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Chapter Text

The King-Sokolov estate was a sprawling masterpiece, with interconnected mansions that reflected both grandeur and familial unity. Each family had their private quarters, yet the shared courtyards, gardens, and a central grand hall fostered a sense of closeness. It was a fortress of power and legacy, where every corner whispered tales of wealth, influence, and unyielding bonds.

Jonathan King’s presence loomed large, even when he wasn’t in the room. The patriarch of the King dynasty exuded authority, his sharp gaze and commanding voice a reminder of the empire he had built. Levi and Astrid King maintained their own strength and influence within the family, their devotion to their daughter glyn and twin sons, Brandon and Landon, evident in every interaction. Glyn stays with her partner killian and rarely visits.

The Sokolov family, equally formidable, resided within the same estate. Rai Sokolov—a fierce mafia leader—and Kyle Hunter, her sharp-eyed sniper husband, carried a reputation that demanded respect and caution. Their children, Nikolai and the twin sisters Mia and Maya, mirrored their parents’ strength. While Nikolai was a volatile punisher with a sharp mind, the Sokolov twins balanced cunning and grace with lethal precision. Maya has moved out.

The daily life within the estate was vibrant yet disciplined. Brandon King often spent his mornings painting in the sunlit studio, while Landon King shadowed him with a sculptor’s eye for detail. Landon’s protectiveness over his twin was unwavering, a trait that often drew amused commentary from Mia Sokolov, who shared a similar dynamic with her sister Maya. Nikolai Sokolov, though deeply in love with Brandon, couldn’t help but tease him for his gentle demeanor.

The afternoon sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the art studio, casting warm hues on the scattered canvases and easels. Brandon stood near his work, brush in hand, a faint smile playing on his lips as he added a soft stroke of color to his painting. Across the room, Landon sat at his easel, pencil in hand, sketching with intense focus.

“How’s it coming along?” Brandon asked, tilting his head to glance at Landon.

Landon smirked, not looking up. “Brilliant, as always. And you?”

Brandon chuckled. “I think it’s finally starting to look like something.”

Their banter was easy, the room filled with the quiet sounds of creativity. It was a rare moment of calm, just the two of them in their element.

Suddenly, a sharp creak echoed through the studio. Both brothers paused, glancing toward the source of the sound. Before either could react, the shelf mounted on the far wall groaned under its weight and gave way. Jars of paint, bottles of solvent, and other supplies came crashing down.

“Bran, watch out!” Landon’s voice cut through the noise as the chaos unfolded.

Brandon instinctively stepped back, but his foot landed on a slick of spilled paint. He slipped, his balance faltering as he reached out to steady himself. His hand missed the edge of the table, and instead, he fell hard against its corner. A sharp gasp escaped his lips as pain flared in his side and arm.

“Brandon!” Landon was at his side in an instant, dropping to his knees. His hands hovered over Brandon, unsure where to touch first. “Are you hurt? Where?”

Brandon winced, cradling his arm. “Just my arm,” he said, his voice strained but steady. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” Landon snapped, his voice thick with worry. He carefully pulled Brandon’s arm into view, revealing a shallow cut oozing blood. “Dammit, Bran.”

Brandon’s gentle smile faltered under Landon’s intense gaze. “It’s just a minor cut, Lan. Really.”

Landon’s hands shook slightly as he pressed a clean rag against the cut. “You’re bleeding,” he muttered, his stormy eyes locking onto Brandon’s. “How is that ‘just a minor cut’?”

The door to the studio burst open as Astrid rushed in, followed closely by Levi. “What happened?” Astrid demanded, her gaze darting between the mess on the floor and her sons.

“Brandon slipped,” Landon said tersely, still holding the rag against Brandon’s arm. “The damn shelf fell.”

Astrid knelt beside Brandon, her hands cupping his face as she inspected him for further injuries. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” she asked softly, her worry evident.

Brandon nodded, though his cheeks flushed under her scrutiny. “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

Levi crossed the room, his sharp eyes taking in the fallen shelf and scattered supplies. “We need to secure these better,” he said, his tone grim. He crouched beside Landon, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You are okay,son.”

Landon barely acknowledged him, his focus solely on Brandon. “I should’ve been paying more attention,” he said, his voice low. “I could’ve stopped it.”

Brandon reached out with his uninjured hand, placing it over Landon’s. “Lan, it’s not your fault,” he said gently. “It was an accident.”

