Chapter 25: Killian vs. Grandfather

The study in Blackwell Manor was silent, a hushed sanctuary of old money and quiet power, broken only by the distant, rhythmic ticking of an antique grandfather clock, its steady pulse a constant reminder of the passage of time. Heavy, imposing bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound tomes that smelled of history and wisdom, their worn spines whispering tales of generations past. At the center of the room, behind a massive mahogany desk, sat Richard Blackwell, the formidable patriarch of the Blackwell family, his presence radiating an aura of unwavering authority. His piercing gray eyes, sharp and assessing, settled on Killian, his expression unreadable, a mask that hid the complexities of his thoughts.

Killian stood firm, his posture unwavering, his shoulders squared, despite the weight of his grandfather's scrutiny, the unspoken judgment that hung heavy in the air. Luna and Elijah had been ushered into the grand sitting room, a buffer against the inevitable confrontation, leaving Killian to face this moment alone, to answer for his actions.

"So, you finally returned," Richard said, his voice as steady as ever, carrying both the weight of authority and the subtle undercurrents of something deeper—concern, perhaps, or a hint of long-suppressed disappointment? "With your wife, no less."

Killian met his gaze, his own expression impassive, a carefully constructed shield against the emotions swirling within him. "Yes, Grandfather."

The old man leaned back in his leather chair, folding his hands in front of him, his movements deliberate, his posture regal. "And yet, I wasn't invited to the wedding," he stated, his voice devoid of accusation, but his words a clear indication of his displeasure.

Killian exhaled through his nose, a sign of his growing tension. "It was sudden, Grandfather. A private matter," he said, his voice low and controlled.

"Sudden," Richard repeated, his gaze sharpening, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Much like your departure five years ago, a vanishing act that left us all wondering. And now, you waltz back into this house, bringing the very woman you left behind, the woman you abandoned, expecting what? That I would simply welcome you both with open arms, offer congratulations, and pretend that nothing happened, that the past could be so easily erased?"

Killian clenched his jaw, his muscles tensing, knowing this conversation, this confrontation, was inevitable, a reckoning he had been putting off for far too long. "I don't expect anything, Grandfather," he stated, his voice firm, his tone devoid of any hint of apology.

"Good," Richard said. "Because you have much to answer for. Not to me, but to that girl sitting in my house, smiling politely as if she wasn't abandoned by the man she once loved."

Killian flinched, barely perceptible, but his grandfather caught it.

"I have always been strict with you, Killian," Richard continued. "Because I had to be. You were raised to lead, to bear the weight of this family's legacy. But leadership requires more than just power. It requires integrity. And tell me, my boy—where was your integrity when you left Luna without a word?"

Killian's hands curled into fists at his sides. "It was complicated."

"Ah, yes. The favorite excuse, the convenient justification, of men who make foolish, impulsive decisions, who act without thinking of the consequences," Richard said, his voice held no mockery, no harsh judgment, only a quiet, almost weary disappointment, a subtle rebuke for Killian's actions. "And now you think bringing her back into your life, reintroducing her to this world, will somehow erase the past, mend the broken pieces, make everything right again? That a marriage, a contractual agreement, will magically fix everything, solve all the problems, absolve you of your past mistakes?"

Killian's silence, a heavy, loaded pause, spoke louder than any words he could have uttered, his inability to answer a testament to the complexities of his situation.

Richard sighed, a long, drawn-out sound, rubbing his temple with a weary hand, as if exhausted by the weight of the entire conversation, the burden of Killian's choices. "Tell me something, Killian, something I need to know, something that will help me understand your actions. Do you love her? Do you feel for this woman?"

The question hit harder than any accusation, piercing through his defenses, forcing him to confront the truth he had been avoiding. Killian swallowed, his throat tight, his mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions, a chaotic mix of memories, regrets, and a confusing array of feelings. Love. It should have been an easy answer, a simple affirmation. But this marriage, this arrangement, wasn't built on love, it was a strategic alliance, a business transaction, built on necessity, on carefully defined terms, on a contractual agreement. And yet… there was something more, something he couldn't deny, a connection, an undeniable pull.

"Does it matter, Grandfather?" Killian asked instead, his voice lower, rougher, betraying a hint of the inner turmoil he was experiencing, a vulnerability he rarely allowed to surface.

Richard studied him for a long, intense moment, his gaze unwavering, his expression thoughtful, before shaking his head slowly, a gesture of both disappointment and a deeper understanding. "It matters more than you think, Killian. It matters a great deal. Because if you don't, if your feelings are not genuine, then you've only brought Luna back into this family, into this world of wealth and power, to suffer again, to be hurt once more, to be used and discarded. And I won't allow that, Killian. I won't permit you to repeat the mistakes of the past, to inflict more pain on her," he declared, his voice firm, his tone final, a clear warning.

The finality in his words settled between them like a heavy weight, an unspoken promise. Killian's chest tightened, a physical manifestation of the pressure he felt. His grandfather had always been ruthless in business, a shrewd negotiator, but he had also been fair, a man of his word. And his concern for Luna, his protective stance, was not unfounded, it was a reflection of the genuine affection he held for her, an affection that Killian knew he had to respect.

"I will not make the same mistake twice," Killian said, his voice resolute.

Richard's expression didn't change, but something in his gaze softened—just slightly. "See that you don't. Because whether you realize it or not, that woman deserves more than half-measures, Killian. And if you hurt her again, you will have to answer to more than just me."

Killian nodded, the unspoken warning settling deep in his bones. This wasn't just about proving himself as a Blackwell. This was about Luna.

And for the first time in a long time, he wasn't sure if he was prepared for what that truly meant.