Chapter 303
Clack!
Sandro blocked her.
Clack! Clack!
Their wooden swords met again and again as they moved across the lawn, each trying to outmaneuver the other.
Lara watched with an amused smile.
They had clearly been practicing.
Shay’s movements were still a little too enthusiastic, while Sandro was more measured, patiently waiting for an opening. But compared to the last time Lara had seen them play with their wooden swords, there was a noticeable difference.
They were actually learning.
Even Midnight seemed to take the demonstration seriously.
The black wolf pup circled the children as they fought, occasionally darting between them before quickly jumping away when a wooden sword came swinging in his direction.
Lara laughed.
“Midnight, you’re supposed to be watching, not getting yourself killed.”
The wolf merely wagged his tail.
Ares shook his head.
“He thinks he’s part of the training.”
“He probably does.”
…
A memory suddenly surfaced in Ares’ mind.
It was faint, almost slipping away before he could catch it.
He remembered sitting on the grass beside Lara, their shoulders brushing as their fingers intertwined. Together, they watched the seven-year-old boy and girl pair spar with wooden swords a few meters away.
Their firstborn twins in another lifetime.
Ares glanced at Lara and gently tightened his hold on her hand.
“Lara,” he said, almost casually, “let’s get married.”
Lara turned to him, clearly caught off guard.
For a moment, she simply stared at him. Then a small, disbelieving laugh escaped her.
“Are you serious?” she asked. “I’m only twenty-two.”
There was no rejection in her voice, only surprise. She looked toward the children, then back at him.
“I still have so many things I want to do.” She hesitated, her fingers shifting slightly in his grasp. “And the Norse family hasn’t even acknowledged me yet.”
Ares’ fingers tightened around hers.
“Back then, a woman at twenty-two was already considered an old maid.”
Lara laughed softly.
“Maybe back then.” She leaned her head lightly against his shoulder. “But things are different now.”
She paused, then gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“So… wait a little longer, okay?”
Ares studied her face.
She wasn’t saying no. She simply wasn’t ready.
After a moment, the tension in his hand eased.
“All right,” he said quietly.
Lara smiled, relieved by how easily he accepted it.
Ares turned his attention back to Shay and Sandro just as another clash of wooden swords rang across the lawn.
For a while, neither of them said anything.
Their hands remained intertwined.
Finally, Shay managed to disarm Sandro.
The wooden sword flew from his hand and landed in the grass.
Shay immediately threw both hands into the air.
“I won!”
Sandro groaned, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Lara applauded.
“Well done, both of you. You’ve improved so much.”
Shay beamed.
“Did you really mean it?”
“I did.”
Lara looked between them, then an idea occurred to her.
“Would you like to come watch me film?”
Both children immediately went still.
Shay’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
“There are scenes where the female lead is trained by a master swordsman. You’ll get to see how we do it.”
“I want to!”
Shay practically bounced where she stood.
Sandro said nothing, but the hopeful look he gave Lara was impossible to miss.
Lara smiled.
“You’ll have to ask your Daddy first.”
Shay’s enthusiasm dimmed for only a second.
Then she turned toward Ares.
“Daddy?”
Ares already seemed to know what was coming.
“Can I come and watch Mommy film?”
“No.”
His answer was immediate and final.
Shay stared at him. Ares folded his arms.
“No means no.”
She didn’t argue. She didn’t pout. She didn’t even complain.
Instead, she slowly walked over to him and wrapped both arms around his waist.
“Daddy, please.”
Ares looked down at her.
Shay tilted her head back.
Her eyes grew impossibly large and innocent.
The kind of eyes that could probably convince a man to hand over his entire fortune without a second thought.
Ares lasted three seconds.
“All right, all right.”
Shay’s face exploded into a grin.
“You can come.”
“Yay!”
She threw her arms around him.
Lara covered her smile with one hand.
Ares shot her a look.
“Don’t laugh.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“A little.”
Ares sighed.
He had survived boardroom wars, ruthless enemies, and situations where one wrong decision could get him killed.
Apparently, none of those had prepared him for his daughter’s greatest weapon.
Those eyes.
He was completely defenseless against them.
…
Moira just returned from a grueling day on set when she wandered toward the garden, her body exhausted but her mind still buzzing with the day’s work.
Then she stopped.
In the open stretch of grass, Shay and Sandro were practicing with wooden swords. The sight of her daughter caught Moira off guard. Shay looked adorable in her boots, leggings, and white cropped top—confident, lively, almost effortlessly charming.
A slow smile curved across Moira’s lips.
Gary Vice’s offer suddenly came rushing back to her.
A mother-daughter endorsement.
For Spirit, no less—a famous clothing brand whose campaigns could turn ordinary faces into overnight sensations.
Moira’s imagination took flight.
She could already see the photographs: her and Shay side by side, both beautiful, both perfectly styled. The cameras. The headlines. The advertisements plastered across billboards. The money that would come pouring in.
Most of all, she imagined the attention…the fame.
Everyone would see them together and marvel at how beautiful they were.
Everyone would see that Shay was her daughter.
The thought warmed Moira from the inside.
She was so lost in that fantasy that she almost failed to notice Shay skipping away from Sandro and heading toward Ares and Lara.
Then she saw Lara and Shay’s face lit up.
Moira’s smile slowly disappeared.
Before she could make sense of what she was seeing, Shay threw herself into Lara’s arms.
Moira froze.
Shay wrapped her little arms around Lara with such unrestrained affection that something inside Moira twisted painfully.
Then, as though that wasn’t enough, Shay clung to Lara, laughing as they tumbled onto the grass. Within seconds, the little girl was sprawled happily on top of Lara, giggling while Lara laughed with her.
Moira couldn’t move.
The image burned itself into her mind.
The daughter she carried for nine months…
Laughing happily in another woman’s arms.