Rai and Kyle arrived shortly after, their expressions as sharp and calculating as ever. Rai’s gaze swept the room, lingering on the broken brackets and spilled paint. Kyle’s lips pressed into a thin line as he exchanged a glance with Rai. Neither said anything, but their silence spoke volumes.

Nikolai was out for some business otherwise he would creat more chaos.

As Astrid helped Brandon to his feet, Landon remained at his side, his arm a steadying presence around his twin’s waist. “You’re not staying in here alone again,” Landon said firmly.

Brandon sighed but didn’t argue. He knew better than to try. For all his brother’s bluster and sharp edges, Landon’s protectiveness was unyielding. And in moments like this, Brandon couldn’t bring himself to push it away.

Chapter Text

Dinner at the King-Sokolov mansion was always an event. The sprawling dining table was a tapestry of vibrant dishes, warm laughter, and teasing banter. Brandon sat beside Nikolai, his hand resting on his arm as the conversation swirled around them. Across the table, Landon was in full form, his sharp wit sparking laughter and eye-rolls in equal measure.

“You know, if sculpting doesn’t work out,” Landon said, gesturing grandly with his fork, “I could always start a career in comedy. Clearly, I’m the star of this family.”

Mia groaned, nudging him with her elbow. “You’re delusional. The only thing you’re good at is inflating your own ego.”

“And yet, here you are,” Landon shot back with a smirk, earning a laugh from Mia.

“She’s got a point, Lan,” Brandon chimed in, his tone light. “Your ego’s big enough to have its own gravitational pull.”

“Et tu, Brutus?” Landon clutched his chest dramatically, drawing a round of chuckles from the table.

Astrid shook her head, her fond smile belying her exasperation. “Honestly, I don’t know how I ended up with children who think the dinner table is a stage.”

“Because life’s too short for boring meals,” Landon quipped, lifting his glass. “A toast! To being the most entertaining family in existence.”

Everyone raised their glasses, though Nikolai’s movements were slower, his expression neutral as his sharp gaze lingered on Landon. Brandon glanced between them, inwardly sighing at the ever-present tension.

“How about we toast to something meaningful for once?” Nikolai said, his voice smooth but laced with sarcasm. “Like not having to endure your endless monologues.”

Landon’s grin turned sharp, his eyes narrowing. “Careful, Sokolov. You might break a sweat trying to keep up with my ‘monologues.’”

“Break a sweat?” Nikolai leaned forward slightly, his golden retriever warmth replaced by the sharp edge of a wolf. “Hardly. But I might break something else.”

Brandon groaned inwardly, reaching out to squeeze Nikolai’s arm. “Can we not do this right now?” he said softly, his tone pleading. “It’s dinner. Let’s try to enjoy it.”

Nikolai relaxed slightly under Brandon’s touch but didn’t look away from Landon. Landon, for his part, leaned back in his chair, smugly satisfied as if he’d won the round.

The tension eased somewhat as the conversation turned to safer topics. Everyone raised their glasses again, the room buzzing with warmth and camaraderie. Brandon took a sip of his wine, his gaze drifting to Landon, who was now gesturing animatedly about some grand plan for a new sculpture.
And then it happened.

The sound was sharp and sudden—glass shattering. Brandon’s head snapped toward Landon, his heart lurching as he saw his twin flinch back, his hand bleeding as shards of glass scattered across the table. Landon’s wine glass had exploded in his hand.

“Lan!” Brandon’s chair scraped back as he bolted to his feet. In seconds, he was at Landon’s side, grabbing a napkin and pressing it to his brother’s hand. “Are you okay?”

“It’s fine,” Landon said, his voice tight but steady. He flexed his fingers experimentally, wincing slightly. “Just a little cut.”

“That’s more than a little,” Astrid said, her tone sharp as she rounded the table. She gently took Landon’s hand, inspecting the wound. “You’re lucky it’s not deeper.”

Levi was already picking up the larger shards of glass, his expression dark. “What the hell happened?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

“It… just broke,” Landon said, frowning. “I didn’t even grip it that hard.”

Brandon’s chest tightened as he looked at the crimson staining the napkin. “Lan, you need to be more careful,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You could’ve really hurt yourself.”

Landon glanced at him, his usual bravado muted. “I’m fine, Bran. Don’t start worrying over nothing.”

Rai and Kyle, who had been observing from the other end of the table, exchanged a glance. Rai’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing, her expression unreadable.

“Alright, show” Astrid said briskly, taking control of the situation. She pulled Landon toward the kitchen. “Let’s clean this properly before it gets infected.”

