Chapter 3 3.

AMALIA'S POV

I wake up to the smell of antiseptic and the soft hum of machinery. My body feels heavy, my limbs like they're weighed down, but it's the tug of wires and monitors that makes me fully aware of where I am-or at least that I'm not anywhere normal.

My eyes flicker open, and I'm greeted by the dim light of a familiar space. It takes me a second to realize I'm not in a hospital; I'm at one of Sebastian's secret warehouses. The one his parents don't know about. Relief floods me-at least this isn't some random hospital where questions would've been asked.

As I shift slightly, the pull of fabric against my skin feels... off. I glance down and freeze. My clothes-my usual mission gear-are gone, replaced with a loose t-shirt and sweatpants. Panic claws at my chest as my mind races.

The marks.

The bruises.

The bite mark on my neck.

I swallow hard, my fingers brushing over the fabric at my throat. No one was supposed to see that. Not Seb. Not Eli. Not anyone.

The door creaks open, and my heart leaps before I see Sebastian walk in, balancing a laptop on one hand and adjusting his glasses with the other. He looks... different like this. His usual cocky smirk is missing, replaced with an expression that's softer, more serious. But when he sees me awake, his face lights up.

"You're awake," he says, relief lacing his voice as he sets the laptop down on the small table nearby.

Before I can say a word, he crosses the room and wraps me in a hug. It's warm, grounding, and I almost sink into it-almost.

"You scared the hell out of me, Mal," he says, pulling back to look at me. His hands linger on my shoulders, his eyes scanning my face like he's checking to make sure I'm really okay.

"I'm fine," I say, my voice hoarse. I'm lying, of course, but I've gotten good at that.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow but doesn't argue. "Linda said you'd pull through. She's a genius, by the way. If you haven't thanked her yet, I will for both of us."

That name catches my attention, and my stomach unclenches slightly. "Linda..." I trail off, glancing down at my changed clothes again. "Who... who changed me?"

Sebastian gives me a look, already knowing what I'm worried about. "Linda," he says firmly. "She's the only one I'd trust with that. I know better."

I nod slowly, the tension in my chest easing just a bit. Linda's the only person besides Seb and Eli I trust with anything remotely personal. If she handled it, I can deal with it.

Before I can say anything else, the door opens again, and Eliana bursts in, a bar of chocolate in one hand and her usual flustered energy in full force.

"Lia!" she exclaims, hurrying over to me. She practically throws herself into a hug, careful not to bump the wires or bandages but still managing to make it feel like a full-body tackle.

"Nice to see you too, Ana," I mumble, though there's a small smile tugging at my lips.

She pulls back, holding the chocolate up like a peace offering. "I brought this because you looked like death last night. But seriously, what were you thinking? Getting stabbed like that?"

"It wasn't exactly part of the plan," I say dryly, earning a glare from her and a chuckle from Seb.

Eli crosses her arms, pretending to be mad, but I can see the relief in her eyes. "Next time, try not to get poisoned, okay? You're stressing me out."

"Noted," I reply, smirking.

Sebastian sits on the edge of the bed, shaking his head. "You're lucky Linda was nearby. That poison wasn't a joke. If I hadn't gotten you here in time..." He trails off, his jaw tightening.

"I'm fine now," I say, hoping to reassure both of them, even if my shoulder still aches like hell.

Eli narrows her eyes. "Fine or not, you're not leaving this bed until Linda clears you. Got it?"

I nod, knowing better than to argue with her when she's in protective mode. For now, I let myself relax, surrounded by the only two people who've ever made me feel safe. Even if they drive me crazy sometimes, they're mine. And I'll always be theirs.

The room falls into a comfortable silence as I pick at the edges of the blanket covering me, letting the faint hum of the machines fill the space. But my mind is racing, and I can't hold the question back anymore.

"How long was I out?" I ask, my voice quiet but steady as I glance between Sebastian and Eliana.

Sebastian leans back in the chair he dragged over, pushing his glasses up. "Two days," he says casually, like it's nothing.

"Two days?" I echo, sitting up a little too fast. Pain shoots through my shoulder, but I ignore it. "Aurora."

Eliana furrows her brows. "What about Aurora?"

"She's alone," I say quickly, the words spilling out as my chest tightens. "What if she hasn't eaten? What if something happened? She can barely take care of herself. I-"

"Amalia." Eliana's voice cuts through my panic, calm and steady, and she moves to sit on the edge of the bed. She places a hand on my uninjured shoulder, forcing me to meet her gaze. "She's fine."

I blink, trying to process her words. "What do you mean?"

"I've been checking on her," Eliana says, her tone gentle. "I've brought her food and made sure she's okay. She didn't really want to talk to me, but I told her you'd be back soon. Not that she seemed to care, but at least she knows."

That takes some of the weight off my chest, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "You've been checking on her?"

Eliana nods, her expression softening. "Of course. I know how much she means to you."

"Thank you," I murmur, the words feeling heavier than usual. I don't thank people often, but Eliana deserves it.

Sebastian clears his throat dramatically from his chair. "Don't get too comfortable, Mal. I've got a question."

I arch a brow at him. "What?"

"Are you going to ask about Emilio, or should I just pretend he doesn't exist?"

