Albert mansion

Chapter 3: The Albert Family

I stood there in the rain, water running down my face, my clothes completely soaked through. The four black cars surrounded me like a cage. Their engines were still running, the headlights cutting through the gray storm.

Then the doors opened.

Three men stepped out.

My breath caught in my throat.

I knew these faces. Everyone knew these faces.

The first man was tall, wearing a perfectly tailored suit that probably cost more than everything I had ever owned combined. His hair was dark and styled back, his jaw sharp, his eyes intense even from a distance. Alex Albert. The youngest billionaire CEO in the world. Twenty-eight years old and worth more money than some small countries. His face was on magazine covers every month.

The second man was just as tall, but his style was different. More casual. A designer jacket over a fitted shirt, his hair a little longer, his smile the kind that made millions of women scream his name. Ryan Albert. Top actor. His movies made billions. His face was everywhere—billboards, TV screens, the internet. He had won every award there was to win.

The third man was older, maybe in his thirties, with sharp features and glasses that made him look both intelligent and dangerous. He wore a three-piece suit despite the rain, not a single hair out of place. James Albert. The lawyer who had never lost a case. Not one. In his entire career. People called him "The Shark" because once he locked onto a case, he never let go until he won.

But why were they here?

What did they want with me?

I tried to think. Tried to remember if I had ever done anything to offend anyone rich or powerful. But I hadn't. I barely left the house. I barely spoke to anyone. I was nobody.

An older man stepped out from the first car. He was probably in his fifties, dressed in a neat black suit with an umbrella already open in his hand. He walked toward me, calm and steady, like the rain wasn't even there.

He held the umbrella over my head, blocking the rain. I was already soaked, but the gesture was so unexpected I just stared at him.

"Young heiress," he said, his voice gentle and respectful. "Please, get into the car."

Young heiress?

I took a step back, shaking my head. Water dripped from my hair into my eyes. "I think you have the wrong person."

"We don't," the older man said.

"I'm serious. I don't have any money. I don't have anything. If this is some kind of scam or kidnapping attempt, I'm telling you right now—I'm broke. I don't have a dime on me."

But even as I said it, I knew how ridiculous I sounded. These men were standing in front of cars that each cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. They were wearing clothes worth more than my entire year's salary at the coffee shop I used to work at. They didn't need money from me.

Alex Albert stepped forward. His eyes locked onto mine, and I felt pinned in place. "Rose," he said.

I blinked. "My name is Amira."

"No," he said firmly. "Your name is Rose. Rose Albert. And you're our sister."

Sister?

I stared at him. Then at the other two men. Then back at him.

"I don't have any brothers. I'm an orphan. I've been an orphan my whole life. You're mistaken."

"We're not," Ryan Albert said, walking closer. His voice was softer than Alex's, almost pleading. "Rose, we've been looking for you for thirteen years. Thirteen years. We never stopped."

Thirteen years?

My head was spinning. The rain felt colder. My suitcase handle slipped from my hand, and it fell onto its side in the puddle next to me.

James Albert adjusted his glasses and stepped forward, his voice calm and precise. "Your name is Rose Albert. You were born into the Albert family on March 15th. You were kidnapped when you were two years old during our mother's funeral. We searched everywhere. We hired investigators, private detectives, we offered rewards—millions of dollars. But we couldn't find you."

I shook my head harder. "No. No, that's not possible. I would remember—"

"You were two," Alex cut in. "You wouldn't remember."

"I'm not—this is insane. I'm not who you think I am."

Ryan pulled something from his jacket pocket. A photo. He held it up, and even in the rain, I could see it clearly.

It was a picture of a little girl. Maybe two years old. She had curly dark hair and big brown eyes. She was laughing, her tiny hands reaching toward the camera.

She looked exactly like me.

"This is you," Ryan said quietly. "This was taken two weeks before you were taken from us."

My hands started shaking again, but this time it wasn't from the cold.

"We've had investigators tracking every lead for over a decade," James said, his lawyer voice cutting through the rain. "Two months ago, one of them found a record. A small orphanage outside the city that burned down eleven years ago. Most of their records were destroyed, but we found one intake form. A girl named Amira, brought in at age three. No last name. No parents. No history."

"That doesn't prove anything," I whispered.

"We ran a DNA test," Alex said. He pulled out a folder from inside his jacket, somehow keeping it dry. "Three weeks ago, we obtained a sample from you. A coffee cup you threw away at a grocery store."

They had been following me. Watching me.