Landon rolled his eyes but didn’t resist. “I’m not a kid, Mom. I can take care of a scratch.”

“Humor me,” Astrid replied, her tone brooking no argument.

As they disappeared into the kitchen, Brandon stayed rooted to his spot, his hand clenching the edge of the table. He caught Nikolai’s smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” Brandon asked, his tone sharper than intended.

“Nothing,” Nikolai replied, his voice deceptively casual. But the gleam in his eyes was anything but. “Just wondering how many more of these ‘accidents’ your brother will rack up before someone buys him bubble wrap.”

Brandon sighed, shaking his head. As much as he loved Nikolai, his rivalry with Landon was a never-ending source of exasperation.

Still, as he looked at the bloodstains on the napkin Landon had left behind, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling curling in his chest.

Chapter Text

The King-Sokolov estate buzzed with life, the grand halls adorned with flowers and lights that shimmered like stars. Tonight, the families weren’t just celebrating—they were making a statement. The engagement of both Nikolai and Brandon, and Landon and Mia, symbolized a union of power, love, and legacy that no one could ignore.

As the engagement ceremony commenced, all eyes seemed to turn to Brandon King as he descended the grand staircase. Gone was his usual understated style; tonight, he embodied elegance and sophistication, thanks to the persistent efforts of the Sokolov women.

Brandon’s dark hair, typically neat and straight, had been styled into soft curls that framed his face with an effortless charm. A subtle shine added to its allure, catching the warm glow of the chandeliers. His striking green eyes seemed even more vivid, a result of the soft champagne tones in his tailored suit.

The suit itself was a masterpiece—a modern twist on classic elegance. The double-breasted jacket, made of a rich cream silk, was adorned with subtle embroidery along the lapels that shimmered under the lights. A crisp white shirt, paired with a delicate satin bow tie, completed the look. His trousers, fitted perfectly, bore the same understated shimmer, elongating his form.

A pocket square in a muted gold shade and an antique brooch, gifted by Rai Sokolov, pinned to his lapel, added just the right amount of sophistication. A pair of glossy oxford shoes and a matching gold wristwatch tied the entire ensemble together.

The room seemed to collectively hold its breath as Brandon reached the base of the stairs. For a moment, he felt self-conscious, his fingers fidgeting slightly before Nikolai appeared by his side.

“You look…” Nikolai paused, his golden eyes wide, his lips parting slightly before curving into a soft smile. “Like a dream.”

Brandon flushed, his cheeks tinted with a rose hue. “Rai and the twins insisted,” he murmured. “I didn’t think it was necessary—”

“Necessary?” Nikolai interrupted, taking Brandon’s hand and drawing him closer. “You could wear a sack and still outshine everyone here. But this…” He gestured to the ensemble. “This is art.”

Nearby, Rai stood with a satisfied smile, sipping her champagne as she observed the effect of their efforts. “I told you curls would suit him,” she murmured to Mia, who nodded enthusiastically.

“I know, right? He looks like he stepped out of a royal portrait,” Mia said, her tone full of pride.

"And our brother is a goner" Maya snickered.

Even Landon, known for his sharp tongue, was momentarily silent as his eyes flicked to his twin. “Okay,” he finally said, smirking. “You win best-dressed, but only because I’m feeling generous tonight.”

“Generous?” Nikolai quipped, his arm protectively slipping around Brandon’s waist. “I’d call it admitting defeat.”

All of them laughed.

Astrid and Levi King exchanged a look from across the room, their expressions soft as they watched their son bask in the admiration. “He’s glowing,” Astrid whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“He deserves to,” Levi replied, his arm tightening around her. “He’s finally happy.”

As the ceremony continued, guests couldn’t help but comment on Brandon’s look, many approaching him with genuine compliments.

“You’re stunning tonight, Brandon,” one of the Sokolov associates said with a warm smile.

Brandon, ever modest, ducked his head. “Thank you. The Sokolovs take all the credit.”

“But you carry it,” Nikolai whispered against his ear, his deep voice sending a shiver down Brandon’s spine.

The evening flowed seamlessly, with Brandon remaining the quiet center of attention. Every glance, every soft word of admiration, seemed to draw a protective energy from Nikolai, who stayed close to his side.

Kyle Hunter stood near the edge of the room, a glass of whiskey in hand. The amber liquid caught the light, but his attention wasn’t on his drink. His gaze was fixed on his son, Nikolai, who stood at the center of the room with Brandon by his side. Nikolai’s expression, usually guarded and sharp, was softer tonight. It was a rare sight, one Kyle couldn’t help but marvel at.

