Chapter 34: The Party At The Norse Mansion

It was Saturday, and dusk was about to fall in Lanura. As the twilight deepens, the city’s lights begin to spark—streetlights and neon signs turned on, turning the metropolis into a “river of headlights” and a “sea of gold and silver”.

Lara leaned slightly toward the window, watching the world glide past as the Bentley purred down the quieter main avenue of Aurelian Village. The hum of the city faded behind them.

Instead of skyscrapers, fire trees lined both sides of the road like silent sentries. Their branches were thin and skeletal in the late January chill, leaves sparse and brittle, but bursts of bougainvillea flared between them—violent reds, hot pinks, streaks of orange—like paint splashed across a gray canvas.

On the center island, dwarf bougainvillea bloomed in careful clusters of tri-color. Manicured. Precise. Moneyed. The kind of landscaping that said this neighborhood didn’t just survive—it curated itself.

Soon the car slowed and turned right.

The road narrowed, quieter, more private. Just wide enough for two cars to pass without touching mirrors.

At the end stood a massive wrought-iron gate, black and imposing, crowned with elaborate, historically inspired curves and sigils. The name NORSE MANSION arched across the top like a declaration.

Something inside Lara tightened.

A flicker of memory. It was blurry, heavy, and unwelcome.

Shadows of a past she couldn’t quite grasp, yet.

Before she could chase it, the Bentley rolled to a smooth stop in front of the white mansion glowing under warm lights.

A security guard stepped forward and opened the door.

Black brushed-leather loafers touched the pavement first.

Then Ares stepped out dressed in a gray, single-breasted suit, with a black undershirt.

He didn’t look dressed for a party.

He looked dressed to own it with effortless authority.

Lara didn’t wait for help. She opened her own door, then turned to assist Shay, who hopped out carefully in her Disney-princess pink dress, puffed sleeves bouncing, a bold red ribbon tied proudly at her waist.

Ares had arrived late from a meeting that ran long. The party was already alive.

Soft music drifted through the air along with laughter and the clinking of crystal. The smell of expensive wine and fresh-cut grass.

A steward guided them along the side of the mansion to a sprawling lawn dotted with round tables dressed in blue covers and white runners. Fairy lights hung overhead like fallen stars.

Conversations flowed—until they didn’t.

The moment Ares stepped through the arched entryway, the atmosphere shifted. Paused. Like someone had pressed mute.

Heads turned. Spines straightened.

Power had a way of entering a place before the man did.

Liam broke away from a cluster of men mid-toast.

“Ares! I thought you were going to ghost me,” he called, teasing.

Then he noticed the two figures behind him.

His expression softened.

“Miss Larissa. We meet again.”

He offered his hand. Lara shook it lightly. He looked like he wanted to say more—to compliment her—but the words died somewhere between thought and pride.

He felt awkward, so he crouched in front of Shay. “And you, little princess… you look beautiful tonight.”

He tapped her head gently, careful not to disturb her perfectly styled hair.

“Sis!”

The shout cut through the music like a firecracker.

Every head turned.

Logan jogged toward them, his excitement evident in his long strides, completely unaware—or uncaring—that he was drawing the entire party’s attention.

Lara froze. She noted the many eyes giving her too much focus.

“It’s only been a few days, and you already look great,” Logan said, openly scanning her from head to toe.

Ares’ gaze sharpened. Protective. Measuring.

But Logan’s grin held no malice, no calculation. Just pure, clumsy affection. Like a kid who’d found family where he hadn’t expected it.

Ares’ furrowed brows relaxed.

Still—

When Logan grabbed both her wrists and pulled her toward the VIP table, Ares’ eyes darkened.

“Daddy,” Shay whispered, tugging his sleeve, watching Lara disappear into the crowd.

That’s when Sarah slid forward. She trailed behind them since they got out of the car, finding the perfect opportunity to show her presence. And the opportunity came.

Her timing was impeccable.

She was wearing a black dress, similar to Lara’s—but cut lower. Much lower. A plunging V neckline that showcased skin she clearly intended to be noticed, while Lara was wearing a halter that exposed her shoulder blades and arms.

“Princess, don’t worry. I’m here,” she cooed, crouching close to Shay—close enough that if Ares glanced down, he’d see exactly what she wanted him to see.

Calculated sweetness.

But Ares did not look down. His gaze followed Logan and Lara.

Meanwhile—

At the VIP table—

“Mom, I brought Lara!” Logan sounded ridiculously proud, like he’d just won something. “Well, her name is Larissa, but I like to call her Lara.”

He gently nudged Lara forward.

Madeline Norse looked up—

—and stilled.

For a second, everything else faded. Her heartbeat stumbled.

She didn’t know why, but something about this girl tugged at her heartstrings.

She had seen Lara once before—at the hospital. She was bald, pale, and fragile. Her eyes were shut, and she looked half-dead.

This girl standing before her now was different.

She was very much alive. Though still a bit slender, but she was glowing.

“Lara, this is my mother, Madeline,” Logan said softly. “She was out of town visiting Grandma, when you woke up.”

“Hello, child,” Madeline said, voice warm as sunlight. “It’s good you woke up. Come… let me look at you.”

Lara stepped closer before she even realized she was moving.

Madeline’s gentleness wrapped around her like something familiar. Something safe.

The torch lamps that dotted the hedges separating the party area from the orchard at the back flickered—golden, green, and then red.

The light caught Lara’s eyes, and the color of her irises shifted.

At first, they were golden, then amber, and then green.

Madeline inhaled sharply.

“You…” she whispered, dazed. “Your eyes… they remind me of my father.”

Her voice softened.

And the baby I lost, back then, she added silently, her face contorted as if she was in pain.

Lara smiled awkwardly. She’d heard comments about her strange eyes all her life. They never stayed one color long enough to belong anywhere. But that’s the norm for someone who has hazel eyes.

Then she noticed the look on Madeline’s face. She was in agony. When she wanted to ask about it, Madeline’s face was gentle again.

“It’s nice meeting you, ma’am.” Lara offered her hand.

Madeline reached for it and covered it with her own.

Lara felt the warmth in them, and something was stirred deep in her heart.

“Why not call me Mom?” she said gently. “Leon and I decided months ago… we want to adopt you.”

Lara was at a loss—Leon? Then it clicked: it was an endearment Madeline called General Leonard.

Then the words hit like thunder.

Adopt.

“The Norse name could open doors for you,” Madeline added softly. “Anything you want to become—we’ll back you.”

“Yeah,” Logan grinned. “Our surname’s basically a cheat code in this city.”

Then—

A small voice, stubborn and possessive, cut through everything.

“But she is my Mommy…”

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