Chapter 5 5.

AMALIA'S POV

Sebastian's arm is draped lazily over my waist as we sit curled up on the couch, Tangled playing on the TV. His fingers trace light circles on my side, and I can feel his body relax against mine. I'm mouthing along to the lyrics of I See the Light, not even trying to hide my obsession with the movie, when the safe house door slams open.

Both of us jolt upright, Sebastian's hand instinctively going toward his waistband where I know he's hiding a gun. But when we see who it is, any tension evaporates instantly.

Standing in the doorway, grinning like he owns the place, is none other than Emilio. His blonde, fluffy hair is a mess, his cheeks are flushed, and he's wearing his usual cocky smirk.

"GUESS WHOS BACK BITCHES!!"

"EMMY!" I scream, jumping up so fast I nearly trip over the coffee table. I throw myself at him, and he catches me with ease, spinning me around like we're in the middle of a rom-com.

"Damn, Mal, did you miss me that much?" he teases, though his tone is warm.

I cling to him for a second longer before he starts walking-with me still in his arms-back to the couch. Without warning, he dumps me unceremoniously onto Sebastian's lap, earning a sharp "What the hell, Emilio?" from him.

But Emilio's already on his next mission: launching himself onto Sebastian like a human cannonball.

"Sebbieeee my lovee!" Emilio drawls, wrapping his arms around him like a koala and squishing me between them.

Sebastian groans, trying to shove him off while still keeping me balanced. "Get off, you lunatic! You're crushing me!"

Emilio, of course, ignores him entirely. "Oh, come on. Admit it-you missed me, too!"

Sebastian finally gives up, rolling his eyes as he leans back into the couch. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Now can you get off me before I suffocate?"

The three of us dissolve into laughter, Emilio rolling onto the other side of the couch, clutching his stomach as he howls. I wipe away a tear from laughing so hard, glancing between the two of them.

"You're such an idiot," I tell Emilio, still catching my breath.

"And you love me for it," he shoots back, winking.

"Unfortunately."

Sebastian sighs dramatically, brushing blonde strands of Emilio's hair out of his face. "I forgot how exhausting you are. Can't we just kick you out again?"

"Never," Emilio says, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "You two would die of boredom without me."

And, as much as I hate to admit it, he's not wrong.

We're all sprawled out on the couch now, Tangled long forgotten in the background. Sebastian is leaning against the armrest, half-listening while scrolling through something on his phone, and Emilio is lying across the other end of the couch, taking up way too much space, as always.

"So," I start, fixing Emilio with a pointed look, "are you finally going to tell us what the hell took you so long in Las Vegas? The mission should've been a week, tops."

Emilio doesn't even flinch. Instead, he stretches lazily, like a cat, and gives me that infuriatingly smug grin of his. "Oh, it didn't take long. A week was all it took to deal with those traffickers."

I narrow my eyes. "Then what were you doing for the other three weeks?"

"Oh, you know," he says casually, inspecting his nails as if this isn't a big deal. "Had a little solo holiday. Hit up some gay clubs, made some friends, danced my ass off. You'd be surprised how many hot guys are out there."

For a moment, I'm stunned into silence, but then the realization of what he just said fully hits me. "A holiday?! You went on vacation while I was losing my mind thinking you were dead?!"

He shrugs, completely unfazed by my growing fury. "What? I deserved a break."

"You didn't even reply to my texts!" I practically yell, glaring at him. "Do you have any idea how many times I almost called in a search team to find your stupid ass?!"

Sebastian snorts from his end of the couch, clearly amused by the whole thing. "Honestly, Mal, this is classic Emilio behavior. You should've expected it."

"Ian, shut up," I snap, but my attention is back on Emilio, who's now laughing like this is the funniest thing in the world.

"Oh, come on," he says, waving me off. "You know nothing can happen to me. I'm Void, remember? No one can touch me."

I grab a pillow and hurl it at him with as much force as I can muster. He catches it with ease, still grinning like an idiot. "You're lucky I don't strangle you right now, Void."

"I missed you too, Mal," he says, throwing the pillow back at me with far less force.

"Fuck off," I mutter, crossing my arms and slumping back against Sebastian, who just pats my shoulder like I'm a child throwing a tantrum.