“He’s happy,” Rai’s voice came from beside him. She slipped her arm through his, her presence grounding as always. “I don’t think I’ve seen him smile like that since he was a boy.”

Kyle nodded, his throat tightening slightly. Nikolai’s life had been anything but easy. The expectations, the danger, the constant pressure to uphold the Sokolov name—it had forged him into the fierce, unrelenting man he was today.

But Brandon King had managed to bring out something else in him—something softer, something Kyle hadn’t been sure still existed.

“Brandon’s good for him,” Kyle said quietly. He watched as Nikolai leaned down to whisper something to Brandon, who laughed, his face lighting up with pure joy. The sound carried across the room, drawing a few smiles from the guests. “He’s the reason Niko smiles like that. The reason he can finally breathe.”

Rai squeezed his arm, her own gaze following his. “He’s the reason Nikolai’s finally let himself be loved.”

Kyle’s lips quirked into a small smile. “And to think, I used to believe no one could handle my son’s temper.”

“Brandon doesn’t handle it,” Rai said, her voice tinged with amusement. “He melts it. There’s a difference.”

Kyle chuckled, the sound low and warm. His attention shifted briefly to the other couple—Landon and Mia—who were currently locked in a playful argument near the dessert table. Landon, ever the dramatic twin, gestured wildly as Mia tried to swat his hand away from the chocolate truffles.

“That one,” Kyle said, nodding toward Landon, “is a handful. I don’t know how Mia puts up with him.”

“She’s just as stubborn,” Rai replied, a note of pride in her voice. “And just as loyal. They’re perfect for each other.”

Kyle couldn’t argue with that. He’d watched Mia grow from a fierce little girl into a formidable woman—one who could stand toe-to-toe with anyone, including her equally unyielding fiancé.

The music shifted, signaling the start of the engagement announcements. Kyle straightened, his heart swelling as Nikolai and Brandon stepped forward, their hands entwined. Landon and Mia followed suit, the four of them standing together as a united front.

Astrid and Levi King stood nearby, their expressions proud as they watched their sons. Astrid caught Kyle’s eye and offered a small, knowing smile. They’d come a long way to get to this point, their families tied together in ways neither could have imagined years ago.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the master of ceremonies began, his voice carrying over the room, “tonight, we celebrate not just one love story, but two. The union of the Kings and Sokolovs is a testament to the power of family, loyalty, and, above all, love.”

The crowd erupted into applause, but Kyle’s attention remained on his son. Nikolai turned to Brandon, his expression softening even further as he spoke words only Brandon could hear. Whatever he said made Brandon laugh again, his cheeks tinged pink as he leaned into Nikolai’s side.

“He’s happy,” Kyle murmured, more to himself than anyone else. His chest tightened with a mix of pride and gratitude. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for him.”

Rai pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And now he has it.”

The evening unfolded in a blur of toasts, laughter, and dancing. Kyle found himself pulled into conversations with old allies and new acquaintances, each one eager to congratulate him on the engagements. But his focus always drifted back to Nikolai, to the light in his son’s eyes that hadn’t been there before Brandon came into his life.

At one point, the sound of raised voices drew Kyle’s attention to a corner of the room. Landon and Nikolai were at it again, their usual banter escalating into what could only be described as an intense verbal sparring match.

“It’s not my fault your tie looks like it was tied by a drunk toddler,” Landon said, smirking as he adjusted his own perfectly knotted tie.

Nikolai narrowed his eyes. “At least I didn’t spill champagne on my fiancé’s dress.”

Mia’s exasperated voice cut in, “You’re both insufferable. Can we get through one evening without you two trying to one-up each other?”

Brandon, standing beside Nikolai, hid a laugh behind his hand. “They wouldn’t be them if they did, Mia.”

Nikolai leaned down to Brandon, his voice low but audible enough for Landon to hear. “He’s just jealous because I’m better at everything.”

Landon stepped forward, his stormy eyes blazing. “Better at being a pain in the ass, maybe.”

Before things could escalate further, Brandon placed a gentle hand on Nikolai’s chest, his touch instantly calming him. “Don’t let him get to you. Besides,” he added with a teasing smile, “we both know you’d win.”

Nikolai’s lips curved into a smug grin, and Landon groaned. “I’m surrounded by traitors.”

The moment diffused into laughter, and Kyle couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Despite their constant bickering, there was an unspoken understanding between Landon and Nikolai—a begrudging respect that came from the shared knowledge of what it meant to love fiercely and protect even more fiercely.

