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“I’m sorry, Papa.” I whisper softly, my eyes locked on the two men who have captured my heart along with my entire being. “I’m sorry, but I’m not the girl I was before.”
My heart isn’t even mine to give any more.
It’s already been taken by them.
I can feel my brother’s fury before I even hear his voice.
“No!” Dario shouts, his voice a raw scream of rage. “They need to pay for what they’ve done to you, Chiara, you don’t know what you’re saying right now!”
I flinch, his words striking me harder than I expected.
The force of his anger cuts deep, but I can’t allow anything to happen to them; to Nikolai, and to Mikhail.
I need my brother to understand.
“No, Dario.” I say more clearly this time, my shoulders pushed back as I meet my brother’s eyes. “Nothing needs tohappen.” My voice cracks slightly as I hold onto Papa tighter. “I’mhappywith them.”
The words float around in the air, and I watch his face fall.
It’s like I’ve slapped him, and I feel the sting of it in my own chest.
It hurts me to know that I’ve hurt him, but I need him to understand.
I need him to see the bigger picture, to see that revenge won’t fix anything.
I need him to see that hurting them will only hurt me.
Dario stands frozen in his space, his eyes wide with disbelief, and I feel my heart break for him in that moment.
Still, I push forward, knowing that I can’t stop now.
I tear my eyes away to glance over at Papa, then at Alessandro, at Isaak, and finally, at the twins.
My gaze lingers on every single one of them, searching for something—anything—that will help me understand what’s happening.
When I find absolutely nothing, I know that I need to speak again.
“Please tell me the truth.” I plead with them all. Nobody makes a move to speak, but from the looks on their faces, I know there’s something deeper happening here. “You’ve all been arguing relentlessly, and yes, I'll admit that I was taken, but I don’t understand why it matters so much. You’ve all been focused on arguing about everything elsebutthat, so what is it that you’re supposedly so angry about?”
I look at Nikolai, at Mikhail, at Isaak and Alessandro, at my brother, and finally, at Papa.
I need somebody to tell me.
I need to understand what’s happening, because I know this—me being taken—isn't the main focus any more.
Something else is, and I need to know what.
Papa’s body becomes tense against mine, the muscles in his arm hardening, his grip around mine firm, but also protective.
I look up, meeting his eyes, sensing the shift in his demeanour before I even see it. His jaw clenches, the veins in his neck protruding slightly as his anger builds. His eyes flicker over to Nikolai and Mikhail, then to Isaak, and I see the fury in them.
“Do you want to tell her, or should I?” Papa’s voice is low and guttural, and barely restrained. “How should we begin spilling secrets from our history, Isaak?!”
The room becomes deathly silent.
I didn’t expect this.
Papa’s words repeat in my head.