"Look on the bright side," Emilio says, leaning back like he owns the place. "I brought back stories. Wanna hear about the guy who tried to buy me a Lamborghini just for one night?"

"Absolutely not," I say, already feeling a headache coming on.

But Emilio just starts talking anyway, because of course he does. And as much as I want to stay mad, I can't help but laugh at his ridiculousness. Even if he drives me insane, I'm glad he's back.

꧁☆꧂

I shouldn't have come. The thought echoes in my mind as soon as I step into the house and see their faces-cold, furious, and ready to unleash hell. My adoptive father stands with his arms crossed, his sharp eyes cutting through me like knives, while my adoptive mother clutches the edge of the counter, her knuckles white.

I freeze in the doorway, my instincts screaming at me to turn and run. But I don't. I can't. For reasons I don't even understand, I keep coming back here, even when every visit leaves me more broken than the last.

"You're late," my father growls, his voice dripping with disdain. He takes a step forward, and I can feel the weight of his presence bearing down on me.

"I-" I don't even get a chance to finish before his hand shoots out, grabbing me by the neck.

"Doll," he sneers, the sickening nickname rolling off his tongue like poison. His grip tightens, cutting off my air, and my stomach churns at the word. It always does.

I claw at his hand, but it's useless-he's stronger, and he knows it. My mother steps forward now, and for a split second, I think she might stop him. But no. Of course not. Instead, she reaches behind her and pulls out a knife.

"No!" I choke out, thrashing against his grip, but it's no use. He slams me down onto the nearest table, holding me in place as if I weigh nothing.

"Stop squirming," my mother snaps, her tone sharp and impatient. She presses the blade to my arm, and I feel the first sting as it bites into my skin.

I bite down on my lip to keep from screaming, refusing to give them the satisfaction. The pain is sharp, blinding, and I can feel the blood running down my arm, but I stay silent.

"That's better," my father says, his tone almost mocking. "You're always so much prettier when you're quiet, doll."

I want to scream, to kick, to fight back, but I can't. Not yet. Not here. All I can do is endure, counting the seconds until I can leave and never look back.

As my mother carves into my skin, her expression cold and detached, I feel the weight of every scar they've ever given me. Every mark they've left, every piece of me they've taken. And I know that someday, I'll make them pay.

But for now, I endure. Because that's all I can do.

AURORA'S POV

"Aurora Hera, please make your way to the front office. Aurora Hera to the front office."

The announcement crackles through the speaker, pulling me out of my half-asleep daze in math class. A few heads turn to look at me, curiosity clear on their faces, but I ignore them. Confusion settles over me as I grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. Why would they need me in the office? I didn't do anything... at least, nothing recently.

I push my chair back and make my way out of the room, my mind racing through possibilities. Maybe it's a scheduling issue? Maybe Amalia forgot something and called the school? Yeah, that could be it.

When I reach the office, I knock lightly on the door. A muffled, "Come in," follows, so I push the door open.

What greets me stops me in my tracks. Principal Simmons is seated at her desk, looking at me with an expression I can only describe as... pity? Sympathy? I don't like it. Across from her sit four tall, intimidating figures, their presence almost swallowing the room.

I hesitate, my hand still on the door. "Uh... you called for me?" My voice comes out awkward, unsure.

"Yes, Aurora, come in," Principal Simmons says gently, motioning for me to sit down. Her tone is making me even more nervous. Slowly, I close the door behind me and step forward, sitting in the chair farthest from the strangers.

Principal Simmons clears her throat, clasping her hands together on the desk. "Aurora, I called you out of class because I have some news. It's both bad and... potentially good, depending on how you take it."

My stomach drops. "What kind of news?"

"These individuals here," she gestures to the four figures, "are your biological family. After extensive investigation, with the help of the police and missing persons reports, it was confirmed that you and your sister, Amalia, are their children. They've been searching for you for years and-"

"Wait. What?" I blurt out, cutting her off. "Biological family? Missing persons reports? What are you even talking about?"

Principal Simmons holds up a hand, trying to calm me. "I know this is a lot to process. They submitted DNA to the international database, and it matched with records connected to you and Amalia. Your case was part of a larger missing persons investigation, and now it's been resolved."