I roll my eyes, but there's a small smile tugging at my lips. "Fine. Where is Emilio?"

I miss the idiot

Sebastian smirks. "He's in Vegas. Lucky bastard got sent on a mission there, and he won't be back until next week."

"Of course he's in Vegas," I mutter, shaking my head. Emilio, the most childish and chaotic member of our group, in a place like Vegas? That's a recipe for disaster. "Who's idea was that?"

"Not mine," Sebastian says with a shrug. "But knowing him, he's probably having the time of his life."

Eliana chuckles softly. "Hopefully he doesn't cause too much trouble before he gets back."

I lean back against the pillows, feeling a little more at ease now. Aurora's fine, Emilio's being his usual self, and my shoulder might be killing me, but at least I'm alive.

"Great," I mutter, half to myself. "Now I just need to make sure none of you get yourselves killed before I'm back on my feet."

Sebastian grins. "Oh, don't worry. We're all perfectly capable. Well... most of us."

Eliana swats his arm, and I can't help but laugh, the sound low and almost foreign in the quiet room. For the first time in days, I let myself relax. If anyone can hold things together while I recover, it's them.

꧁☆꧂

The door closes behind me with a soft click, and for the first time in days, I'm home. The space feels quieter than usual, probably because Aurora's at school. There's a sense of peace in the air, but it doesn't last long because, of course, Sebastian is right on my heels.

"You should sit," he says, his tone firm but teasing as I head straight for the kitchen.

"I'm fine," I reply, already tying my hair up and rolling my shoulders despite the dull ache.

"Mal." His voice is sharper now, and I can hear the unspoken "don't push yourself" laced in his words.

I turn and give him a look, one brow raised, my lips pressing into a thin line. He freezes mid-step, his hands halfway to his hips.

"Fine," he grumbles, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Kill yourself making tacos, then."

"That's the plan," I shoot back, smirking as I pull ingredients from the fridge.

Sebastian leans against the counter, crossing his arms like he's settling in to keep an eye on me. "At least let me help. I can dice something or..." He pauses, watching me pull a knife from the block. "...actually, I'll just supervise. Don't want to lose a finger."

"You're hopeless," I mutter, shaking my head as I start prepping the meat.

While I work, Sebastian wanders over to the speaker mounted on the wall and scrolls through his phone. A few moments later, the first notes of The Hills by The Weeknd fill the kitchen.

I glance over my shoulder. "Seriously? You had to pick this one? I listened to it with Eliana about 5 times"

"What? The Weeknd's a vibe," he says, grinning as he plops onto one of the barstools, spinning lazily in a circle. "Besides, it's better than silence. Or whatever depressing murder playlist you've been listening to."

I roll my eyes but let the music play. It's hard to argue when the beat makes the whole kitchen feel alive, the kind of atmosphere that makes cooking less of a chore.

Sebastian starts tapping out the rhythm on the counter, his head bobbing slightly. "You know, if this whole assassin thing doesn't work out, you could open a taco stand. 'Scarlett's Tacos.' I'd invest."

"Shut up, Ian," I say, but there's a ghost of a smile on my lips.

He laughs, the sound loud and carefree, and for a moment, it's like nothing else exists but this-music, laughter, and the smell of food filling the air.

By the time the tacos are done, Sebastian's sprawled across the barstool like he owns the place, and I'm too tired to argue. I set a plate in front of him, and he sits up, eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas.

"Best tacos in the world," he declares, taking a bite.

I lean against the counter, finally letting myself relax. "Damn right they are."

For now, the world outside doesn't matter. It's just us, the Weeknd, and tacos. And for the first time in a long while, I feel like things might actually be okay.

꧁☆꧂

The clock reads 11:07 PM when I hear the front door creak open. My heart sinks in both relief and frustration. Aurora's finally home. I've been pacing the living room for the last hour, trying not to think about all the places she could have been, why her location was off-why now, of all times, she decided to make me worry.

I get up and move toward the hallway, catching sight of her slipping off her shoes like she's trying not to make noise.

"Where have you been?" I ask, my voice sharper than I intend.

She straightens, her back to me, but doesn't answer right away.

"Aurora," I press, stepping closer. "Your location's always on. Why was it off? You know-"

She turns around, cutting me off with a glare. "Where have you been?"

I freeze for a moment, her words hitting harder than they should. She's angry. No, not just angry-hurt. And she's still not letting me in.

Her eyes search mine like she's daring me to answer, but I don't know what to say. I can't exactly tell her the truth, not when I've worked so hard to keep her away from the mess that is my life.

When I don't respond, she shakes her head, muttering something under her breath before heading for the stairs.

"Aurora, wait," I call after her, following.

She doesn't stop.

By the time I reach her, she's already at her bedroom door. She turns, just for a second, her expression unreadable. Then she slams the door in my face.

I stand there, staring at the closed door, my hand hovering in the air like I was about to knock but never got the chance.

The sound of the lock clicking makes my chest tighten, but I don't try to force my way in. What would be the point?

With a heavy sigh, I lower my hand and head back to my room. The silence in the house feels heavier than usual, suffocating. I sit on the edge of my bed, running a hand through my curls, trying to figure out where I went wrong-how to fix this.

But for now, all I can do is wait. And hope that, someday, she'll let me in again.