The fluorescent lights of the police station buzzed faintly overhead, casting a pale, sterile glow on the room. Lily sat hunched on a wooden bench, her knees tucked up, fingers twisting the hem of her sweater.
She hated the silence here. It wasn’t peaceful—it was heavy. Every so often, an officer would pass by, glancing at her like she was glass that might crack at the slightest touch.
Fragile.
She hated that word. But deep down, she knew it fit.
Her eyes burned, not from crying—she’d done enough of that last night—but from exhaustion. Her mother was gone. One moment, she was just a distant figure in Lily’s life; the next, she was a body in a morgue. Lily didn’t know what she was supposed to feel. Sad? Relieved? Lost? She felt all of it and nothing at the same time.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. Her stomach tightened as she looked up.
Two men walked in.
They didn’t just enter—they owned the space. Both tall, broad, and carrying an aura so sharp it made the air feel thinner.
Alex Morreti. Ethan Morreti.
Her brothers.
Alex led the way, towering at 6'7, his black suit stretching over his broad shoulders, his sharp jawline and cold eyes giving him the presence of a man carved from stone. Ethan followed, only slightly shorter at 6'5, his features softer but still just as commanding. Both radiated quiet, lethal authority.
Lily froze. Even sitting, she felt impossibly small—5'2 against their towering frames, like a mouse caught between wolves.
Alex’s gaze locked on her, steady and unreadable. He didn’t blink, didn’t smile, didn’t soften. Ethan’s eyes held the same weight, but there was a flicker of concern buried in them.
“Lily,” Alex said, his deep voice rolling through the room like distant thunder.
“…Alex.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
Ethan stepped closer, crouching slightly to meet her eye level. “We’re here to take you home.”
Home. The word felt foreign in her mouth.
She stood—too quickly. Her foot caught on the bench leg, sending her stumbling forward.
Ethan’s hand shot out, steadying her before she could hit the floor. “Careful,” he murmured, his tone softer than she expected.
Alex’s brow arched almost imperceptibly. “Still as graceful as ever,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Ethan to hear.
Ethan smirked faintly. “She gets that from you.”
Her cheeks burned, more from frustration than embarrassment. She hated looking weak in front of them.
They led her outside to a sleek black car. Alex opened the door without a word, waiting until she slid in before following. Ethan took the seat beside her.
The ride was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space. Lily kept her gaze fixed on the window, but she could feel their eyes on her now and then, silent conversations passing between them.
When the gates opened, the Morreti mansion came into view—an enormous fortress of stone and iron, looming under the cloudy sky.
Inside, the air was colder, heavier. At the top of the sweeping staircase stood three more men.
Xavier, 6'3, stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. His gaze lingered on her a moment too long, like he wasn’t interested—but his eyes tracked her every movement.
Beside him, Luca leaned against the railing, his jaw tight. Even without speaking, his short fuse was obvious in the way his grip whitened on the banister. Xander stood next to them, faint smirk on his lips, reading the room like he was amused by a private joke.
Lily’s chest tightened. Every pair of eyes on her felt like a weight pressing down.
Alex broke the silence. “Welcome home.”
“This isn’t home,” she whispered. For her this is felt like cage.
She brushed past them, her small frame swallowed by the vast hallways. Behind her, she didn’t see the way Ethan’s brow furrowed, or how Xavier’s eyes followed her until she disappeared from sight.
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The door to her room creaked open, and Lily stepped inside.
She froze.
The walls were painted in the exact shade of soft pastel blue she had loved as a child—a color she’d once insisted made her feel like she was “breathing the sky.” She hadn’t mentioned it in years. She doubted anyone remembered.
Yet here it was.
A small, unguarded smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it. The furniture was new, elegant, but a stuffed rabbit—worn at the edges—sat on the nightstand. The one she’d thought was long gone.
For a moment, the mansion didn’t feel so cold.
She changed into something comfortable and sat on the bed. It was too soft, too warm, the kind of comfort that lulled her eyelids shut almost immediately. She drifted off for a short nap, her mind tangled between memories and questions.
When she woke, the afternoon light was spilling in through the balcony doors. She decided she might as well look around—get used to the place.
The hallways were enormous, lined with tall windows and old portraits, the kind that made you feel like you were being watched. She wandered slowly, running her fingertips along the carved banisters, trying to map the maze of the house in her mind.
Turning a corner, she collided with something solid.
No—someone solid.
She stumbled back, the air knocked out of her lungs. It felt like she’d run into a brick wall. Before gravity could finish the job, a hand shot out, gripping her wrist firmly and yanking her upright.
“Whoa—” she gasped.
Her wide eyes met the cool, sharp gaze of Luca. He was taller up close, shadows cutting across his face from the afternoon light.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice rough but not unkind. But she not noticed that his voice has some concern.
She nodded quickly. “Y-Yeah, I just—”
“Always clumsy,” he muttered, letting go of her wrist. His lips curled into the faintest smirk. “You haven’t changed at all.”
Her mouth opened in protest, but no words came out.
He tilted his head, scanning her from head to toe as if confirming his point. “Careful, Lily. Not everyone here is going to catch you when you fall.”
Then she turned and go towards her room in frustrated and lightly embarassment. Not sparing glance at him.
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Words:1064
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