As the night wound down, the couples found themselves on the dance floor again. Nikolai pulled Brandon close, his hands resting securely on his fiancé’s waist. “You’re mine, Brandon King. Always.”

Brandon smiled, his eyes shining. “And you’re mine, Nikolai Sokolov. Always.”

Nearby, Landon twirled Mia dramatically, earning a laugh from her that rang out like a melody. “You’re not bad at this,” Mia admitted, her eyes sparkling.

“Not bad?” Landon repeated, feigning offense. “Woman, I’m the best. Admit it.”

Mia smirked, pulling him closer. “You’re tolerable.”

For the first time in a long time, Kyle allowed himself to relax. The future was uncertain, as it always was in their world. But tonight, surrounded by family and love, he felt a rare and precious sense of peace.

The celebration winded down with soft music and the gentle murmur of conversations in the grand hall. The Sokolovs and Kings were scattered among the remaining guests, each engaged in their own worlds.

Brandon, however, found himself drawn outside, the cool night air offering a reprieve from the overwhelming attention he had received all evening.

He leaned against the railing of the expansive terrace, his curls tousled slightly by the breeze, his champagne glass resting on the balustrade. The garden below glimmered with fairy lights, casting a warm, magical glow over the scene.

“You disappeared.”

Brandon turned to find Nikolai standing a few feet away, his golden eyes glinting in the moonlight. His tie was undone, the top buttons of his shirt open, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone. There was an ease to Nikolai now, the sharpness he carried during the ceremony melting into something softer, more vulnerable.

“I needed a moment,” Brandon admitted, his voice quiet but steady. “It’s…a lot.”

Nikolai approached, stopping just inches away. He took the glass from Brandon’s hand and set it aside, his fingers lingering on Brandon’s wrist before sliding up to cup his cheek. “You were breathtaking tonight,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the faint blush that still lingered on Brandon’s skin.

Brandon laughed softly, his lashes lowering. “You’ve said that about a dozen times.”

“And I’ll say it a dozen more,” Nikolai countered, his voice husky. He tilted Brandon’s chin up, their eyes locking. “Because it’s true. Every single person in that room saw it, but I…” His voice dipped, filled with raw emotion. “I get to have you. You’re mine, Brandon.”

Brandon rested his forehead against Nikolai’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “You make me feel safe,” he whispered. “Even when everything feels overwhelming, you’re my anchor.”

Nikolai wrapped his arms tightly around him, one hand threading through Brandon’s curls. “And you’re my peace,” he replied, his voice barely audible. “Everything I didn’t know I needed.”

Their moment was interrupted by the sound of laughter from the hall, growing louder as Landon and Mia stumbled onto the terrace.

“Found them,” Landon announced, smirking as he spotted the pair.

Mia rolled her eyes, swatting at him. “They were having a moment, you brute.”

Nikolai scowled, but Brandon only smiled, his cheeks flushing as Mia approached to adjust the curls framing his face. “You’re still stealing the show, Brandon,” she teased, her eyes glinting with affection.

“I think he’s just humoring you,” Landon chimed in, leaning against the railing with a lazy grin. “But hey, you look decent.”

“Decent?” Nikolai shot back, his arm still firmly around Brandon. “He’s perfection, and you know it.”

Landon raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Easy, Sokolov. You’ll scare him off.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Brandon said softly, looking up at Nikolai. The sincerity in his voice silenced the banter, a quiet moment of understanding passing between the two couples.

As the night deepened, they all stood together under the stars—two couples, two futures intertwined, and the unshakable bonds of love and family holding them steady.

---

The morning light streamed through the grand dining room’s floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the table in a warm, golden hue. The Kings and Sokolovs were gathered for breakfast, the air filled with the clinking of silverware and the soft hum of conversation.

Rai sat at the head of the table, her gaze flitting between her children and their soon-to-be spouses. Nikolai and Brandon were seated beside each other, their hands brushing every so often as they reached for coffee or shared a laugh. Across from them, Mia and Landon mirrored their dynamic, though Landon’s boisterous remarks were met with Mia’s quiet amusement.

“I still can’t believe how stunning the ceremony was,” Astrid King said, her smile warm as she looked around the table. “You all looked like something out of a fairytale.”

Brandon flushed under the compliment, his curls bouncing slightly as he ducked his head. “It was all thanks to everyone’s efforts.”

“Especially the Sokolovs,” Levi added, raising his coffee cup in acknowledgment. “The entire night was flawless.”

