Chapter 007

I stared at the streets of New York, bursting with fast-paced energy and night lights that made it seem like midday, through out the bulletproof black SUV window. 

Luca was driving, with Marco seated beside him. Angelo was asleep in my lap as I was questioning my decision to return to this place—which brought back painful memories of that cursed day.

Was it a good decision? Or was it a mistake that would reopen wounds I’d been trying to forget?

My gaze shifted from the window and locked with Luca’s captivating eyes in the rearview mirror. 

A shiver ran down my spine, and butterflies erupted in my stomach. How could he still affect me the way he used to be in the past?

I drafted my gaze away as I sighed, pretending to be bored. I wasn’t going to let my stupid heart fall again. Not this man. Never.

I heard a scoffed laugh—dry one— from Luca at my reaction.

Security vehicles surrounded us from the front and the back. 

Why all this tight protection? I remember Papa Gerald always insisting on such measures every time I went out, but I never knew why they were that necessary.

As soon as we entered the street leading to the Hayden estate, my heart began to pound fiercely.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed this place until we passed through the massive bronze gates.

‘I won’t cry, I won’t cry, I won’t cry…’ I kept repeating to myself to avoid breaking down. 

This was my childhood home. The place where I lived the best years of my life—and the worst moment of it too.

I opened the car door and was about to carry the sleepy Angelo in my arms, when Luca said in a deep, ordering, dry tone, “I’ll carry him.” 

I didn’t want him near me or my son—not even an inch—but my legs felt like jelly, unable to hold my body, let alone carry Angelo.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as I walked toward the mansion's main door, with Luca on my right carrying Angelo, and Marco—who hadn’t uttered a word since we got into the car after landing from the private jet—on my left.

I paused for a few seconds to take in the sight of the grand door.

I lifted my head high and stepped through the door I was once thrown out of. 

Everything was exactly the same—the antiques, the luxurious furniture, the grand crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. 

And the scent… that unique scent of this mansion… a mix of comforting safety and blood. Opposites.

Luca glanced sideways at the maid who was dusting furniture, and she disappeared instantly.

“Welcome home,” Marco whispered, so softly I wasn’t even sure he said it. But I replied anyway, “It never was and never will be my home.”

“Mila! You’re finally here!” Mama Marcellia called out warmly, rushing toward me with a wide welcoming smile.

“I’ve missed you so much, my sweet daughter,” she added as she wrapped her arms around me with a tender embrace, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

I hugged her back, but I quickly wiped away a tear that escaped my eye before anyone could notice.

Maybe I sounded cold-hearted, but weren't they who pushed me away? 

However, I wasn’t here for feelings. I came for secrets. 

Secrets that haunted me for the past four years. I still remember Papa Gerald’s words: “Get out of my house. You look like her. She had given birth to her copy of a monster before she died!”

A large hand pulled me away from Mama Marcellia’s arms before I suddenly found myself lifted into the air by Ricardo.

“Sis! I missed you so much!” he shouted excitedly.

I smiled despite myself and shouted back, “Put me down, you crazy!”

The moment my feet touched the ground, my eyes met Luca’s cold black gaze. 

He walked over to the couch and gently laid Angelo down next to a girl I hadn’t noticed until now. 

She stood up and hugged Luca the moment he straightened up. “I missed you!” she whispered.

She was tall, with fiery red hair, marble-like skin, and a red dress that barely covered her perfectly sculpted body.

It was obvious there was something between them. Could it be that she's his girlfriend? Or worse… his wife?

I turned my eyes away and reminded myself that I was only here for one goal, and then I’d return to my normal life.

I asked, “Where is Papa Gerald?”

“Here,” came Aunt Miranda’s cold voice.

I turned to find her pushing a wheelchair. And in it… was Papa Gerald.

My eyes widened in shock—Papa was now paralyzed?

I froze, emotions storming inside me. I never thought I’d see the strong, feared man look like this. Fragile.

He even seemed ten years older instead of just four. 

When his wheelchair stopped in front of me, I bowed my head in respect as I whispered, “Papa…”

He smiled softly and said, “Mila.”

I didn’t run into his arms though. He didn’t ask me to. His eyes held nothing but disappointment. I could feel it. That same look from that night was still in his eyes.

He was still blaming me!

So why had he called me back?

I had a bad feeling about coming back...