Chapter 141: I Did Not Know

When I spoke, even my mom froze.That alone told me how much I had changed.

In the past, I used to lower my head whenever the Wilchers spoke. I listened. I endured. I convinced myself they were elders who deserved respect simply because they were older and louder. Even when I was unhappy, I swallowed it. I didn’t challenge them. I didn’t push back.

But that Riley was gone.

I had already died once and crawled my way back. I wasn’t wasting this second life playing obedient anymore. Especially not for people who never saw me as family.

Certainly not the Wilchers.

Benjamin’s face twisted the moment my words landed.

"You little brat," he snapped. "What kind of nonsense is coming out of your mouth?"

The pressure in the room shifted. It wasn’t just anger. It was the kind of force that came from someone used to being obeyed. His stare was heavy, sharp, like he expected me to fold under it.

I didn’t.

Before he could continue, Lewis stepped forward.

His presence alone changed everything.

"The marriage between Riley and me was decided by the Hales and the Ashbournes," he said calmly. Too calmly. "It has nothing to do with the Wilchers."

His voice didn’t rise, but the authority behind it was unmistakable.

"Don’t you think you’ve overstepped, Mr. Wilcher?"

Benjamin’s lips twitched. "Hey," he barked, forcing a laugh. "You should be calling me Grandpa. Is this what the Hales teach their young?"

He straightened, clearly trying to assert himself in front of Lewis.

Then the front door opened.

Grant walked in carrying a box of pastries. The kind my mother liked. The kind he always brought when he wanted to stay in her good graces.

The moment he stepped inside, his shoulders stiffened.

He felt it.

The tension. The imbalance.

"What’s going on?" he asked while taking off his shoes. "Dad?"

Benjamin reacted instantly. His expression softened, his voice smoothing out like nothing had happened.

"Oh, nothing," he said lightly. "Just reminding the kids about manners."

I almost laughed.

Grant wasn’t just the Wilchers’ son-in-law. Everyone in that room knew who really held the resources. The Wilchers relied on him more than they would ever admit, and Benjamin treated him with a respect he never gave freely.

They still didn’t understand one thing.

Grant’s loyalty didn’t belong to them.

It belonged to the Hales.

Grant’s eyes flicked to Lewis. Cold. Sharp.

"Who are you," he asked Benjamin slowly, "to lecture anyone about manners?"

Benjamin stiffened. "Grant, the younger generation these days is becoming rude. No wonder he’s an illegitimate Hale. No discipline at all, speaking like that without "

Bang.

The pastry box slammed onto the table.

The sound cracked through the room.

Everyone froze.

Even Benjamin faltered, his confidence breaking for the first time.

Grant’s expression darkened. The air around him felt heavy, like a warning no one dared ignore.

"Do you need to interfere in our pack’s bond with the Hales?" he said coldly. "Dad, you’re losing your sense."

Benjamin opened his mouth, then shut it again.

"Don’t you remember?" Grant continued. "You were the one who wanted to collaborate with Atlas Group. You wanted their backing."

His gaze snapped to Lewis.

"He’s the chairman."

Silence.

Benjamin’s face drained of color.

Lewis had stayed out of the spotlight for years, operating quietly, letting others handle the surface work. That mistake had cost Benjamin everything in this moment.

"I... I didn’t know," Benjamin stammered.

Grant didn’t soften.

"I asked you to bring Will here to help Lena stabilize emotionally," he said sharply. "Did you really think this was the time to create problems?"

Even he couldn’t afford to offend the Hales.

The room was suffocating until my mom stepped in, her voice gentle but firm.

"The food is ready," she said. "You’ve all traveled far. Let’s eat first."

Everyone agreed quickly.

Dinner felt like a performance.

They ignored my pregnant mother entirely and poured their attention onto Lewis instead. Compliments. Toasts. Forced laughter.

I watched quietly, realizing how familiar this was. When power sat at the table, blood ties meant nothing.

Lewis wasn’t fond of them. I could feel it in the way his jaw tightened. Still, because they were my mom’s family, he stayed polite.

He accepted their toasts one by one.

And for reasons I didn’t fully understand, I felt a flicker of jealousy.

When I reached for my wine, Lewis covered my glass without even looking at me.

"Riley doesn’t handle alcohol well," he said. "I’ll drink for her."

I blinked. "I can manage half a glass."

His brow furrowed, like he thought I was testing him.

"Just half," I whispered, tugging at his sleeve under the table. "We’re home."

After a pause, he gave in.

I sipped slowly, careful at first. The wine was smooth, rich, warming my chest as it went down.

Half a glass became a little more.

When Lewis got distracted, I stole a few extra sips.

I knew my limits.

I just didn’t care tonight.

After dinner, Lena claimed she was tired and disappeared into her room. I could tell she was avoiding the elders. Their voices always carried pressure, the kind that tried to bend you without touching you.

Grant arranged for the Wilchers to stay in the guest house. He didn’t say much, but his tone left no room for argument.

When the staff began clearing the table, I slipped back to my room and turned on the shower.

I thought I was fine. I hadn’t drunk that much. I even remember telling myself I was more tolerant than before.

I was wrong.

The next thing I knew, I was sinking into sleep with warm water around me, my head tilted back against the tub.

I don’t know how long passed before I felt someone pinch my nose.

"Little drunkard," a familiar voice murmured. "Are you asleep?"

"Stop," I mumbled, waving my hand blindly. "It tickles."

"You’ll get sick if you stay here."

I turned my face away, too heavy to open my eyes. I heard a quiet sigh beside me, low and patient.

The water drained. Warm spray replaced it.

Strong hands steadied me. Gentle, careful. He washed the foam from my skin like it was something precious, like I might shatter if he moved too fast.

I didn’t resist.

Something deep inside me recognized him. Trusted him.

When he was done, I felt a towel wrap around me. My hair was dried slowly, the air barely warm. He took his time, like he was afraid of waking something fragile.

Then I was lifted.

Placed on the bed.

"Darling," he whispered. "Give me your hand."

His breath brushed my cheek. Familiar. Safe.

I reached out without thinking.

"This one?" I asked sleepily, stretching both hands toward him.

I felt cool fabric slide over my skin as he dressed me. Silk. Light. His movements were unhurried, respectful, but there was tension beneath it. Like restraint.

I blinked my eyes open and looked at him.

"Lewis," I asked softly. "Is it dark outside?"

"Yes," he said. "Why? Are you thirsty?"

"Yes."

The word felt heavier than it should have.

Night always did something to me. To us.

My gaze drifted to his lips without permission. The dryness in my throat wasn’t about water anymore.

"Stay here," he said. "I’ll get you "

I caught his wrist and pulled.

He didn’t resist.

He lay back on the bed, watching me with those sharp, knowing eyes. Calm on the surface. Coiled underneath.

"What’s wrong?" he asked.

I climbed over him, settling my weight against his waist. My instincts hummed, warm and restless.

"I’m thirsty," I said again.

Then I leaned down and kissed him.

He stiffened for half a second, caught off guard. Then his hand slid to my waist, firm, grounding. The air between us thickened, carrying heat and the faint trace of wine.

"Darling," he warned softly. "If you keep talking like that, I won’t be able to stop myself."

I frowned, confused. "Stop what? I already got a second chance at life. Why should I hold back?"

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "That’s not what I meant."

"Then what?" I asked.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing my shoulder, his voice low and intimate.

"Darling," he murmured, "shall we begin our lesson now?"

And something deep inside me answered before I did.