After I ended the call, I stood still for a moment, forcing my breathing to slow while my heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to escape.

I wasn’t going to cry.

Not again.

I’d spent eleven years shedding tears over that house, those boys, and the man who treated me like a spare part. I’d cried enough to last a lifetime. This time, I swore I’d straighten my spine, lift my chin, and find Magnus—face-to-face—and tell him I was done.

Music drifted down the corridor, loud and cruelly cheerful. The twins’ birthday banquet had already begun. The entire estate sounded like it was celebrating something worth cheering for.

I opened the wardrobe and grabbed the first dress I saw. Soft pink. Simple. Too gentle for a place built on violence and power. I slipped it on, smoothed the fabric with shaking hands, and stepped out.

The moment I entered the grand hall, something inside me cracked.

Under the crystal chandeliers—right in the heart of the Caldwin estate where every deal, threat, and execution order had been spoken—Magnus was on one knee.

Not for me.

Never for me.

In his hand was a diamond ring that could buy half the city. The kind a Don gave when he wanted the world to know who stood beside him.

And standing in front of him was Elara.

The nanny.

The woman my sons clung to like she was their savior.

Magnus looked up at her like she was precious.

“Will you take my name,” he asked softly, “and become my wife?”

Elara gasped, hand flying to her mouth. She laughed through tears, like this was a fairytale instead of a mafia engagement staged before half the underworld.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I will.”

The hall erupted. Men clapped. Women squealed. Glasses were raised. Someone whistled. Someone began chanting Magnus’ name like he’d just won a war.

And I stood there, invisible. A ghost no one bothered to acknowledge.

Then the twins came running.

Ian and Vale crashed into Elara, wrapping their arms around her waist.

“Finally!” Ian shouted. “Elara’s gonna be our real mom now!”

Vale didn’t hesitate. He pointed straight at me.

“Thank God it’s not her. Anything’s better than that snake, Lyra.”

A laugh slipped out of me—soft, broken. Not because it was funny. Because if I didn’t laugh, I’d scream.

I started clapping. Slow. Deliberate. The sound cut through the noise, turning heads.

“Congratulations,” I said calmly.

Magnus stiffened when he saw me. His eyes widened.

“Lyra… I—”

“Don’t,” I cut in. “I’m not here to ruin your celebration. I was passing through. Since you’re all gathered, I’ll make it quick.”

I stepped forward.

“I’m leaving.”

Silence fell over the hall.

Then Magnus’ face hardened.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped.

Right on cue, Elara began to cry.

“Oh my God,” she sobbed. “Lyra, I’m so sorry. Please don’t go because of me. I never wanted this to hurt you.”

I stared at her. She couldn’t have sounded more fake if she tried.

Magnus grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away. I shoved him back hard enough that he stumbled.

“Don’t put your filthy hands on me,” I hissed.

His jaw clenched. “We’re talking somewhere private.”

Before he could move, Ian and Vale rushed me. Small fists. Hard hits. Ten-year-old rage sharpened into weapons.

“You evil woman!” Ian screamed, punching my side. “You made our mom cry!”

Vale hit me too—right where my arm still burned from earlier.

Elara dabbed at her tears, pretending to be weak.

“Stop, boys. I’m fine.”

But she didn’t stop them.

She never did.

Then Vale suddenly bolted from the hall. I barely had time to register it before he returned, holding a small jar.

The second I saw it, my blood turned to ice.

“No!” I screamed, lunging forward.

Vale laughed—and dropped it.

The jar shattered against the marble floor with a crack like a gunshot. Ash scattered across the tiles. Soft. Grey. Sacred.

My mother.

Gone. Spilled under strangers’ feet like dirt.

For a second, my mind refused to process it. Then my world tilted.

“What did you do?!” I screamed.

Ian stepped closer, eyes cold. “If you ever hurt our new mom again, you’ll regret it.”

Whispers spread through the crowd.

“That’s the Don’s former woman.”

“The one who refused to leave.”

“So shameless.”

“She’s ruining the engagement.”

“And Elara’s still defending her… what a saint.”

“What a wicked woman.”

My hands clenched until my nails bit into my skin.

“Say whatever you want!” I shouted. “Those kids—”

“That’s enough!” Magnus roared.

I saw his hand lift. I refused to let it land.

