Chapter 4

The scent of antiseptic mixed with subtle notes of fresh white lilies drifted into Liana’s senses before her eyes even opened.

Soft, high-thread-count Egyptian cotton rested beneath her arms, a stark contrast to the freezing asphalt she remembered.

She shifted slightly, feeling the warm glow of a quiet hospital room washing over her closed eyelids.

Liana opened her eyes, blinking against the gentle, diffused lighting of a massive private suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a panoramic view of the sunrise breaking over the city skyline. Intravenous lines were taped neatly to her hand, pumping warm fluids back into her dehydrated body.

Three tall, strikingly handsome men stood surrounding her bed.

Their expensive tailored suits bore faint water stains around the shoulders, revealing they had not left her side since bringing her in from the storm.

The eldest of the three, a man whose commanding presence radiated unquestionable power, stepped closer.

Leo Carver reached out, his hand visibly shaking as his fingers gently closed around her pale, bruised wrist.

The terrifying, unyielding composure that made corporate titans tremble completely crumbled from his face, replaced by a sudden wave of quiet tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Liana..." Leo rasped, his deep voice thick with decades of suppressed grief.

"You're safe now. You're finally home, little princess."

Liana pulled back slightly, her breath catching in her dry throat as confusion clouded her mind. "Who... who are you? Where am I?"

The second man, wearing gold wire-rimmed glasses and holding a thick leather binder, adjusted his stance.

Cassian Carver offered her a gentle, reassuring smile, stepping beside Leo and resting a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I am Cassian, your older brother," he said softly, opening the binder and placing a document onto the edge of her bed.

"This is Leo, our eldest brother, and Dante, your younger brother. Twenty years ago, you were taken from our family mansion in the middle of the night. We spent every single day of our lives searching for you, tracking every rumor across the globe."

Cassian turned the pages, revealing a formal forensic report printed with official state seals. "This is an indisputable genetic test processed by three separate independent laboratories last night. Your DNA matches our family bloodline perfectly, Liana. You are not an abandoned orphan. You are Liana Carver... the youngest daughter of the Carver family."

Liana stared down at the glowing red text on the document. Match Probability: 99.99%.

Her heart hammered wildly inside her ribs as memories of her harsh childhood—the cold foster homes, the endless neglect, the years spent believing nobody wanted her—collided with the massive truth sitting directly in front of her.

Before she could process the weight of the document, the third man bypassed the edge of the bed entirely.

Dante Carver, whose face was plastered across international billboards and stadium screens worldwide, dropped to his knees beside her pillow.

He wrapped his arms around her upper body, burying his face into the side of her shoulder as heavy tears soaked through her hospital gown.

"We missed you so much, Liana," Dante sobbed, holding her tight enough to anchor her to reality without pressing on her IV lines. "We looked everywhere for you... every single birthday, every Christmas, we saved your gifts in your room. No one is ever going to hurt you again. No one will ever neglect you, ignore you, or make you feel small ever again. I swear it on my life."

Liana sat frozen, her fingers hovering inches above Dante's trembling back before slowly resting against his shoulder.

A strange, suffocating warmth flooded her chest. For three years, Victor Hayes had conditioned her to believe she was a burden—a worthless charity case who deserved cold dinners and empty promises.

Yet here stood three of the most powerful men in the country, weeping openly over her hospital bed simply because she was breathing.

The sheer contrast between her past life and this sudden wave of absolute family devotion left her speechlessly overwhelmed.

Her throat tightened, tears welling in her eyes as the reality of her true identity began to settle into her soul.

She was not a homeless outcast, she belonged to people who loved her beyond measure.

BZZZ. BZZZ.

The harsh vibration of a phone motor buzzed loudly against the polished mahogany nightstand beside her bed.

Liana turned her head, noticing her old, cracked mobile phone plugged into a fast-charging cable provided by the hospital staff.

The screen lit up bright white, displaying a newly received text message from a contact saved as Victor.

Dante pulled back slightly, his red, tear-stained eyes shifting toward the glowing screen.

Leo and Cassian both turned their heads simultaneously, their expressions darkening into predatory focus as the light from the phone reflected against their faces.

Liana reached out, her pale hand picking up the device.

She unlocked the screen and read the text message sent at 6:00 AM sharp:

> Victor: Stop playing this pathetic disappearing game and drag your useless self back to the house right now. Miranda wants fresh poached eggs and organic orange juice for breakfast before 7:00 AM. If you aren't back in the kitchen within thirty minutes, I am changing the front door locks permanently and burning that rag tag suitcase you left in the driveway.

>

Liana stared at the words on the glass screen. For three years, a message like this would have sent her into a panicked rush, forcing her to swallow her pride to appease his anger.

Now, sitting in an ultra-luxurious private suite surrounded by three men whose eyes burned with absolute, protective devotion, the text message read like a sick, pathetic joke from a past life.

She didn't cry nor didn't tremble.

She simply stared at the screen as a cold, sharp stillness settled into her mind.

"Who sent that message, Liana?" Leo asked, his voice dropping into a dangerously quiet register that made the ambient temperature in the hospital room plummet to freezing.

Liana turned her head slowly, looking at her three brothers, and held out the phone screen for them to read.