Reborn at Eighteen The Billionaire's Second Chance novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122

Elara

I was still leaning against Raven, my legs barely holding me up,

Sloane took two trembling steps toward me.

“Elara…” Her voice broke. “Is it… is it you…”

when

She pressed one hand to her small baby bump, the other reaching out

as if to touch me, then pulling back. Her eyes were red–rimmed,

glassy with unshed tears.

“I’ve been thinking,” she whispered, “did I… did I do something to

offend you?”

Julian’s hand tightened on her elbow, but she gently pulled away,

moving closer.

“At the gala, you pointed out the painting I gave was… was for funerals. I know I was deceived. That was my mistake.” Her voice caught. “But why… why would you also…”

She couldn’t finish. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

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Chapter 122

“The poison,” she finally managed. “If I did something wrong, I

apologize. I really do…”

Her hand trembled over her stomach. “The baby is innocent. The

doctor said I almost… we almost…”

The words dissolved into a sob. Julian moved immediately, catching

her before she swayed.

I watched the performance with something close to nausea.

“I didn’t poison anyone,” I said. My voice came out flat, toneless.

Sloane’s eyes flickered–just for a second, I saw the triumph there.

Then tears covered it again.

“But… Anna said…” She turned those wounded doe eyes toward

Julian. “She said Elara told her to put something in my tea…”

“Who the hell is Anna?” Raven’s voice cut through, sharp and angry.

“And why should anyone believe her word against Elara’s?”

Sloane looked at Raven as if noticing her for the first time. A flash of

irritation crossed her face, quickly smoothed away.

“Anna is one of the housemaids at Blackwood,” Sloane said softly.

Chapter 122

“She told the police that Elara… that Elara gave her a vial of powder.

Asked her to put it in my drink.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Anna said she admired Elara. Said she thought the Vane family

treated her unfairly. So she… she agreed to help. Even without

payment.”

The lie was so smooth, so detailed. I almost admired the

craftsmanship.

“Then show me this vial,” I said. “Show me my fingerprints on it.

Show me any evidence beyond the word of a maid who probably got

paid very well to say these things.”

Julian’s eyes cut to me. For a moment, something flickered in his

expression–something I couldn’t name.

Then he spoke, his voice cold and measured: “Nothing has been

proven yet. Anna’s testimony alone isn’t sufficient for a conviction.”

He looked down at Sloane, and his voice softened slightly. “But

whoever did this should be grateful you and the baby are safe.”

He paused, and when he continued, his voice carried the weight of a

death sentence. “Otherwise… I wouldn’t let it go easily.”

Sloane seemed startled by the edge in his tone. She tugged at his

Chapter 122

sleeve. “Julian, you don’t have to be so… harsh…”

But he wasn’t looking at her anymore. His gaze was fixed somewhere

past my shoulder, jaw tight.

“Poisoning someone in my house,” he said quietly, “means you’ve

gotten tired of living.”

The threat hung in the air–directed at no one and everyone. At the

real culprit. At me, if I was guilty.

I met his eyes, even though my knees were shaking, even though

Raven’s arm was the only thing keeping me upright.

“I won’t let the real poisoner go either,” I said. Each word cost me, my

voice raw from fever. “Or whoever framed me.”

My gaze swept across both of them–Julian, with his cold fury, and

Sloane, with her perfect tears.

The air crystallized. Three people, three battle lines drawn.

Raven’s grip on my arm tightened, as if she was afraid I’d collapse.

Finally, Julian broke eye contact first. He turned, one arm supporting

Sloane.

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“Let’s go,” he said. “The doctor said you need rest.”

As they walked away, Sloane glanced back. Just once.

The look she gave me was pure, naked triumph.

The IV drip finished around five p.m. Raven helped me gather my

things–my phone, my wallet, the few bills I had left.

We’d just reached the hospital’s bright, sterile lobby when someone

grabbed my arm.

I turned. Julian stood behind me, his expression unreadable.

Raven immediately stepped between us, protective.

“Your clothes,” he said, his voice low. “Your things. They’re still at

Blackwood,”

I’d almost forgotten. In my rush to escape the estate this morning, t

even forgot to change back into my clothes.

“Then they’re lost,” I said. My throat was still raw. “I’ll buy new ones.

Chapter 122

His eyebrows drew together, like he hadn’t expected that answer.

He studied my face–the pallor, the exhaustion, the way I was leaning

slightly on Raven to stay standing.

Something shifted in his expression. Something almost like…

uncertainty.

Raven couldn’t hold back. “She’s sick. You really expect her to go back

to that-”

Julian’s eyes cut to her, cold and dismissive. “This is between her and

me.”

Raven bristled, but she held her ground, still blocking me.

Julian looked at me one more time. “Suit yourself.”

Then he turned and walked away, his back rigid.

Raven waited until he disappeared through the sliding doors. “Were

those things really not important?”

I thought of my few possessions left behind. The worn jeans. The

secondhand sweaters.

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“They’re important,” I admitted. “But some things matter more than

clothing.”

Like dignity. Like refusing to be controlled.

We hadn’t taken three steps outside when I heard my mother’s voice.

“Elara! ELARA!”

Mamá ran toward us, breathless, her cleaning uniform rumpled. Her

eyes were wild with worry.

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