I caught his wrist and slapped him—once, then again. The sound cracked through the hall.

“Go to hell, Magnus.”

I turned and walked out.

I didn’t run. Tears blurred my vision, but I kept moving because I knew the second I stopped, I’d collapse.

When I reached my room, the emptiness hit me like a fist.

Ten years. Ten years of waiting for those boys to soften. Ten years of hoping they’d love me.

I dragged out my suitcase and began packing.

The door slammed open. Magnus stormed in.

“What madness has possessed you?”

I kept packing.

He grabbed the suitcase and flung it across the room. Clothes scattered everywhere.

“Now you’re listening.”

“Keep it,” I said bitterly. “Everything here is poisoned.”

“Enough!” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me.

“Touch me again and I’ll break your fingers.”

He froze, staring at me. “What happened to you?”

“You liked me better silent,” I said. “Now that I’m done swallowing it, I’m the problem?”

“Calm down,” he said. “Let me explain.”

“Go on.”

“Elara is sick,” he said. “Cancer. She doesn’t have long. The boys begged me to make her their mother so she can pass peacefully.”

I laughed—cold and sharp.

“Two years, right? And after that you’ll finally marry me?”

“Yes,” he said quickly.

“So what do you want from me?”

He smiled, kissing my cheek. “Stay. Take care of the twins while I take Elara overseas for treatment.”

I nodded. I smiled.

“Alright.”

Relief washed over his face as he left.

The moment the door closed, my smile vanished.

Behind me, someone clapped.

Slow. Mocking.

Elara leaned against the doorway.

“You really think you’re stupid, Lyra,” she said sweetly. “Otherwise, you’d already know.”

She stepped closer, placing a hand on her stomach.

“I’ve been sleeping with Magnus for three years,” she whispered.

“And I’m pregnant with his baby.”

Lyra’s POV

I spun around to face Elara.

She stood in my doorway like she owned the room—chin lifted, lips curled in that smug little smile that made my skin crawl.

“What do you want?” I snarled.

Her little pregnancy reveal didn’t shock me. Not anymore. After eleven years of watching Magnus betray me in new ways, I’d learned one rule: never assume you’ve seen the worst of him.

Or anyone tied to him.

Elara tilted her head, all fake sweetness. “I came to apologize.”

I let out a harsh laugh. “Save it. Your apology means nothing to me.”

Her eyes narrowed for a second, then she sighed dramatically. “But I was thinking…” she murmured. “What if people finally heard the truth? That you’ve been bullying me all this time?”

I snorted. “I don’t care enough about you to bully you. And I’m not interested in your little victim act.”

I bent down, grabbed my suitcase, and went back to packing. Shirts. Dresses. Anything I could shove inside fast.

But Elara wasn’t finished.

She glanced at my bedside table, then—without warning—picked up the lamp and slammed it onto the floor.

The glass shattered.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped, every instinct in me flaring.

Elara’s grin widened. “Just watch.”

Then she dropped down like a puppet with its strings cut and pressed both hands into the broken shards.

Blood welled instantly.

My stomach turned. “Are you insane?”

Elara threw her head back and screamed, loud enough for the entire floor to hear.

“I’m sorry, Lyra!” she sobbed. “It’s my fault, I swear! Hurt me if you have to, but please—please don’t leave the children!”

I stared at her, stunned.

“What is wrong with you?” I hissed.

The door flew open so hard it nearly hit the wall.

Magnus stormed in, the twins right behind him. His eyes went sharp and dangerous the moment he saw Elara on the floor, bleeding like a martyr.

His gaze snapped to me.

“How could you do this?” he growled. “She’s sick, Lyra. Have you lost every shred of decency?”

“I didn’t touch her,” I said, my voice steady.

Elara sobbed harder. “Magnus, don’t yell at her… it’s not her fault…”

The twins shoved forward, faces twisted with hate.

“How dare you hurt our new mommy!” Ian shouted.

Vale bared his teeth. “Haven’t we punished you enough? Why are you still here?”

Their words didn’t even sting anymore. They’d said worse. Done worse.

I didn’t look at any of them. I kept packing.

“I’m leaving,” I said coolly. “That’s what you all want, right?”

Magnus lunged before I could take another step. His hand clamped around my arm, iron-strong, and he dragged me out into the hall.

Then he shoved me into the cramped storage closet across from my room.

