Chapter 17 - SEVENTY-TWO HOURSCaden moved Blackwater Hill into war posture before the court transcript was even filed.
The gates were reinforced. Roads were blocked. Guards doubled. Drones circled above the trees. Every staff member was re-vetted, every delivery searched, every window sensor tested twice.
Elena watched it all from the nursery balcony with Mila on her hip and Sofia pressed against her leg.
It should have made her feel safer.
It did not.
Seventy-two hours.
That was what the judge had given them before review.
Seventy-two hours to prove stability.
Seventy-two hours before Crane, somewhere free in the world, tried to turn their lives into evidence against them.
Caden entered the nursery at noon carrying a tray.
Elena blinked.
“You brought food?”
“Yes.”
“For the children?”
“For you.”
She looked at the bowl of soup and bread.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“I said I’m not hungry.”
Caden set the tray on the table. “I heard you.”
“Then why bring it?”
“Because I am learning that hearing you and obeying you are not always the same thing.”
Despite herself, Elena almost smiled.
“Careful. That sounded like a joke.”
“It won’t happen often.”
Mila reached toward him.
Caden froze.
Elena saw the fear cross his face.
Not fear of rejection.
Fear of doing the wrong thing.
“Hold your hands out,” she said softly.
He obeyed.
Elena passed Mila carefully into his arms.
The baby stiffened at first, then stared at him with solemn hazel eyes. Caden held her like she was made of glass and royal law.
“She won’t break,” Elena said.
“I might.”
That answer silenced her.
Mila touched his collar.
“Pa,” she whispered.
Caden closed his eyes.
Sofia tugged Elena’s dress. “Papa cry?”
Elena brushed curls from Sofia’s forehead. “Papa’s heart is learning.”
Caden looked at her then.
Something passed between them.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Something more dangerous.
Trust beginning in a room where neither of them could afford it.
That night, Elena slept for the first time at Blackwater Hill.
Not well.
Not deeply.
But with four children breathing around her and Caden sitting in a chair beside the door, refusing to leave even after she told him he looked ridiculous sleeping upright.
At 2:17 a.m., Luca woke screaming.
Elena reached him first.
Caden rose second.
The boy pointed toward the hallway.
“Man,” he cried.
Caden’s gun was in his hand instantly.
Elena pulled all four children into the center of the mattress.
The hallway lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then went out.
Caden pressed a finger to his lips.
From somewhere downstairs came the sound of glass breaking.
Then a voice over the mansion intercom.
Crane.
“Seventy-two hours, Caden? How generous of the court.”
Elena’s blood turned cold.
Caden stepped into the hall.
Elena grabbed his sleeve.
“No.”
He looked back.
“If you chase him, we’re alone.”
The words stopped him.
A year ago, maybe he would have run toward the threat.
Tonight, he looked at his children.
Then stayed.
Crane’s voice continued, smooth and amused.
“You cannot guard every door. You cannot trust every servant. You cannot undo blood with court orders.”
Caden took out his phone and typed quickly.
Elena whispered, “Where is he?”
“Not inside.”
“How do you know?”
“Because if he were inside, he would not announce himself.”
Another window shattered below.
A guard shouted.
The children began crying.
Elena held them close and started singing.
Her voice shook at first.
Then steadied.
The same lullaby her mother had sung when Elena was small. The one Isabel had carried from a life she never explained.
Hush now, little storm,
morning finds the brave…
Caden looked at her strangely.
“What?” she whispered.
“My mother used to hum that.”
Elena stopped.
“She knew it from my father’s docks,” Caden said. “Workers sang it.”
“My mother sang it too.”
Their eyes met.
Isabel Voss. The port ledgers. The old photograph.
The past was not finished with them.
The intercom crackled again.
Crane’s voice had changed.
“You shouldn’t sing songs you don’t understand, Elena.”
A chill ran through her.
Caden moved toward the wall panel and ripped it open, killing the intercom feed.
Silence.
Then Ortega’s voice came through Caden’s phone.
“Boss, west gate breach was a decoy. We found a package at the nursery balcony.”
Elena’s heart stopped.
Caden crossed to the balcony doors.
A white box sat outside.
No one had heard it placed there.
Caden opened the door carefully, weapon raised.
Inside the box was a music box.
Old. Wooden. Carved with roses.
Elena recognized it before she knew why.
Her mother had owned one just like it.
Caden lifted the lid.
The same lullaby played.
Beneath the tiny spinning rose lay a folded note.
Caden read it.
His face went pale.
Elena took it from him.
The handwriting was elegant.
Isabel hid the ledger in the only place a mother would trust. Ask Elena what her mother gave away before she died.
Elena’s breath caught.
Her mother had given away only one thing before she died.
May you like
A cheap silver locket.
Elena wore it around her neck now.