My head is spinning, and I can barely focus on what she's saying. "You're telling me they're my real family? How do you know they're not lying? How do you even know it's true?" My voice rises, teetering on the edge of panic.

"They've provided extensive proof," Principal Simmons says, her voice still soft. "The police have been involved every step of the way."

I shake my head, trying to make sense of it all. "Wait, wait. You said we-me and Amalia. But we already... we already have guardians."

Not really but you know

At that, Principal Simmons' face falls. Her pitying look deepens, and I suddenly know I'm not going to like what she's about to say.

"That's the bad news," she says quietly. "Your adoptive parents were involved in a car accident early this morning. I'm so sorry, Aurora, but they didn't survive."

Her words hit me like a freight train. I blink, stunned, unable to form a coherent thought. My adoptive parents... dead? Just like that?

I'm not even sure how to feel. I never knew them but from what I've seen they are really good people. I heard they run a foster home in Russia but I'm not sure.

I barely register Principal Simmons' next words. "Your biological family has taken legal steps to adopt both you and Amalia. Effective immediately."

I stand abruptly, my chair screeching against the floor. "I need to go," I say, my voice shaking. I don't even give her a chance to respond before I turn and bolt out of the office, ignoring the concerned calls of the strangers who are apparently my family.

I make it to the parking lot and get into the car Amalia got me, my hands trembling as I grip the steering wheel. I don't even know where I'm going-I just know I need answers.

Amalia. She knew something. She had to have known something.

Slamming my foot on the gas, I peel out of the parking lot, heading straight for the house. One thing is clear: my sister has some serious explaining to do.

The phone pressed to my ear buzzed with the muffled voice of a contact, someone high up in a shady organization who owed me favors

The phone pressed to my ear buzzed with the muffled voice of a contact, someone high up in a shady organization who owed me favors. My mind was focused on the status of two of my operatives. I'd sent them on a dangerous mission, and I needed to know if they were still alive.

"They're stable," the voice said, distant but reassuring. "But one of them took a hit. Recovery will take time."

I sighed in relief, leaning against the edge of my desk. "Good. Keep them under watch, and report back if there's any change."

Just as I was about to end the call, I heard it.

"AMALIA!"

Aurora's voice cut through the air, sharp and furious. I frowned. It wasn't unusual for her to shout-she seemed to thrive on being loud and obnoxious whenever she could-but there was an edge to her tone that made me pause.

"I'll call you back," I muttered into the phone before hanging up and heading downstairs.

The second my feet hit the bottom step, Aurora was there, standing in the living room like a storm waiting to unleash.

"Are you serious right now?!" she shouted, throwing her hands up. "How long were you planning to hide it, huh? Were you ever going to tell me?!"

My eyebrows shot up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Is she on drugs?

"Don't play dumb with me, Amalia!" she snapped, her face flushed with anger. "Our real family! The people we were stolen from! You knew, didn't you? You knew they were out there, and you didn't say a damn thing!"

I stared at her, utterly lost. My real family? What was she even-

Knock knock.

The sound came from the front door, cutting through the tension like a blade. Both of us froze, our argument momentarily suspended.

I turned to the door, my brow furrowing. My hand instinctively went to the concealed blade I kept strapped to my side. I glanced back at Aurora, who looked just as bewildered as I felt, before walking over and opening the door.

Standing there were two men. One was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark, graying hair and piercing eyes that seemed to take in everything about me in a single glance. The other was younger, wiry but still intimidating, standing just behind the first man.

The older man's gaze lingered on me for a moment before he spoke.

"Is this a bad time?"

I blinked, my grip tightening on the doorframe. "Who are you?" I asked, my voice icy.

Behind me, Aurora's footsteps drew closer. I could feel her tension radiating from across the room.

The man's expression softened slightly, though it didn't make him any less imposing.

"I'm someone who's been looking for you for a very long time," he said, his tone calm but weighted with meaning. "You and your sister."

I looked at the man, my jaw clenching. "You've got five seconds to explain before I slam this door in your face."

The younger man behind him smirked slightly but said nothing. The older man met my gaze evenly, unflinching.

"I'm your father, Amalia," he said simply. "And we have a lot to talk about."