Page 14

Roman escorts me from the suffocating darkness of the room, his hand firmly gripping my arm as he leads me down the hall. The change in environment is stark, the living room bathed in muted sunlight spilling through drawn curtains. My mind races, a thousand scenarios flashing before me. Are they taking me away? Ending this once and for all? I can’t decide which option frightens me more.

I glance at Roman, his face unreadable as ever. His silence only amplifies the dread curling in my chest. My breath hitches when the front door opens, the heavy sound of boots signaling Serge’s arrival. He steps into the room, his presence commanding and cold as usual.

Then I see them.

Leo and Alyssa, standing just behind him. My heart stops, a mixture of relief and terror rushing through me like a tidal wave. They’re here, they’re safe. Before I can fully process it, Leo’s eyes light up, and both children dart toward me.

“Mommy!”

I drop to my knees, pulling them into my arms, holding them so tightly I can feel their little hearts beating against mine. Tears burn in my eyes as I bury my face in their soft hair, whispering their names over and over. “Oh, my babies. My babies.”

Their chatter is a blur of words and laughter as they cling to me. I smooth back Alyssa’s blonde curls, kissing the top of her head, before cupping Leo’s face, checking for any signs of harm. They’re unharmed, thank God.

Then Leo looks at me with those wide blue eyes—the ones that mirror Serge’s so perfectly—and says something that freezes the breath in my lungs.

“Mommy, why didn’t you ever introduce us to our dad?”

I blink, staring at him, my brain struggling to catch up. “What?”

Leo grins, nodding enthusiastically toward Serge, who stands behind them, his hands tucked into his pockets. Alyssa pipes up, her voice cheerful and sweet. “I wasn’t sure at first, but he’s so nice, Mommy! He drove us here and everything.”

My gaze snaps to Serge, confusion and anger bubbling to the surface. His expression is infuriatingly calm, but there’s something else in his eyes. Something softer, more human, as he watches the twins. I don’t know whether to scream at him or collapse into tears.

“Serge,” I manage, my voice trembling with barely contained fury. “What is this? What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over the three of us. Leo looks up at him with pure admiration, as though Serge is some kind of hero, while Alyssa clings to my side, smiling shyly.

“They’re mine,” Serge says finally, his voice low and resolute. “You can’t deny it. Look at them.”

I shake my head, holding my children closer. “You had no right to—”

“No right?” His tone sharpens, his eyes narrowing. “You kept them from me. My own blood. You think you’re the victim here, Chiara?”

“They’re children,” I snap, my voice cracking. “They don’t deserve this life. Your life.”

“Yet,” he says, crouching slightly to meet my gaze, “they deserve to know who they are. Where they come from.”

His words land with the weight of a gavel, but before I can respond, Alyssa tugs on my sleeve. “Mommy, can we stay with him? He’s really nice. He let us listen to music in the car.”

My chest tightens painfully. She’s too young to understand the implications, the danger. To her, Serge is just a tall, strong man who let her pick the songs on the radio. She doesn’t know the darkness that surrounds him, the blood on his hands.

I glance at Leo, who’s watching Serge with the same awe. He doesn’t speak, but his silence is louder than any words.

Serge straightens, towering over us once more. “We’ll talk later, Chiara. For now, let them enjoy this moment.”

His calmness only infuriates me further. My children are clinging to me, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in my mind, and Serge acts like he holds all the cards. Maybe he does.

“Come on, kids,” I say, my voice softer now as I pull them to their feet. “Let’s sit down for a bit.”

They nod, eager and trusting, as I lead them to the couch. Serge watches, his gaze unreadable, before turning to Roman. A brief, silent exchange passes between them before Serge steps out of the room, leaving me with my children and a thousand unanswered questions.

Serge leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, his sharp blue eyes softening slightly as they rest on Alyssa. She’s chattering happily, oblivious to the tension in the room. When she glances up at him with her bright, trusting smile, something shifts in his expression. It’s not the usual smirk or cold amusement. It’s… genuine. A real, unguarded smile.

It catches me off guard, and for a fleeting moment, I wonder if he’s capable of something other than cruelty and calculated control. Then he straightens, his focus flicking between the twins before settling on me.

“Now that I’ve found you,” he says, his voice calm but carrying an unmissable edge of authority, “we can live as one happy family.”

His words are like a slap, and I can’t stop the dry laugh that escapes me. “Happy?” I scoff, standing from the couch, shielding the twins instinctively. “You think this is going to be happy? That’s hilarious, Serge. Absolutely hilarious.”

Alyssa looks up at me, confused by the sharpness in my tone. “Mommy?”

I take a steadying breath, crouching down to meet her gaze. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Why don’t you and Leo go play in the other room for a bit? I need to talk to—” My words falter, the term your father sticking in my throat. “—Serge.”

Alyssa hesitates, but Leo tugs on her hand, leading her toward the adjacent room. “Come on, Aly,” he says, his tone bright but tentative. “Let’s see what’s in there.”

Once the door closes behind them, the room falls into a tense silence. Serge doesn’t move, his gaze locked on mine, unreadable as ever.

“Do you honestly think,” I say, my voice low and trembling with anger, “that you can walk in here, uproot our lives, and call it a happy family? You’re delusional.”

“I think,” he replies, his tone calm and infuriatingly even, “that they deserve to know their father. To live with the security and privilege they’re entitled to.”

“Security?” I laugh again, the sound bitter. “You think dragging them into your world of crime and bloodshed is secure? You’re out of your mind.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t lash out like I expect. Instead, he steps closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over me. “What’s out of my mind is the fact that you kept them from me. My own children. You don’t get to lecture me about what’s right or wrong when you stole four years of their lives from me.”

“I stole their lives?” I step forward, meeting his glare with one of my own. “I protected them. From you. From your family. From everything you represent.”

