Chapter 5

ASTRID

I stood frozen, the sting on my cheek from Roxana’s nails barely registering. All I could hear were the Patriarch’s words echoing in my skull.

My daughter.

My lips parted, but no sound came out. My tongue felt heavy, useless. All I could do was stare at the tall, commanding man standing before me. His silver-streaked hair was neatly combed back, his posture straight despite his age.

The world tilted slightly as his eyes—sharp and ancient—held mine with an intensity that made my stomach twist.

There was something in them. Recognition? Pain? Love? I couldn’t tell. But it pulled at a part of me I didn’t even know existed.

Before I could force a single word through my dry throat, Roxana’s loud, bitter laugh shattered the silence.

“Oh, this is rich!” she sneered, throwing her head back. “You’re really going to stand here and claim this nobody is your daughter just to cover for your useless son?”

She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me, her lips curled in disgust. “Look at her! She’s nobody. There’s no way someone like that belongs in this family. You’re protecting your son, Baba. We all know it.”

Her words sliced deep. I flinched, wrapping my arms around myself. The beautiful silk dress they had given me at the hospital suddenly felt too big, too foreign on my body.

I wasn’t supposed to be here. I didn’t belong in this world of mansions and powerful, handsome men and screaming wives.

The Patriarch’s face darkened like a gathering storm.

“Mind your words, Roxana,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re my son’s ex-wife and are already on thin ice. Do not test my patience any further.”

Roxana huffed loudly, flipping her red hair over her shoulder with dramatic flair. For a second, I thought she might argue back, but something in the old man’s eyes must have warned her. She shot me one final venomous glare, her eyes promising pain if she ever got me alone.

“Fine,” she spat, spinning on her heels and storming toward her car, her heels clicking angrily against the stone driveway. “Keep playing your games. But don’t think I’ll let this go.”

The moment her car disappeared down the long drive, the Patriarch turned to the rest of us.

“Inside,” he commanded. “This is not a discussion that should be handled in front of the entire household.”

The heavy double doors closed behind us with a soft thud that still managed to sound final. My legs felt like lead. Every step echoed in the enormous hallway lined with crystal chandeliers and paintings that probably cost more than everything I’d ever owned.

Kian moved close to my side, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Hey… breathe,” he murmured, his voice soft. “You’re safe here. I promise.”

His kindness should have comforted me. But his words slid right off me. I pulled away from him and walked straight toward the Patriarch, stopping just a few feet away.

“I… I need answers,” I managed, my voice shaky but determined. “Who are you and why did you call me your daughter? What’s going on? I don’t understand any of this.”

The old man sighed deeply, the lines on his face seeming to deepen. For a moment, I saw something vulnerable in his eyes.

“My name is Elias Zarvan, owner of the Zarvan Empire… and yes, I’m your father,” he said softly. “I lost you, but I’m glad to have found you, Astrid. I will explain everything… but in due time. Right now, you need to rest and recover. Your body and mind have been through too much.”

Arman stepped forward immediately, his handsome face tight with frustration. “Father, you can’t be serious. There’s no reason to wait—she deserves the truth.”

I gulped, my eyes darting between Arman’s angry stance, Kian’s worried expression, and Kaveh, who stood silently by the window holding his daughter.

My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Elias Zarvan.

The name was not familiar to me in any way. My head was starting to ache.

Elias raised his hand, silencing Arman with a single look.

“Enough. Do not argue with me on this. You will all do as you are told. Astrid needs time to recover. That is what matters now.”

I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. Fear and confusion pushed the words out of me.

“I may be an orphan,” I said, my voice cracking, “but I remember my family. You can’t just… claim me like this and expect me to accept it without explanation.” Before anyone could respond, Soraya’s high-pitched whine cut through the tension. The little girl tugged impatiently on her grandfather’s sleeve, her pretty face scrunched up in annoyance.

“Baba, tell her to listen to you and stop being so rude! She just arrived and she’s already causing problems.”

I wanted to snap at the girl, tell her that I wasn’t being rude that I was terrified for my life.

But the words died in my throat when Soraya suddenly changed tactics.

Her expression shifted into a bright, innocent smile as if she was a much younger child and not a girl of about thirteen.

She looked up at the old man with pleading eyes. “Can we go play that game you promised me? The one with the horses?”

Elias’s stern face melted instantly. He looked down at his granddaughter with pure affection. “Of course, my little star.”

Without another word, he scooped her up into his strong arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her away, leaving the hallway thick with silence.

I stood there, staring at the empty doorway, my mind spinning with questions that had no answers. A few minutes passed. The brothers exchanged glances, but no one spoke until Kian finally cleared his throat and stepped closer to me again. These strangers were trying to rewrite my entire life.

“I don’t want to go to the room.” I shook my head slowly, tears burning at the corners of my eyes. “I want to go back home.”

“This is your home,” Arman cut in.

“No. It is not.”

Kian’s face softened with something that looked like pity mixed with sadness. “Astrid…” he started, but I cut him off.

“Take me back! I don’t belong here.”

The words hung heavy in the air between us. For the first time since waking up in that hospital, I felt truly lost. Everything I thought I knew had been ripped away.

And now this family—this strange, powerful family—was claiming me like I was some missing piece of their puzzle.

Arman cursed under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. Kaveh remained quiet, watching me with an unreadable expression. The weight of their gazes pressed down on me until I felt like I might crumble.

I didn’t know them.

And right now, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“Come on, Astrid. Let me take you back to your room. You look exhausted.”

I turned to look at him—really look at him. Kind brown eyes. A gentle voice and a muscular build that wasn’t intimidating like Arman or Kaveh. He gave me a soft smile, which should have been reassuring, but it only made the emptiness inside me grow.