Chapter 174 - 0174: As Long As I Get To Keep You

Chapter 174: Chapter 0174: As Long As I Get To Keep You

Graham’s Point Of View

The air in the foyer hung thick with tension, pressing against my skin like a physical weight. Elena stood there, her suitcases at her feet, her dark eyes burning with a fire I hadn’t seen in years... not since the early days, before the marriage had worn her down into something quieter, more careful.

My mother’s words hung between us, sharp and venomous, the threat of losing everything she’d built, everything she had worked so hard for, lingering like a curse in the cold air.

"Mom... stop." My voice came out low, a warning, but my mother ignored me completely, her lips curling into a cold smirk as she stepped closer to Elena.

"No, Graham." Her voice slid out smooth and calculated, the kind of tone she reserved for the moment before she delivered a killing blow. "Let her know what she’s losing when she leaves."

Elena didn’t flinch. She simply stood there, her gaze locked onto Matilda’s, her expression unreadable, a stillness in her that felt more unsettling than any outburst could have been.

Matilda continued, her voice dripping with disdain. "My son made you who you are today. If not for marrying into my family, where would you have been?" She spread her hands, gesturing to the grandeur around us... the marble floors, the crystal chandeliers, the opulence that had become Elena’s prison for six long years. "You can go. No one’s stopping you."

I expected Elena to cave, to hesitate, to let the fear of losing everything... her home, her security, her status, seep in and make her second-guess herself. That’s what my mother was counting on. That’s what I’d been counting on too, deep down, in the part of me that still refused to believe she would actually leave.

But then Elena smirked.

A slow, dangerous curve of her lips sent a chill down my spine, and then she laughed, a sharp, bitter sound that echoed through the foyer like a slap.

"You flatter me, Matilda," she said, her voice smooth and mocking, her eyes gleaming with something dark and triumphant. She tilted her head, her gaze raking over my mother as though she were nothing more than an inconvenience to be dealt with. "Why do you love bringing disgrace to yourself? Is it a natural talent?"

Matilda’s face twisted, her composure slipping for the first time that I could remember in years. "What did you just..."

"It’s like you’ve forgotten." Elena’s voice dropped low and deadly as her fingers reached into her purse. "You made me sign a prenup before I married Graham."

The words hit the room like a bomb.

Matilda gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "A... what?!"

Elena’s smirk deepened, satisfaction flickering across her features. "A prenup." She pulled out a folded stack of papers, the edges slightly yellowed with time, and held them up for all of us to see. "You did it to protect your family’s wealth from someone as poor as me." Her voice turned cold and final, her gaze burning into my mother’s. "Because you believed I was after your son’s money."

The memory flashed through my mind, vivid and unrelenting, like a scene from a movie I’d tried desperately to forget.

The study had been dark that night, the only light coming from the fireplace, the flames casting long, flickering shadows across the walls. Elena sat across from me, her fingers trembling slightly as she flipped through the pages of the prenup my mother had slid across the desk. Her dark eyes lifted to mine, confused and hurt in a way that still haunted me.

"Graham... what is this?"

I shifted in my seat, my fingers rubbing the back of my neck, unable to hold her gaze. "It’s standard, Elena," I said, my voice too casual, as though I were discussing the weather instead of a document that would strip her of everything if our marriage ever failed.

Elena’s gaze flicked toward Matilda, who sat ramrod straight in her chair, her expression unreadable, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. "I don’t hate you, sweetheart," my mother said, her voice smooth and patronizing. "I’m just protecting my son."

Elena’s lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers tightening around the pen. "You think I’m after his money?"

Matilda didn’t even blink. "It’s not personal, dear. It’s business."

Elena laughed, a short, humorless sound that still echoed in my memory. "I don’t want your money, Matilda," she said, her voice steady as her gaze locked onto mine. "All I want is his heart. His love." She signed the papers without another word and pushed them back across the desk. "Nothing more."

I remembered the way my chest had ached when she said that, the way I’d believed her completely, the way some small, foolish part of me had felt relieved that she hadn’t walked away right then.

