His Father Bought Me-Chapter 24: Consideration Or Care

Estelle blinked, following his eyes down to the hospital gown still tied loosely at the back. Suddenly, she felt it... how exposed it left her, how it whispered vulnerability she wasn’t ready to show. A breath slipped from her lips. "I guess not."

"I think you need a dress," Roman said, matter-of-factly, but there was something softer beneath it now. Consideration? Maybe care.

Estelle nodded. "I do, but—" She didn’t even get the rest out. Roman was already on his feet, the scrape of the chair sharp against the tiled floor as he moved toward the door with urgency.

Her brows pulled together. "Where are you in such a hurry to?"

He paused just long enough to glance back at her, his hand resting on the handle. "To get you a dress befitting Mrs. Whitehall." His gaze dipped briefly, then returned to her eyes, deeper now. "And my wife."

The words landed differently this time, leaving a soft, dangerous warmth that spread outward, filling spaces she had kept carefully guarded. Estelle felt it bloom in her chest before she could shut it down.

She let out a small breath, and a smile touched her lips. "Then I think you need a suit too," she said, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. "Something that speaks to your new status." Her voice softened. "I want us to look so good that Magnus starts questioning his own plans."

Roman’s smile widened, a flicker of admiration lighting his eyes. "Then I’d better get going," he said. "Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise."

Estelle nodded, her fingers curling slightly into the thin fabric of the gown as she watched him. For a second, just one second, it felt like something more, like the beginning of something neither of them had planned.

Then he opened the door and stepped out. The soft click as it shut echoed louder than it should have, and silence rushed in to fill the space he left behind.

Estelle’s smile faded, the warmth in her chest increased, then dimmed as her thoughts crept back in. A frown creased her brows as her stomach tightened. If Magnus knew I would fall before I even did, then someone else had to be involved. Her fingers froze against the fabric as a thought sliced through her mind. Did my family know? Were they in on it?

The thought landed heavier than the rest, and Estelle shook her head quickly, as if she could physically discard the idea before it rooted too deeply. No. She couldn’t let her thoughts go there. The fear of the truth she might find made her heart beat faster.

—

Meanwhile, as Roman stepped into the hallway, the door clicked shut behind him, soft but final. He paused for a second, glancing back at it, a quiet scoff slipping past his lips, and then a faint smile followed, unbidden.

Estelle. She had sparked something in him, something unexpected, something... curious. Roman shook his head lightly, as if to clear it, but the warmth lingered in his chest anyway.

The corridor was dim, the overhead lights casting long shadows across the polished floor, and his footsteps echoed softly as he started toward the elevator

"Going somewhere?" The voice slid through the silence, low, cold, and far too close.

Roman stopped, then slowly turned. Magnus stood a few steps away, half-shadowed, a glass of wine resting loosely in his hand. The dark red liquid caught the light as he tilted it slightly.

Roman exhaled through his nose, his expression settling into something neutral. "Can’t sleep? Why am I not surprised? You have to keep plotting, I mean, we can’t risk having someone outsmart you," he said, his tone calm.

Magnus’s jaw tightened, the faint clink of glass against his ring breaking the stillness. "Don’t play smart with me. Where are you going at this hour? I just hope—"

"Where do you think?" Roman lifted a shoulder in a small shrug as he replied. "To carry out your order."

A slight frown creased Magnus’s face. "What does that mean?"

"I’ll need the Whitehall ring," Roman said, bypassing the question as he adjusted his sleeve. "The one Mother wore."

Magnus suddenly became still.

Roman continued, his voice steady, almost casual. "My wife and I will be making our first appearance as you wanted. I don’t intend for us to miss a single detail." His gaze flicked up, meeting Magnus’s. "You said it yourself, the press are like vultures, and I have no plan to give them any meat. I won’t have us looking unprepared... or ordinary."

Silence stretched between them for a beat.

Magnus’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying him. Why is he suddenly obedient? The thought lingered, sharp and unwelcome. He took a slow sip of his wine before lowering the glass. "You could give her the Whitehall signet ring, you know that," he said.

Roman’s expression didn’t change, but something in his stance hardened. "My wife deserves more than just another signet ring." The words landed quietly. "I want her to have the one Mother wore, and I won’t accept anything less."

Magnus watched him closely now, measuring every word, every shift in tone. Then he nodded once. "You know what giving your mother’s ring means."

Roman met his gaze without hesitation. "That I’ve accepted Estelle as my wife," he said. Then he paused briefly. "Or that she’ll soon be the lady of the house."

The air shifted.

Magnus’s grip tightened slightly around the stem of his glass. The lady of the house. The phrase echoed, carrying something more than its surface meaning, something that sounded too close to challenge. Suspicion flickered, but he kept his expression calm.

"Walk with me," Magnus said at last, stepping fully into the light.

Without another word, Roman fell into step beside him. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor, steady, neither man speaking as they moved. The air felt heavier here, like the walls themselves were listening.

A moment later, they stopped in front of Magnus’s study. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Roman followed.

The room smelled faintly of leather and old wood, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over the shelves lined with books. Magnus moved straight to the safe tucked in the wall behind his desk, punching in the code with ease, and then a soft click broke the silence. He opened it and reached inside, retrieving a small, golden-brown box.

Roman’s gaze fixed on it. Mother’s ring... in the safe? That alone said enough. It meant something... more than just inheritance, more than just tradition. His thoughts stirred, but he kept his face unreadable.

Magnus turned, holding the box with an almost careful reverence, and made his way back to the desk. He sat, his eyes lingering on it for a moment before placing it gently on the polished surface. Then he looked up at Roman.

Roman didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, leaning slightly as he reached for the box. But the moment his fingers brushed against it, Magnus’s hand gripped his wrist, freezing him in place. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Roman’s breath stopped, his chest tightening at the unexpected force. Slowly, he lifted his gaze and met his father’s eyes.

Magnus was no longer smiling.