Rai offered a polite smile, her attention momentarily drawn to the servant entering the room with a stack of parcels. The gifts had been arriving since dawn, a steady stream of tokens from guests and well-wishers.

“Another one?” Kyle murmured from her left, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Rai nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line as she gestured for the servant to place the latest arrivals with the others. “Put them aside for now,” she instructed, her voice calm but firm. “We’ll deal with them later.”

Brandon glanced up, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “More gifts? I hope we don’t need to write another round of thank-you notes,” he joked, eliciting a chuckle from Nikolai.

Rai forced a smile, masking the unease simmering beneath her composed exterior. “Don’t worry, Brandon. We’ll handle it.”

The conversation shifted back to the ceremony, with Mia recounting a particularly amusing moment when Landon nearly toppled over trying to avoid stepping on her dress. The table erupted into laughter, the tension momentarily forgotten.

But Rai couldn’t shake the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. She exchanged a glance with Kyle, who gave a barely perceptible nod. Landon, too, seemed unusually quiet, his gaze lingering on the stack of parcels as if sharing her suspicions.

Once breakfast concluded, the families began to disperse. Nikolai and Brandon headed off to enjoy their day together, Brandon’s laughter trailing behind them as they disappeared down the hall. Mia dragged Landon toward the garden, much to his mock annoyance.

As the room emptied, Rai rose from her seat, smoothing her silk blouse. “Kyle,” she said softly, her voice laced with intent.

“Already on it,” he replied, pushing back his chair and striding toward the stack of parcels.

Rai crossed the room, her heels clicking against the polished floor. “Let’s see what our well-wishers have sent us,” she said, her tone light but her eyes steely.

“Shall we?” Kyle asked, stepping forward to unwrap the first gift.

Rai nodded, her fingers smoothing her silk blouse. “Let’s start with the smaller ones.”

They worked in silence, unwrapping tokens of appreciation from guests—a set of fine porcelain, a rare painting, an intricately designed clock. But then came a small rectangular box tied with a black ribbon.

Kyle untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was a bouquet of white roses, their petals pristine and fragrant. But as he lifted the bouquet, something dripped onto the floor—a dark crimson drop that spread across the polished surface.

Rai’s breath caught as she stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor. The stems of the roses were slick with blood, staining the white blooms.

“It’s blood,” Kyle confirmed, his jaw tightening.

Nestled within the roses was a card. Rai reached for it with steady hands, though her pulse quickened as she read the words scrawled in elegant script:

'Beauty often hides the deadliest of thorns.'

Her fingers tightened around the card as she handed it to Kyle. “This wasn’t sent with good intentions.”

Kyle’s face darkened as he set the bouquet back in the box. “It’s a warning.”

Rai crossed her arms, her expression unreadable “Or a threat.”

Rai’s gaze swept toward the hallway where her children’s laughter echoed faintly. Her heart clenched, but her voice was steady as she said, “Whatever it is, it ends here. No one disturbs this family.”

Kyle nodded, his tone resolute. “We’ll deal with this quietly. The kids don’t need to know.”

Rai straightened her posture, her aura commanding. “And if this is a game they’re playing, they’ve chosen the wrong family to target.”

Chapter Text

The morning sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the King-Sokolov estate, illuminating the sprawling breakfast table.

It was a rare sight: the entire family gathered together, a moment of peace and normalcy amidst the chaos that usually defined their lives.

Astrid King sipped her coffee with a serene smile, watching her sons—Landon and Brandon—bicker over something as trivial as who had the better board tricks. Levi sat beside her, reading the paper but clearly tuned in to the conversation.

“You’ll never beat me on the slopes,” Landon said smugly, leaning back in his chair.

Brandon raised an eyebrow, his tone playful. “That’s because you spend more time showing off than actually boarding.”

Astrid chuckled softly, her gaze warm. “It’s good to see you two excited about something other than work for a change.”

Levi folded the paper and set it aside. “Snowboarding, huh? Is this just a twins’ thing, or are we all invited?”

Mia perked up from her seat next to Landon, her eyes sparkling. “We were thinking of making it a family trip. It’s been a while since we’ve all done something like this together.”

Rai Sokolov glanced at her husband, Kyle, who gave a small shrug. “It’s not a bad idea,” Rai admitted. “kids could use a break, and so could the rest of us.”

“I call being on Bran’s team,” Mia announced, grinning.

“Not a chance,” Nikolai cut in, his arm draped over Brandon’s chair. “He’s mine.”

