{I am Amara, though the name feels foreign now. For years, I’ve lived in the shadows, far away from the family that once meant everything to me.}

I stood at the grand entrance of the mansion, feeling like a stranger. The tall, iron gates loomed ahead, daring me to step inside. I hadn’t been here in years—since I was a child. My heart pounded in my chest as I remembered the day they took me away from my family, the day everything fell apart.

I tightened my grip on the invitation I had received weeks ago. The words still haunted me: "You’re invited to the family reunion, Amara. It's time you knew the truth."

I hadn’t wanted to come. But something deep inside me urged me to. I needed answers—answers about my past, about Damien. The brother I lost, the one I’d only heard about in rumors.

I took a deep breath and pushed the gates open, walking toward the front door. The mansion towered over me, an intimidating reminder of everything I had never been a part of. I remembered the stories—the lies that kept us apart. But there was no turning back now.

The door swung open, and a butler greeted me before leading me through the dimly lit halls, decorated with paintings and statues that seemed as cold as the marble floors beneath my feet. I could sense it—an underlying tension in the air. The deeper I went, the more it felt like a place built on secrets.

And then I saw him.

Damien.

He stood in the middle of a spacious room, his back to me, staring out the window as if he had known I was coming. He didn’t turn, but his voice cut through the silence.

Damien: “Amara.”

My breath hitched at the sound of his name. It had been years since I had last seen him—too many years. He was taller now, broad and commanding, dressed in a dark suit that looked too expensive for anyone's good. His presence filled the room, suffocating me in a way I hadn’t expected.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My heart raced, and my mind spun as I tried to make sense of the man standing before me. He was nothing like the little boy I remembered. He was a stranger.

Finally, he turned to face me, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. There was no trace of warmth in his gaze—only something darker, colder.

Damien: “You shouldn’t have come, Amara.”

I didn’t flinch, though my mind screamed at me to run.

Me: “You’re the one who invited me,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “You said I needed to know the truth.”

Damien’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Damien: “Truth,” he repeated. “You want the truth? I’ll give you one—this was never meant to be a reunion. It’s a warning.”

A chill ran down my spine, but I refused to show fear.

Me: “A warning about what?”

He took a step toward me, closing the distance between us. His scent was intoxicating—like danger and something darker.

Damien: “About what you’re about to uncover.”

My heart raced as he moved closer, his presence overwhelming. Something inside me stirred—a pull I couldn’t explain. I had come for answers, but now all I wanted was to understand him.

Me: “Damien,” I whispered, my voice betraying my vulnerability. “Why did we stop being a family?”

For the briefest moment, there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that could’ve been regret, or maybe just darkness. But it was gone too quickly, replaced by an unreadable mask.

Damien: “Some families are better off broken, Amara.”

As he turned away, I knew that stepping into this world would be more dangerous than I ever imagined. And the truth? It would be far darker than I thought possible.

The mansion’s air grew heavier as Damien disappeared into another room. My feet hesitated, but my curiosity propelled me forward. I couldn’t let him walk away—not when I’d just arrived.

Me: “Damien, wait!”

My voice echoed down the corridor, but he didn’t stop. I followed, my heels clicking against the marble floor, until I found myself in what looked like a study. Bookshelves lined the walls, and the faint scent of leather and whiskey filled the air.

He stood by the desk, pouring himself a drink. His movements were deliberate, each action exuding an unsettling calm.

Damien: “You should leave, Amara. Pretend this reunion never happened.”

His words struck like a slap, but I refused to back down.

Me: “You think you can just dismiss me? After sending that invitation?”

He finally turned to face me, his eyes narrowing.

Damien: “It wasn’t an invitation. It was a test.”

The room seemed to tilt as his words sank in.

Me: “A test for what?”

He took a slow sip of his drink before setting the glass down with a soft clink.

Damien: “To see if you’d have the sense to stay away.”

Anger flared in my chest.

Me: “You don’t get to decide that for me. I came here for answers, Damien. I deserve to know why you pushed me out of your life—why you let them take me.”

For a moment, his mask slipped, revealing something raw beneath. Pain? Regret? I couldn’t tell. But just as quickly, it was gone.

Damien: “You’re asking the wrong questions.”

