Chapter 8: The Truth They Hid

The council chamber smelled like old wood and older lies.

I'd never felt small before, not really. Not even when I woke up in that hospital bed three months ago with no memory and three strangers claiming to be my family. But standing here, in front of this long table with men in expensive suits staring at me like I was a problem that needed solving?

I felt small.

The table stretched across the room like a courtroom bench. The elders sat behind it, stone-faced and severe, looking less like protectors and more like undertakers who'd been burying secrets for decades.

Rowan stood just behind me. Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him. Not touching, he never touched me unless he had to, but his presence was a weight against my back. Solid. Unmovable. Suffocating.

Lucien and Elias flanked the room on opposite sides, silent as sentries. Watching. Waiting.

The eldest councilman, grey-haired, sharp-eyed, the kind of man who'd probably never smiled in his life, cleared his throat. The sound scraped against the silence like nails on stone.

"You deserve clarity," he said.

I crossed my arms, felt my nails bite into my palms. "That'd be a nice change."

A beat of silence. Then the hammer fell.

"You were not born into the King family."

The words were quiet. Almost gentle. But they hit like a fist to the ribs.

I blinked. Once. Twice. My brain scrambled for purchase. "I already know I was adopted," I said slowly. "You told me that."

Rowan's jaw clenched so hard I heard his teeth grind.

The elder shook his head. "No. You were never formally adopted, Ava."

The floor tilted beneath me. "What the hell does that mean?"

Lucien stepped forward, and for the first time since I'd known him, his mask slipped. Just a crack. "It means there's no legal documentation. No paper trail."

My stomach dropped through the floor.

Elias spoke, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "You were placed under our protection."

"Placed?" My voice came out sharper than I meant it to. "Like what, a piece of furniture? A liability you had to store somewhere?"

Rowan moved then, stepping half in front of me like he could block the words physically. "Enough."

But the elder wasn't finished. "You were three years old when your biological parents were killed."

The air left my lungs in a rush.

Killed.

Not missing. Not gone. Not "unable to care for you."

Killed.

Rowan's hands curled into fists at his sides. I saw the knuckles go white.

I forced my voice to work. "By who?"

The elder's gaze went hard as flint. "A rival syndicate. They wanted access to what your father controlled."

My head spun. "My father was a criminal?"

Lucien's voice cut through the chaos, calm and steady. "No. He was powerful. In this world, the line between the two is razor-thin."

"That's not the same thing," I snapped.

Rowan finally stepped closer, not into my space, but close enough that I could see the storm in his eyes. "He was a financial strategist who knew too much. The kind of man who could dismantle empires with a single phone call."

I stared at him. Searched his face for a lie and found none. "You knew."

He didn't flinch. "Yes."

"How long?"

"Since I was old enough to understand what 'protection' actually meant."

The betrayal didn't explode. It settled, quiet and cold and deep in my chest. "You let me believe I was unwanted."

Something cracked in Rowan's expression. Just for a second. "We let you believe you were safe."

The elder continued like we weren't unraveling in front of him. "You were hidden under the identity of a sibling because it was the only way to prevent them from finding you again. A King is a difficult target to eliminate. An orphan with no ties?" He shrugged. "Easy."

I stared at the table. At the grain of the wood blurring in front of me. "So I'm not your sister."

Lucien answered. "Not by blood."

Elias added quietly, "But by choice."

That should've helped. Should've felt like something. It didn't.

I turned to Rowan, my gaze steady even though my hands were shaking. "And you?"

His throat worked. Once. Twice. Then: "You were never my sister."

The room went dead silent.

Lucien's head snapped toward his brother. Elias inhaled sharply. But Rowan didn't look away from me.

"You were a responsibility," he said, his voice low and rough. "And then you became something I wasn't allowed to define."

My heart slammed against my ribs. Too fast. Too hard.

The elder cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "This is precisely why discretion is necessary."

I stepped back from Rowan, the air between us suddenly too hot, too charged. "You don't get to look at me differently now."

His voice dropped to something that made my skin prickle. "I never did."

Oh.

That was worse. So much worse. Because it meant every protective look, every careful touch, every time he stepped between me and danger, it hadn't been brotherly concern.

It had been something else entirely.

My pulse stuttered.

Lucien cut in, his voice firm. "This conversation is over."

But I wasn't done. "So what are the rules now?" I demanded, looking at each of them. "What am I supposed to be to you?"

Silence.

The elder answered. "You are no longer legally bound to the Kings as family. You are free to choose your place among them."

Choose.

The word felt heavier than "sister" ever had.

I exhaled slowly. "For twenty-one years, you all decided what I was. Hidden. Protected. Managed." I met Rowan's eyes, held them. "I decide now."

He didn't argue. Just watched me like I was something fragile and dangerous at the same time.

I turned toward the door, my hand already on the heavy brass handle, when Rowan spoke again.

"One more thing."

I stopped. Didn't turn around.

"You were taken at three," he said carefully. "But you weren't the original target."

My brow furrowed. I looked back.

"They were after me," Rowan said.

The world tilted sideways.

Lucien stiffened. "Rowan,"

"No," Rowan cut him off. "She deserves the full truth. All of it." He took a step closer but didn't invade my space. "You weren't the target that night. They wanted leverage against the King family. They wanted to destroy our father."

Elias finished quietly. "And they found it in you."

The truth sank into my bones like ice water.

I'd never been a random victim. Never been collateral damage.

I'd been strategic. A weapon. A tool to bleed the Kings dry.

I lifted my chin slowly. "So I wasn't reclaimed because I'm family." I looked straight at Rowan. "I was reclaimed because I'm valuable."

His answer was immediate. Fierce. Absolute. "You were reclaimed because you're ours."

Lucien closed his eyes briefly. Elias looked exhausted. And for the first time, the word ours didn't sound like family.

It sounded possessive. Dangerous. Like a claim I hadn't agreed to.

I opened the door. "I'm not anyone's," I said, my voice steady.

Then I walked out.

Behind me, the rules had shattered. I wasn't their sister, not by blood, not by law, not by any bond I couldn't break if I wanted to.

Whatever came next would be my choice.

And for the first time in twenty-one years, I was the one holding all the cards.