LOGINThe house did not feel like home anymore. The moment I stepped in, something about the air felt wrong, heavy in a way that pressed against my chest and refused to let go. Bella was sitting on the couch, her fingers tightly intertwined, her gaze distant like she was trying to hold herself together. Lisa stood close to her, unusually quiet, while Riley hovered nearby, clearly confused but too tense to interrupt whatever was already unfolding between us.Elias was still missing, and that alone was enough to snap whatever patience I had left.I shut the door harder than necessary and walked in, my eyes immediately landing on Bella. “Tell me exactly what happened again,” I said, my voice controlled but firm.She looked up at me, her expression fragile but trying to stay composed. “We went to the hospital,” she began, her voice steady at first. “To remove my bandage. Everything was fine. He was normal. Nothing felt off.” She paused, her fingers tightening. “Then on our way back, he said he
The hallway felt longer now, stretching in a way that made every step feel delayed. My mind was running too fast, replaying everything, trying to fit pieces together that did not want to fit.My father. Killed.Not sick. Not weak.But Taken out.And my mother…I stopped walking.No.I could not finish that thought.It felt like betrayal in a way I did not know how to explain. Not just from them, but from my own memories. Everything I thought was real now felt like something carefully arranged.I ran a hand over my face and kept moving.I did not know where I was going until I found myself standing in front of a door I recognized.Vane’s room.My jaw tightened.For a second, I hesitated.Then I knocked.No response.I did not wait. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.He was there.Standing near the window, just l
I could not stay in that room another second. Everything felt wrong. The air, the people, the way they were all looking at me like I was something they already understood but I had no clue about. My chest felt tight, like I could not get enough air, like if I stayed there any longer, I would lose it completely. “I need to get out,” I said, my voice low but firm. No one stopped me this time, That was the part that scared me the most. I turned and walked away before anyone could say anything else. My steps were quick and uneven, but I did not stop. I did not look back. I just needed space. I needed silence. I needed to think without their voices twisting everything in my head. The hallway felt colder now. I could feel it Or maybe that was just me. I reached the first empty corridor I could find and stopped, pressing my hands against the wall as I tried to steady my breathing. My father was killed. The woman I called my mother was not my mother. Vane knew. All of the
“When were you ever going to tell me?”My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I did not care. It cut through the room, through the silence, through whatever control Vane thought he still had over this situation.He looked at me, his expression tight, like he had already expected this question.“I was trying to protect you,” he said. “I did not want you to be part of it.”I let out a short, disbelieving laugh.“But I am not part of it,” I shot back. “I never asked to be part of whatever this is.”I turned to him immediately, irritation flashing.“What is that supposed to mean?”His eyes held mine, calm and steady, like he had all the time in the world.“It means,” he continued, “you have always been part of this, Elias. You just did not know it.”My jaw tightened.“No. Stop doing that. Stop talking like everything is some kind of hidden puzzle. Just say it.”Cyrus smiled faintly.“Very well.”Something in my chest tightened without warning.“Your father,” he said, “did not die
The walk downstairs felt longer than it should have.Every step echoed in my ears, too loud, too sharp, like the house itself was paying attention. Watching me. Waiting for me to make the wrong move.I kept my face neutral, but inside, everything felt tight.The men who had been laughing earlier were now standing in small groups, speaking in low tones. No one was relaxed anymore. No one was drinking. It felt like something had shifted, like whatever this was had moved from casual to serious.My eyes moved across the room slowly.Then I saw him.Cyrus stood near the center, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass he was not drinking from. His posture was calm, controlled, like always, but there was something else there now.And beside him—My breath caught slightly.Vane.For a second, my brain refused to process it. Vane was supposed to be in Chicago.But he was here.Standing next to Cyrus like this was normal. Like this was where he belonged.“Elias,” Cyrus said smoothly,
There were very few things in this world that genuinely held my attention.Power did not impress me. Wealth did not impress me. Men who thought they ruled cities amused me more than anything else. I had seen too many rise and fall to be moved by temporary control.But Elias?Elias was different.I stood by the balcony, a glass of untouched liquor in my hand, watching the estate stretch into the darkness. From the outside, this place looked like nothing more than another wealthy man’s property. Inside, it was something else entirely.A game.A dangerous one.And at the center of it, without even realizing it, was him.My gaze shifted slightly as I thought about earlier. The way he reacted. The way he held himself even after witnessing something most people would break from.Fear had been there, yes. I saw it clearly.But so was something else.Defiance. That was rare.Most people bent the moment they understood where they were. They adapted quickly, choosing silence over resistance. El
The front door slammed open so hard the crystal chandelier in the foyer rattled.I didn’t hear it at first—my ears were ringing, my head swimming in a thick fog of pain and shock. Victoria was still straddling me on the marble, her knees pinning my arms, the jagged shard of vase pressed to my throa
The car rolled to a stop outside the freshman dorms, tires crunching on the leaf-strewn curb. Stanford’s campus hit me like a wave—red-tiled roofs, palm trees swaying against blue sky, students everywhere hauling boxes, laughing, hugging parents goodbye. It smelled like eucalyptus and new beginning
Packing didn’t take long.I stood in the driveway staring at two black SUVs—both gleaming, both loaded with the small life I’d decided to take to Stanford. Two suitcases (one for clothes, one for books and tech), a duffel of shoes and random shit, my laptop bag, a box of bedding Mom insisted on buy
The Lisbon apartment had one good feature: the balcony overlooked a narrow street where people actually lived. Not tourists. Not expats. Real people—old women hanging laundry at dawn, kids kicking a deflated soccer ball until it rolled into the gutter, a guy in a stained apron smoking while he swep







