Page 40 of The Silent War
“Don’t,” Alexander eyes sharpened. “Don’t try to sanctify this with his memory. He blindsided me. Blindsided the dynasty. Handed twelve generations of power to a girl who can’t hold her wine without fainting.”
That was one time and it wasn’t the wine it was the micro-dosed lip balm. Charlotte was still experimenting with the doses.
“You think this is some… compliment? It isn’t. It’s a fracture. And fractures get exploited until they shatter.”
“What if I keep it?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed. A silence, sharp as glass, stretched between us.
Then he laughed. Cold without humor.
“If you keep it, you’ll be dead within a year.” He leaned forward, palms flat on glass. “And when you die, it passes back into the dynasty anyway. That’s the law. You think you’ll outmaneuver dynasties older than Villain itself? You think the syndicates won’t gut you just to make a point? You’re not untouchable, Emilia. You’re bait.”
The words hollowed me.
But I refused to look away.
“Then maybe I’ll learn.”
“No. You’ll be used. That’s the difference. You’ve never run manifests through Estalia in winter. Never bribed a syndicate port with blood instead of money. Never stared down Captains who’d slit your throat just to check if Adams blood runs red like theirs.”
“Don’t be naïve.” He glared at the folder for a moment. “This isn’t about you. It’s about us. About the Adams line. Our father’s corridor is our spine, and I will not let you turn it into a personal experiment in rebellion.”
“So that’s it?” I asked. “You’re already planning to take it back?”
“I don’t have to plan,” he said coldly. “If you’re married, the corridor transfers to your husband. That’s how it works. I’ll find the right man, and through him the Accord will come home.”
I stared at my name across the table.
“But I don’t want to fight you, Emmy.”
The childhood name gutted me. He hadn’t called me that in years.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he went on. “Father left you something too big. Too dangerous. I’m the only one who can carry it without getting us both killed. That doesn’t mean you lose everything. It means you survive.”
My chest tightened.
He saw it.
“One heir,” he said carefully. “That’s all it takes. One contract. One child registered into the Codex. And then? You’re done. Retired. I’ll make sure the man knows his place. He takes a fraction, not the whole. You keep your safety. Your freedom. No dynasty stage, no endless tours. By twenty-five, you’re out. You get to vanish. That’s better than Father ever gave Mother.”
I went still. Because part of me wanted to believe him.
And he knew it.
“It’s not punishment,” Alexander said. “It’s protection. I’ll find someone who doesn’t humiliate you. Who understands you’re an Adams, not a pawn. Better I choose than leave you to men who’ll take it all.”
His eyes held mine. But there was something else underneath — conviction. The kind that made him sound almost merciful.
“You think I’m the enemy. I’m not. I’m the one standing between you and the wolves.”
I wanted to scream again. Wanted to call him liar. Manipulator. Dynasty first, brother second.
But the words stayed stuck in my throat.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
And that was the worst part.