The memory shattered as Elena held up the papers, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"Here’s the proof, if you don’t believe me."

Matilda’s face went pale, her fingers trembling as she reached for the documents, her eyes scanning the pages as though she were seeing them for the very first time. The room fell silent, the only sound the rustle of paper and the pounding of my own heart in my ears.

The foyer had become a battleground, the air thick with the stench of betrayal and rage, the marble floors cold beneath my feet, the chandelier casting harsh light over the wreckage of my life. Elena stood there, the prenup clutched in her hand like a weapon, her dark eyes burning with a fire I’d never seen before, not like this, not directed at me.

My mother had gone pale, her fingers trembling as she stared at the papers, her lips pressed into a thin, white line. Lilian hovered in the background, forgotten for the moment, her face a mask of shock and confusion, one hand still resting protectively on her belly as though she could shield the child inside from the poison filling the room.

"Everything I owned before the marriage remains mine." Elena’s voice turned to ice, cold and unforgiving, each word twisting into my chest like a knife. "And everything your family owned remained yours." She stepped closer, her gaze locked onto mine, challenging and defiant. "Isn’t that right?"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight, my heart pounding like a drum in my ears. "Elena..."

"And about my company." Her laugh came short and bitter, the sound scraping against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. "I had already started it before I married your son." Her lips curled into a smirk, dark and dangerous, and she spread her hands, her voice dropping to a whisper. "So what exactly am I losing?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and mocking. My mother recoiled as though she’d been slapped, her eyes flicking between Elena and me, her face twisting with rage. "You ungrateful..."

"Oh." Elena cut her off, her voice sweet and deadly. "Sorry." She shrugged, the movement careless and final. "But not sorry, Matilda. I don’t care." Her gaze swept over me, cold and unfeeling, as though I were nothing, as though I meant nothing at all. "You can keep him."

You can keep him.

The words tore through my chest, slicing through whatever arrogance I had left and leaving me bleeding, completely defenseless, stripped bare in front of everyone I’d ever tried to impress.

She was leaving. She was actually, truly walking away, discarding me like I was a piece of trash she was finally tired of carrying around. Panic surged through my veins like poison, raw and suffocating and completely unhinged.

My lungs burned for air. I couldn’t lose her. I simply couldn’t. Elena was my entire life. She was the only person in this godforsaken world who had ever made me genuinely happy, the only real warmth in this cold, empty house that I’d grown up calling home but had never once felt like one.

God, what have I done?

I knew exactly how we’d gotten here. I knew it, and the guilt felt like a physical weight crushing my ribs, threatening to cave in my chest entirely. It was the issue with the child... the constant, agonizing pressure, the endless doctor visits, the silent tears she cried in the middle of the night when she thought I was asleep.

And instead of holding her, instead of shielding her from the world the way a husband should, I had listened to my parents. I had let my mother’s toxic, poisonous whispering infect my mind until I let Lilian into our lives, until I broke the one woman who had given me her absolute everything without ever once asking for anything in return.

I was terrified. I was running completely out of options, cornered like a desperate animal watching its only lifeline slip out the door and disappear into the night.

I know I shouldn’t do this, a frantic voice inside my head screamed at me. I shouldn’t use her wounds against her. I know how much her mother broke her. I know how deep those scars go, how long it took her to even speak of them without her hands shaking. I shouldn’t touch that pain. I don’t want her to see me as a monster.

But if she walked out that door, I would be left with nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just a hollow house, a bitter mother, and a life built on pure regret. I was so desperate to keep her by my side that I didn’t care how ugly it looked. I didn’t care if I had to play dirty. I just needed her to stay, even if staying meant she hated me for it.

I stepped forward, my hands clenching into fists at my sides, my voice low and dangerous. "If you leave, Elena, then you leave me no other option than to talk to your mother." The words tasted like poison in my mouth, but I said them anyway, my gaze burning into hers. "To talk some sense into you."

She froze.

The room held its breath.

And then she turned slowly, her eyes narrowing, her voice dropping to a hiss. "How low can you get, Graham?"

