To ruin an Omega novel Chapter 352

Chapter 352: He without sin 2

ALDRIC

A few heads turned immediately at the mention of that name.

"And there are more," she continued quickly. "So many more people working with him."

She began listing names then.

The first few tightened something in my chest because I recognized them immediately. People I had met privately. Individuals who had provided useful information or influence when the situation required it.

But the list did not stop there.

More names followed.

Some of them belonged to people I had never heard of.

Others sounded suspiciously convenient.

It took only a few seconds for the realization to settle into place.

Cian had prepared this.

He had mixed truth with fiction so carefully that any attempt to defend myself would risk exposing the parts that were actually real. If I denied everything, someone might eventually uncover the pieces that were true. If I tried to argue the details, I might accidentally confirm something worse.

The trap was elegant in its simplicity. 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Madeline’s voice grew louder as she spoke, her fear turning into something frantic.

"I was terrified," she cried. "I thought he would kill me."

She paused just long enough for the next words to sink in.

"Just like he killed Ophelia."

The courtyard fell completely silent.

Someone near the back gasped aloud, the sound sharp and involuntary. The name carried weight here, considering what that name had almost caused Skollrend, enough that people immediately understood what Madeline was implying. I heard fabric shift as several people turned to look at one another, whispers beginning to ripple through the gathering crowd.

Shock moved through them slowly at first.

Then faster.

Like a wave spreading outward from the center of the courtyard.

******

Someone moved behind me.

I didn’t turn to look, but I knew who it was before she even spoke. Morrigan had a way of stepping into a room that carried its own kind of presence, like the air shifted to make space for her. Her voice cut through the murmuring crowd, sharp with confusion.

"What does that mean? That doesn’t sound like Aldric at all."

A few heads turned toward her, though most people were still staring at me like I had suddenly grown horns. I kept my eyes forward. If I started looking around now, if I began searching faces for support or doubt, it would show too much.

Elara was there too.

I caught sight of her off to the side of the gathering crowd. She stood with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, shoulders stiff in a way that reminded me of when she was a child trying not to cry in front of strangers. Her expression had twisted into something hard to read. Anger, certainly. Disbelief too. The two emotions sat uneasily together on her face.

"Yeah," she said, her voice carrying clearly across the courtyard. "That doesn’t sound like my father at all."

The words might have helped.

Under different circumstances they would have.

But the moment had already slipped too far out of my hands for simple loyalty to fix it.

Ronan forced his way through the crowd next. He pushed between two sentinels with the blunt determination of a man who had no patience for politeness. His face had gone red with anger, the veins along his neck standing out as he stepped forward.

"This is insane," he snapped. "This woman is insane."

His fists were clenched so tightly that the knuckles had gone pale.

Several people murmured agreement.

Others just watched.

And through all of it I said nothing.

Not a word.

It wasn’t restraint. It wasn’t some calculated silence meant to intimidate them or make them wonder what I was thinking. The truth was much simpler than that.

I couldn’t speak.

If I opened my mouth right then, I would have to choose between denying everything or confirming it. Either option carried its own set of problems, and both of them led directly into the trap Cian had spent so much time building.

If I denied it immediately, loudly and defensively, I would look exactly like what they expected a guilty man to look like. Desperate. Cornered. Scrambling for excuses.

If I confirmed even a part of it, the entire structure would collapse on top of me.

So I stood there.

I let the noise grow around me while the courtyard filled with tension and whispers. The murmuring crowd felt like a living thing pressing in from every direction. I could feel their eyes on my back, on my face, on the slightest shift of my shoulders.

Through all of it, Cian watched me.

His gaze never left mine.

He didn’t look furious the way I might have expected. There was no triumph in his expression either, no smug satisfaction at seeing me dragged into the open like this.

He simply looked calm.

Patient.

He probably saw himself as a hunter who had already laid the trap and now had nothing left to do but wait for the animal to realize it had stepped into it.

After a long moment he spoke.

"Uncle."

The word came out quietly, almost gently.

That alone made several people shift uncomfortably.

"Would you like to respond to these vile accusations?"

The way he said it was clever.

Soft enough that it sounded reasonable, respectful even, but the question itself carried the weight of a blade wrapped carefully in silk.

Because he knew what silence would look like.

If I stayed quiet much longer the crowd would start filling the gaps themselves. Silence becomes confession very quickly when people are already primed to believe the worst.

But speaking meant stepping onto ground he had prepared.

Ground I couldn’t see clearly yet.

The corner of my mouth twitched.

Then I laughed.

The absurdity of the whole situation pressed down on me all at once, and the only response that felt honest was amusement.

It was brilliant.

Infuriating, but brilliant.

If I was the one who set this up, I would have enjoyed it.

He had maneuvered me into this position step by careful step, and I hadn’t even realized how much the board was shifting under my feet.

I looked directly at him.

"Do you believe her?"

For the first time since this began, Cian hesitated.

He pretended to at least.

"She left here this morning," he said slowly, choosing each word. "On what seemed like her own volition."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify