Under the Veil I Rule (Amara) novel Chapter 401

“Finn? What are you doing here so early?” Dorian Hawke asked, surprised, after opening the door.

Finnian Everly looked like he had showered, but the dark circles under his eyes were heavy, and a weary, dissipated air clung to him. He clearly hadn't slept a wink, which was unusual.

Ignoring the question, Finnian cut straight to the chase. “Is Elysia Moon home?”

At the mention of his wife’s name, Dorian’s expression soured. Things had been tense between them ever since the incident with the hickey from Lucian Hale. He had been hounding Elysia for an explanation, but she’d been dismissive, even annoyed by his persistence. Eventually, she started avoiding him altogether, since every conversation they had devolved into a fight. He hadn't been eating or sleeping well for days and had lost a noticeable amount of weight.

“She’s here,” Dorian said. “Why are you looking for her?”

“I need to talk to her,” Finnian replied, nodding. “Can you get her?”

Dorian agreed and showed Finnian to the sofa before going to get Elysia. He hadn’t had a proper conversation with her in days, but since this was about someone else, she didn't refuse him completely. A few moments later, she emerged from the bedroom, fully dressed, her face a thunderous mask.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Elysia said, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she saw Finnian. “What can I do for you, Mr. Everly?”

“Is Amara Sullivan planning on leaving Wye?” Finnian asked, wasting no time.

She stood and stubbed out her half-finished cigarette in the ashtray. “I won’t be talking her out of it, and I’d advise you not to try, either.” Her voice was firm. “Ama has made up her mind. There’s nothing and no one here she feels attached to anymore. Besides, don’t you have Ms. Porter now? Why waste your energy on this?”

With Elysia’s refusal hanging in the air, Finnian’s expression turned cold and grim. He wanted to argue, but he couldn't find the words.

He left, his retreating figure looking utterly dejected. As soon as the living room door closed, Dorian turned to Elysia, his voice laced with scorn. “So, you finally decided to speak. And in complete sentences, no less. You must be exhausted.”

The sarcasm was thick, a bitter jab at how she had stonewalled him for days while he’d desperately tried to talk to her.