of each other’s presence.

Ares finally moved.

He crossed the distance between them.

Then, he reached for her hands and gently drew them into his, his larger ones closing around hers. His touch was warm and steady, grounding her in the same familiar warmth from ages ago.

Lara looked up at him.

"Thank you."

His eyes remained on hers.

"You don’t need to thank me."

"Still..."

She hesitated.

"I appreciate it."

Something unreadable flickered in Ares’s eyes.

He looked away first.

"Come inside. It’s getting cold."

Lara smiled.

"You’re giving me another order?"

"Yes."

She shook her head, amused.

But she followed him.

...

Neither of them noticed the figure standing in the shadows of the balcony three rooms away.

Beatrice had seen everything.

She watched Ares go after Lara.

She had seen the way his usually cold voice softened when he spoke to her. The faint change in his expression. The way Lara had smiled at him without hesitation.

But it was the way Ares looked at her that unsettled Beatrice most.

That wasn’t simple courtesy.

There was something in his eyes—something warm, something almost protective.

Beatrice’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Why did it have to be Larissa Reyes?

Why couldn’t it have been her daughter?

Moira had been given every opportunity, yet somehow she managed to let another woman step into the place Beatrice had wanted for her.

And Ares was no longer the man he had been years ago.

He was becoming more powerful. Wealthier. More influential.

A man like that was not someone a woman simply let slip through her fingers.

Beatrice’s fingers tightened around the balcony railing.

She had been grateful for the accident years ago. A plot gone awry, yet, it had given her Shay, her precious granddaughter, and tied her family to the Zuvels in a way she or Moira could never have achieved on their own.

But even with that advantage, her daughter had failed to secure what mattered.

She couldn’t even marry one of the Zuvel brothers.

Not even Asher, Shay’s own biological father.

Beatrice’s eyes hardened.

"My daughter is truly useless."

The words left her in a bitter whisper.

She stepped out of the shadows and approached the railing, her gaze following the direction Ares and Lara had disappeared.

For years, Beatrice had known Ares as a man who kept everyone at a distance. He was difficult to approach, difficult to read, and even more difficult to win over.

Yet Larissa Reyes had somehow walked straight through those walls.

Without forcing her way in.

Without begging for his attention.

She had simply appeared in his life—and somehow, he had let her stay.

Beatrice’s eyes narrowed.

How?

And it wasn’t only Ares.

Even Shay had grown attached to Lara.

That alone was dangerous.

If Shay continued to favor Larissa, Moira’s position within the Zuvel family would become even more precarious.

Beatrice turned sharply and left the balcony.

Inside the adjoining room, Shay sat stiffly at the edge of the bed beside Moira, a book open in her hands.

She wasn’t reading.

Beatrice could tell from the way her eyes hadn’t moved across the page.

She was only pretending.

Moira rose and walked toward the vanity, her gaze settling on her own reflection.

Beatrice stopped behind her.

Their reflections stared back from the mirror.

For a moment, her expression was unreadable.

Then her eyes turned cold.

"If you want to remain part of this family," she said quietly, "you need to start thinking carefully."

Moira glanced at her through the mirror.

Beatrice leaned closer.

"Get closer to Asher. And more importantly, win Shay back."

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"Forget about Ares."

Moira’s lips parted, but before she could respond, a small voice came from behind them.

"Mommy Moira, can I go now?"

Shay had climbed off the bed. She hugged the book against her chest and looked up at her mother.

"I want to be with my Dad."

Moira hesitated.

She had originally intended for Shay to stay with her for the night. But one glance at her mother’s expression told her that Beatrice wanted to discuss something privately.

"Fine," she said at last. "But come back tomorrow."

Shay’s face brightened immediately.

"Okay!"

She hurried toward the door, barely able to contain her excitement.

Once the door closed behind her, Moira turned back to her mother.

"What is it, Mom?"