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t look away, even as something inside me recoiled at my own words. "As low as possible," I said, the thought cold, calculating, ruthless even to my own ears. "As long as I get to keep you."

Her laugh came out hollow and broken, the sound shattering the silence like glass. "You’re threatening me with my messed-up life?" Her voice rose, sharp and disbelieving. "You’re using what you know against me? What’s wrong with you?" She stepped closer, her fingers curling into fists, her knuckles white with the effort of restraint.

I opened my mouth to answer, to explain, to beg. "Don’t." Her voice was final, cold, unshaken. "Don’t answer. I don’t want to know." She shook her head, her dark hair swinging around her shoulders, her eyes burning with disgust. "We’re done, Graham." Her voice cracked, just once, before she steadied it, her spine straightening, her chin lifting with a pride I had never seen so fiercely displayed. "And this time, for good."

The words hit me like a blow, my stomach twisting, my chest aching as though she’d reached inside and ripped out my heart with her bare hands.

"Elena..."

"I dare you." Her voice came out as a snarl, raw and venomous, her eyes burning into mine. "I dare you to report me to my mother." She stepped even closer, her breath hot against my face, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And just let even a scratch be found on my siblings." Her fingers dug into my chest, her nails biting through the fabric of my shirt, her voice dropping further into a growl. "And I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Graham."

Before I could even process the burning threat in her eyes, my mother took a sharp step forward, her face flushed with absolute outrage, her hand slamming down against the entry table so hard the marble rattled beneath the force.

"How dare you?!" Matilda’s voice shrieked through the foyer, high and sharp and trembling with unfiltered rage. "How dare you speak to my son like that in his own home! You’re threatening him?! You street rat! You ungrateful, malicious little bitch!"

My mother stepped right into the space between us, her body shaking, her fingers pointing like a dagger straight at Elena’s face. "Look at you! Standing there acting like you’re some kind of queen because you dragged out a piece of paper! You think that prenup makes you important?! You think your pathetic little joke of a company makes you equal to us?!"

"Mother, stop..." I rasped out, trying to grab her arm, but she shoved my hand away violently, her eyes locked on Elena with pure, unadulterated hatred that I had never seen my mother direct at anyone before.

"No, Graham! I will not stop! I have held my tongue for six long years while this parasitic girl bled you dry!" Matilda took another menacing step toward Elena, her chest heaving beneath her silk blouse, her voice dropping into a vicious, mocking venom that seemed to relish every syllable.

"You want to talk about disgrace, Elena? Let’s talk about the utter disgrace you brought into this family! You came into this house with nothing! You had a broken family, a psychotic mother, and a line of pitiful siblings relying on my son’s charity just to eat!"

She threw her head back, laughing a cold, cruel sound that bounced off the high ceilings and seemed to fill every corner of the room.

"You think you achieved something on your own? You built that little company on my son’s reputation! People signed deals with you because you carried the Vance name! Without Graham, you are nothing! You are a nobody from a trailer-trash lineage, and you will always be that pathetic little girl begging for table scraps!"

My mother stepped even closer, her eyes glittering with dark satisfaction as she gestured wildly toward Lilian, presenting her like a trophy.

"Look at what a real woman looks like!" Matilda spat, her voice ringing out like a final sentence being handed down. "Lilian comes from money! She comes from class! And most importantly, she can do the one basic, pathetic thing you failed at year after year after year! She is carrying the Vance bloodline! She is giving my son his future, while you... you were nothing but a defective, barren vessel!"

Lilian puffed her chest up in the background, a small, cruel smirk crossing her face, though her hands still shook against her stomach, betraying a nervousness that undercut her satisfaction.

My mother leaned in close to Elena’s face, her voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper that somehow carried more menace than her shouting had.

"So take your cheap suitcases," Matilda snarled, pointing a shaking, diamond-ringed finger toward the double doors. "Take your pathetic prenup and your worthless pride, and crawl back into the gutter you crawled out of! You are dead to this family! You lose everything today, Elena! You lose the status, you lose the protection, and you lose my son! Crawl back to your miserable, broken mother and tell her how you failed!"