“Possessive much?” Mia muttered, earning a glare from Nikolai.

Astrid laughed lightly, the tension dissipating. “It sounds like a wonderful idea. Let’s make it happen.”

---

The private snowboarding area was nothing short of magical.
Nestled in the mountains, the exclusive resort had been reserved entirely for the family. The untouched snow glistened under the sunlight, and the crisp air was filled with the scent of pine.

Brandon stood at the edge of the slope, his cheeks flushed with excitement. His dark hair peeked out from beneath his beanie, his warm smile lighting up the winter landscape.

“You look like a snow prince,” Astrid said, wrapping an arm around him for a moment.

“More like a snowball,” Landon quipped, earning a light shove from his twin.

Levi chuckled, adjusting his gloves. “Careful, Lan. You’ll end up as a snowman if you keep teasing him.”

Rai and Kyle watched the family dynamic from a distance, their expressions soft. “It’s moments like these that make everything worth it,” Rai said quietly.

Kyle nodded, his eyes on Brandon and Nikolai. “He’s good for our boy. Never thought I’d see Nikolai this…balanced.”
The slopes quickly became a playground of friendly competition.

Brandon and Mia teamed up, their laughter echoing through the frosty air as they raced down the hill. Nikolai and Landon trailed behind, each determined to outdo the other.

“You call that a jump?” Landon shouted as Nikolai executed a flawless trick.

“Better than anything you’ve got, King,” Nikolai shot back, his smirk hidden behind his scarf.

“Boys, boys,” Mia teased as she zipped past them. “Try to keep up, will you?”

Levi and Astrid opted for a more leisurely pace, enjoying the scenery and the rare chance to see their children so carefree. “It’s good to see them like this,” Astrid said, her voice tinged with emotion.

“They deserve it,” Levi replied, his arm brushing hers as they walked.

Meanwhile, Rai and Kyle stayed at the top of the slope, sipping hot chocolate and watching the antics below. “It’s like herding cats,” Rai said, shaking her head but smiling nonetheless.

“It’s good for them,” Kyle replied. “They’ve earned this.”
The laughter and lighthearted teasing painted a picture of a perfect day.

Mia and Brandon collapsed into a pile of snow after a particularly intense race, their breath visible in the cold air.
“I think we won,” Brandon said, grinning up at her.

“We definitely did,” Mia agreed, bumping her fist against his.

Nikolai appeared moments later, pulling Brandon to his feet. “Having fun?” he asked, his tone soft.

“The best,” Brandon replied, leaning into him for warmth.

Nearby, Landon watched with a smirk. “Careful, Nikolai. Don’t let him get too comfortable, or he might forget who the real champion is.”

Brandon rolled his eyes, tossing a handful of snow at his brother. “Keep dreaming, Lan.”

Astrid and Levi shared a laugh at their sons’ antics, while Rai and Kyle exchanged a knowing look.
For now, everything was perfect.

---

The day was crisp and bright, with sunlight glinting off the pristine snow. The private snowboarding area was alive with joy as the Kings and Sokolovs, along with their extended family, indulged in the winter fun. The air echoed with laughter, Brandon’s soft chuckles blending beautifully with Mia’s delighted squeals as she raced Landon down a gentle slope.

Then the change of events happened so suddenly that it shattered the idyllic moment. A reckless snowboarder, perhaps unaware of the exclusivity of the area, barreled down at an uncontrollable speed. Brandon had barely turned to look when the stranger collided into him, the impact sending him sprawling backward.

Time seemed to slow as Nikolai’s shout echoed, “Bran!”

The sound of the collision and the sickening thud of Brandon hitting the icy ground reverberated across the slopes. Blood smeared the pristine snow, a vivid and horrifying contrast against the white.

Landon was the first to reach his twin, his face pale and his stormy eyes wide with panic. “Bran! Talk to me!” His hands trembled as he carefully cradled Brandon’s head, visibly fighting the urge to shake him awake.

Brandon groaned faintly, his eyes fluttering open. “Lan… I..” he whispered, though the crimson staining the snow and his pale face said more than enough.

Nikolai shoved past everyone, dropping to his knees beside Brandon. “baby, try to keep your eyes open.” he said, voice trembling .

His golden retriever-like energy was replaced with an unhinged fury, barely held back. He pressed his forehead against Brandon’s, his hands trembling as they hovered over him, unsure where to touch without causing more pain. “You stay with me, Bran. You hear me?”