“Except,” he says, his voice dropping dangerously low, “here they are. Right where they belong. With me.”

His calm, unflinching confidence is maddening. “You don’t know the first thing about what they need. You can’t just barge into their lives and expect—”

“I can,” he interrupts, his voice sharp. “I will. You had your time to run, Chiara. It’s over.”

My fists clench at my sides, the frustration boiling over. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re stubborn,” he counters, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Maybe that’s why this works.”

“Works?” I echo, incredulous. “This doesn’t work. This is a disaster.”

“Disaster or not,” he says, his tone softening slightly, “it’s reality now. I’m here. They’re mine, and you’re not taking them anywhere.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. The tension is palpable, a mix of anger, fear, and something else entirely—something I refuse to name. Finally, I exhale, forcing myself to stay calm.

“What do you want from me, Serge?” I ask quietly. “What’s your endgame here?”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as they search mine. “What I want,” he says, his voice steady, “is simple. I want my children in my life. I want them to have the best of everything. Whether you like it or not, that includes me.”

“And me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk returns, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze. “You, Chiara, are a bonus.”

I shake my head, biting back the retort on the tip of my tongue. Before I can say more, the door to the other room creaks open, and Alyssa peeks out, clutching a stuffed animal to her chest.

“Mommy?” she says hesitantly. “Are you mad?”

The innocence in her voice cuts through the tension like a blade. I force a smile, crouching down to her level. “No, sweetheart. I’m not mad.”

“Promise?” she asks, her big blue eyes searching mine.

“Promise,” I say, reaching out to smooth her curls.

Serge watches the exchange silently, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I wonder if he’s capable of understanding the depth of what he’s done—of the chaos he’s brought into our lives.

“Go back inside, Aly,” I say gently. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

She nods, disappearing back into the room. As the door clicks shut, I turn to Serge, my resolve hardening. “If you want to play house, fine, but don’t think for a second that I’ll make this easy for you.”

His smirk widens, and for the first time, I see a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

The moment Serge leaves, the tension in the room lingers like a storm that hasn’t quite passed. His footsteps fade down the hall, but I know better than to think I’m free. There’s no freedom here—just a gilded cage with guards at every corner. I glance toward the door and let out a slow breath, my shoulders sagging as the reality of my situation settles over me like a heavy blanket.

With measured steps, I walk to the door, cracking it open just enough to peek out. Sure enough, a hulking figure stands stationed by the wall across the hallway. One of Serge’s men, no doubt, with a cold stare that makes it clear he’s not there to chat. I close the door quietly, my stomach twisting as I turn back to the small living room where my kids wait.

“Mommy?” Alyssa’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. She’s sitting on the plush couch, her stuffed bunny clutched tightly to her chest. Her wide blue eyes—Serge’s eyes—search mine, filled with curiosity and the faintest hint of worry.

“Hi, baby,” I say softly, forcing a smile as I crouch down to her level. “How are you doing?”

She shrugs, her curls bouncing. “Okay, I guess. Is that man our daddy?”

The question hits me like a punch to the gut. I glance at Leo, who’s busy inspecting a toy car he found on the floor, seemingly uninterested in the conversation. “He says he is,” Alyssa adds, her voice quiet.

I sit down next to her, pulling her into my lap. “He is,” I admit, my voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside me. “He’s your daddy. Everything’s a little… complicated right now.”

“Why?” she asks, tilting her head. “Is he mad at you?”

I laugh lightly, though there’s no humor in it. “You could say that.”

Leo finally looks up, his little face serious. “He seems nice. He said he’d take us to a park someday. Will he, Mommy?”

I swallow hard, smoothing Alyssa’s curls. “We’ll see,” I say vaguely, not knowing how to explain that Serge doesn’t exactly do normal family outings. The thought of him taking them to a park—a place filled with laughing children and unsuspecting parents—feels absurd. Yet, the way they’ve already warmed to him sends a chill down my spine.

“Does he live with us now?” Alyssa asks, her voice small.

“No, sweetheart. He doesn’t live here. He’s just visiting… for now,” I lie and hold her close, trying to reassure myself as much as her. “Don’t worry. Mommy’s here. Always.”

The door opens slightly, and one of the guards steps in, his gaze cold and detached. “Dinner will be brought up soon,” he says curtly before stepping out and closing the door behind him.

The intrusion grates at me, a harsh reminder that nothing about this is normal. I press a kiss to Alyssa’s forehead and then to Leo’s, fighting the growing knot of fear in my chest. My children don’t deserve this—they don’t deserve him.

Alyssa fidgets with her bunny’s ears. “Mommy, can we play a game?”

“Of course,” I say, trying to sound cheerful. “What do you want to play?”

“Hide and seek!” she exclaims, her smile lighting up her face.

I hesitate, glancing at the door. “Okay, but just in here, alright? No running out into the hall.”

“Okay!” she chirps, hopping off my lap. Leo joins her, his toy car forgotten as they begin counting to ten. I hide behind the couch, trying to lose myself in their laughter, even as my mind races.

What’s Serge doing now? Plotting his next move? Deciding how to further entangle us in his web? The thought makes me sick, but I can’t let it show. Not now. Not in front of them.

“Found you!” Alyssa’s giggle cuts through my thoughts as she peeks around the couch, her smile wide and triumphant.

“You’re too good at this,” I say, pulling her into a hug.

Leo tugs on my sleeve. “Can we play again?”

“Of course,” I reply, my heart aching as I watch their innocence. For now, this is enough. For now, I can shield them from the storm outside the door.

As they count again, I glance toward the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Time feels like it’s slipping away, every moment dragging us closer to whatever Serge has planned. My resolve hardens. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them, even if it means facing Serge head-on. He may think he’s won, but this game isn’t over yet.