Me: “Then tell me what the right ones are!”

He stepped closer, his presence suffocating. I could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between us palpable.

Damien: “Why would you trust anything I say, Amara? After everything you’ve heard about me?”

I froze. The rumors. The whispers about Damien’s involvement in things darker than I could imagine. But I refused to believe them.

Me: “Because you’re my brother.”

His expression hardened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes.

Damien: “Don’t mistake blood for loyalty. You don’t know me anymore, Amara. And if you did, you’d run.”

The room felt colder, his words cutting deeper than I wanted to admit.

Me: “Maybe I don’t know you now, but I want to. I deserve to.”

He looked at me for a long moment, as if weighing something in his mind. Finally, he turned away, walking toward the window.

Damien: “This isn’t a family reunion, Amara. It’s a reckoning.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in.

Me: “Then let it be. I’m not leaving, Damien. Not until I get the truth.”

He didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes. This wasn’t going to be easy, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what lay ahead. But one thing was certain—I couldn’t walk away. Not now.

Silence stretched between us like a taut rope, ready to snap at any moment. Damien stood by the window, his figure framed by the pale glow of daylight. His gaze stayed fixed on the world beyond, as if it held the answers to questions I hadn’t asked yet.

But I wasn’t going to wait for him to offer explanations.

Me: “If you think I’m going to leave quietly, you don’t know me at all, Damien.”

He didn’t move, didn’t even glance back. His stillness only fueled my frustration. I took a step forward, my heart hammering in my chest.

Me: “I deserve to know what happened. Why they took me. Why you let them.”

His head tilted slightly, finally acknowledging me.

Damien: “Let them?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Is that what you think happened?”

I blinked, unsure of how to respond.

Me: “You didn’t stop them.”

He turned then, his eyes sharper than broken glass.

Damien: “Because I was a kid, Amara. Just like you.” He took slow, deliberate steps toward me. “They didn’t ask me for permission. They didn’t care what I thought.”

Me: “But you’re not a kid now,” I said, meeting his gaze with a strength I wasn’t sure I had. “You have power. Control. So tell me, what’s stopping you from telling me the truth?”

His jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with something I couldn’t name. Anger? Guilt? Regret?

Damien: “You think you want the truth, but you don’t.”

Me: “Don’t tell me what I want.” My voice shook, but I forced myself to stay firm. “I came back here for a reason, Damien. I’m not leaving without it.”

We stood there, locked in a silent standoff, both of us too stubborn to back down.

Damien: “Fine.” His voice was ice, sharp and unforgiving. “You want the truth? Here it is—our family isn’t what you remember. It never was.”

My heart dropped.

Me: “What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a harsh laugh.

Damien: “You think we were some happy little family torn apart by bad luck? No, Amara. We were built on rot. Lies. Blood.”

The weight of his words crashed down on me like a tidal wave.

Me: “You’re lying.”

Damien: “Am I?” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing. “Tell me, do you even remember Father’s face? Or have you just been clinging to the story you made up in your head?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words got caught in my throat. Flashes of memories flickered—Father’s voice calling my name, his back always turned, the shadowy figure that never quite felt whole.

Me: “That doesn’t mean anything.”

Damien: “It means everything.” He stepped closer, his gaze unrelenting. “You’ve been chasing ghosts, Amara. But ghosts don’t answer questions.”

I shook my head, trying to clear the fog his words left behind.

Me: “If everything was so broken, why send for me? Why bring me back here?”

His eyes darkened, his smile more like a warning than an expression of kindness.

Damien: “Because you’re a part of it now. Whether you like it or not.”

The air felt heavier, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in.

Me: “A part of what?”

His eyes locked onto mine, unwavering.

Damien: “The empire, Amara. Our empire.”

My breath caught in my chest.

Me: “No… I’m not part of that.”

Damien: “You already are,” he said softly, like it was a fact, not a threat. “You never had a choice.”

His words echoed in my mind, each syllable a chain pulling me down. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be part of whatever darkness surrounded him. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t that simple.

I had stepped into this house thinking I was searching for answers. I didn’t realize I’d be dragged into something far more dangerous.

And Damien… Damien wasn’t going to let me go.