The door slammed.

“Stay in there until you learn your lesson!” he snarled.

“Magnus!” I screamed, slamming my fists against the door. “Let me out!”

The lock clicked.

And then his footsteps disappeared.

My breath caught in my throat.

He knew.

He knew I couldn’t stand tight spaces. He knew it made my skin crawl, made my lungs seize, made my mind spiral.

And he still did it.

Like I was an animal he could cage.

Tears slid down my cheeks before I could stop them. I wiped them away viciously.

No.

Crying wouldn’t help. None of them deserved my tears. None of them deserved my love.

I pressed my back to the wall and forced my heartbeat to slow.

The closet was small. Too small. Boxes stacked high. Old coats. Dust thick enough to taste. There was nothing inside that could help me pry the lock or force the door.

Hours crawled by.

Eventually, the house grew quieter. The music faded. Evening settled in.

Then a soft knock came from the other side of the door.

Hope surged through me so fast it hurt.

I scrambled up, gripping the handle. “Hello? Someone’s there—please! Open the door!”

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then Elara’s voice slid through the crack like poison.

“Oh, Lyra,” she cooed. “Locked up exactly where you belong.”

I shut my eyes, swallowing the rage burning my throat. “What do you want? Are you done with your performance?”

A giggle. Light. Cruel. “Not even close. I didn’t know Magnus loved me so much he’d lock you away… even though he knows it’s your biggest fear.”

My jaw clenched. I refused to give her the satisfaction of hearing me panic.

“If you have nothing real to say, leave,” I snapped.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she purred. “I’m just getting started. But for now… I’ll let you rot in there.”

Her heels clicked away, slow and satisfied.

I let out a shaky breath.

Darkness crept deeper into the closet. I reached up, fingers brushing my hair. The small pin was still there, holding it in place.

A hairpin.

“Better than nothing,” I muttered.

I dropped to my knees and started working it into the lock. My hands shook too badly at first, but I forced them steady.

Seconds passed.

Minutes.

Then—

Voices.

Outside.

Two familiar voices, low and gleeful.

“Let’s teach her a real lesson,” Ian hissed.

Vale snickered. “Yes. Let’s.”

My blood ran cold.

Before I could move, something scraped against the tiny back window of the closet.

Then the nightmare began.

A buzzing roar filled the air.

Bees.

A hive—shoved through the opening.

And with it came crawling shapes that made my skin crawl: spiders spilling across the floor, over the boxes, over my shoes.

I screamed.

Stings hit my arms, my neck, my cheek. Bites sank into my ankles.

Pain lit up everywhere at once.

“Stop!” I sobbed, pounding the door with both fists. “Somebody! Help me!”

No one came.

No footsteps.

No voices.

Only the twins’ laughter outside, sharp and delighted.

“Next time don’t mess with us!” Vale taunted.

My right eye started swelling shut, heat throbbing under the skin. I couldn’t breathe properly. I couldn’t see properly.

But I didn’t stop.

I forced my hands back to the lock, fingers moving faster, desperate.

The stings kept coming.

My skin burned.

My lungs felt tight.

Finally—

The latch shifted.

The door gave.

I shoved it open and stumbled out, gasping, half-blind, screaming as I ran.

I bolted into the courtyard, air cold against my skin.

The twins were waiting.

They stood under the courtyard lights like two small demons, eyes hard, faces blank with hate.

“You really don’t learn,” Vale snarled, his hands curled into fists.

Ian stepped forward. “You should never come back.”

Then they shoved me.

Hard.

I stumbled backward and fell into the pool.

The water swallowed me instantly, icy and deep.

Panic slammed into my chest.

“I can’t swim!” I choked, thrashing. “Stop! Please!”

But they didn’t stop.

They stood at the edge, watching.

Then I saw Ian reach into a bag.

My heart froze.

A pistol.

Vale pulled one out too.

My blood turned to ice all over again.

“Where did you get—” I started, voice shaking.

Ian’s face twisted with disgust. “You’re pathetic. You think running away will make us want you? You’re vile.”

Vale’s eyes were wild. “You should die here. It’s the only way to apologize to our real mother.”

Together, perfectly in sync, they raised their guns.

Aimed straight at my chest.

And fired.

The shots ripped through the night—bullets slicing the air, racing toward my heart.