"The results came back yesterday," Alex continued. "99.9% match. You are Rose Albert. You are our sister."

I couldn't breathe.

"Rose, listen to me," Ryan said, stepping even closer. The rain was soaking through his expensive jacket, but he didn't seem to care. "When you were taken, it destroyed our family. Our mother had just died, and then we lost you too. Father spent every penny he had searching for you. We all did. Alex put off college for two years to help search. James became a lawyer so he could have access to legal resources to find you. I became famous so my face would be everywhere, hoping someone would see me and remember seeing a little girl who looked like us."

My chest tightened.

"We built our lives around finding you," James added, his voice still controlled but with an edge of emotion. "Every success, every achievement, every dollar we made—it all went back into the search. We never gave up. We never stopped believing you were out there."

"Please," Ryan whispered. "Just come with us. Let us prove it to you. You're soaked. You're standing in the rain with nowhere to go. Just let us take you home."

Home.

I didn't have a home. Not anymore.

The older man with the umbrella was still standing next to me, waiting patiently. He gestured toward the open car door.

My legs felt weak. My mind was screaming at me that this was crazy, that this couldn't be real, that I should run.

But where would I run to?

I looked back at the Quinn mansion in the distance. The place that had destroyed me piece by piece for three years.

Then I looked at the three men standing in the rain, looking at me like I was something precious. Something they had lost and finally found.

I took a shaky step forward.

Then another.

The older man guided me gently toward the car. I climbed inside, my wet clothes soaking into the leather seats. Ryan got in next to me. Alex took the front passenger seat. James got into a different car. The older man closed my door and took my suitcase to the trunk.

The car started moving.

I sat there, staring at my hands in my lap, trying to process what was happening. Trying to understand how my entire life had just changed in five minutes.

"We're taking you home," Ryan said beside me. His voice was warm. Kind. "To the Albert estate. You'll be safe there."

I didn't respond. I couldn't.

The drive felt like it lasted both seconds and hours. I watched the city pass by through the rain-streaked window. Watched as we left the busy streets and entered a part of town I had never been to. The rich part. The part where the houses had gates and security and lawns bigger than entire neighborhoods.

The car turned onto a private road. Ahead, I saw gates. Massive iron gates with an ornate "A" in the center. They opened automatically as we approached.

And then I saw the house.

No. Not a house. A mansion. An estate. It was three times bigger than the Quinn family mansion. Maybe four times. It stretched out in both directions, made of white stone and glass, with perfectly manicured gardens and fountains and pathways.

My mouth fell open.

"Welcome home, Rose," Alex said from the front seat.

The car pulled up to the front entrance. The door opened, and the older man held the umbrella over me again as I stepped out. My legs felt like jelly. I stared up at the massive front doors.

They opened.

A man stood there. Old. Probably in his seventies. He had gray hair, deep lines in his face, and eyes that looked tired but kind. He wore an expensive suit, but his tie was loose like he had been waiting anxiously.

He looked at me.

And his eyes filled with tears.

"Rose," he whispered. His voice shook. "My daughter. You're finally home."

Daughter?

This was my father?

He walked down the front steps, ignoring the rain, and stopped right in front of me. His hands reached out slowly, carefully, like he was afraid I might disappear if he moved too fast.

"I thought I'd lost you forever," he said, his voice breaking. "I never stopped looking. Never stopped hoping. And now you're here. You're really here."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to feel.

"Father, you're getting wet." A voice came from the doorway.

I looked up.

A girl stood there. She looked about my age, maybe a year younger. She was beautiful—perfectly styled hair, designer clothes, flawless makeup. She smiled at me, but something about it felt wrong. It didn't reach her eyes.

"Oh my goodness, you must be Rose!" She walked down the steps, her heels clicking against the stone. "I'm Maria. Your step-sister. I've heard so much about you."

Step-sister.

She came closer and pulled me into a hug. Her arms wrapped around me tight, but her body was stiff. Uncomfortable.

"Welcome home," she whispered in my ear.

But her voice was cold.

She pulled back, still smiling that fake smile. "Come inside. You're soaking wet. Let's get you cleaned up."

My father—the man who said he was my father—gestured toward the door. "Please, Rose. Come in. This is your home. It always has been."

I looked at the mansion. At my father. At my three brothers standing behind me. At Maria with her perfect smile and cold eyes.

And I took my first step inside.

The door closed behind me with a heavy thud that echoed through the massive entrance hall.

My old life was gone.

And I had no idea what this new one would bring.