The rest of the family surrounded them, their joyous day spiraling into chaos. Mia stood frozen, tears streaming silently down her cheeks as Kyle barked orders. “Get the cars ready! Now!” he snapped, his voice sharp.

Rai’s sharp eyes took in everything, the blood, the panic, and the undeniable bond between her son and Brandon. Kyle placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, but his face mirrored her worry. “If we lose him…” she murmured, the words unspoken but understood.

Brandon wasn’t just Nikolai’s anchor; he was Landon’s lifeline too. The thought of losing him sent a chill through her that had nothing to do with the winter air.

Despite the pain and the blood, Brandon’s focus remained on Nikolai. “Don’t… be mad, Niko,” he whispered, his voice faint but earnest. Rai’s breath hitched at the sight—Brandon, on the verge of unconsciousness, still worried about Nikolai’s wrath.

As Brandon’s eyes fluttered shut, Nikolai let out a growl that was more animalistic than human. “Stay awake, Don’t you dare leave me!” His voice cracked, his tears freezing against his cheeks.

Landon scooped Brandon into his arms as though he weighed nothing, his jaw clenched so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t shatter. “We’re going home. Now.” His tone brooked no argument.

The ride back was tense. Landon held Brandon securely in the backseat, his hands never leaving his twin’s, while Nikolai fussed over him incessantly. The rest of the family rode in strained silence, the weight of what had happened pressing heavily on them.

Rai sat in the front, her sharp mind whirring. Her maternal instincts screamed that this wasn’t just an accident, but she held her tongue for now, focusing instead on the fragile boy who had become the center of her son’s world.

As they reached home, Landon carried Brandon down the estate’s grand hallway, his usually stormy expression now carved with worry. His twin was limp in his arms, and every stumble, every sharp inhale Brandon took, sent tremors through Landon’s chest. He didn’t care about the pristine marble underfoot or the ornate crown moldings—they blurred into insignificance.

Nikolai was a step ahead, practically shoving open the double doors to the estate’s private medical wing. The room was outfitted with state-of-the-art equipment, its pristine white walls reflecting the harsh glow of medical lights. The physician stood ready, a small team of assistants by his side, prepared for emergencies like this.

“Put him down here,” the doctor instructed, gesturing to the adjustable bed in the center of the room.

Landon’s arms resisted at first, reluctant to relinquish his twin. It was only when Nikolai touched his shoulder, a rare moment of silent understanding between them, that he eased Brandon onto the bed.

Nikolai immediately claimed a spot beside Brandon, gripping his hand. His jaw tightened as he brushed Brandon’s sweat-dampened hair back. “You’ll be fine, lotus flower. Just let them do their work.” His voice was quiet but strained.

Rai and Kyle stood in the background, their commanding presences a source of unspoken reassurance. Rai’s sharp gaze assessed the doctor’s every move, while Kyle rested a hand on her shoulder, his silent support grounding her.

Astrid and Levi lingered near the door, their expressions tight with worry. “If there’s anything—anything—he needs, just say the word,” Levi offered, his voice low but firm.

The physician worked with quiet efficiency,
Brandon winced when the antiseptic touched his skin, and Landon was immediately by his side, crouching low. “You’re okay, Baby bro. Just a little longer,” he murmured, his voice gentler now.

Brandon’s eyes fluttered open briefly, locking onto Landon’s. “Don’t look so worried,” he murmured, his tone barely above a whisper. “You’ll get wrinkles.”

Landon let out a shaky laugh, brushing a stray curl from Brandon’s forehead. “Idiot.”

The doctor finished the stitches and applied a bandage, then injected a mild sedative. “He’ll be in pain for a while,he’s stable for now, but he needs rest and careful monitoring.” Rai nodded, her expression unreadable.

As the tension in the room began to ease, Nikolai knelt beside Brandon, his expression unguarded and raw. He pressed a kiss to Brandon’s temple, whispering something in Russian that only Rai seemed to catch. Her eyes softened, but she said nothing.

Landon didn’t move from his spot, his hand still gripping Brandon’s. The rest of the family began to disperse, giving them some space. Rai lingered, her sharp eyes observing the scene. She saw how Landon’s thumb moved in soothing circles over Brandon’s knuckles and how Nikolai stayed within arm’s reach, his body coiled like a spring.

For all their strength and bravado, Rai thought, these two were utterly lost without Brandon.

---

Brandon’s recovery was met with a collective sigh of relief that swept through the King-Sokolov estate. The morning sunlight streamed through the wide windows of the medical wing, painting golden streaks across the pristine white walls. Brandon was propped up in bed, his face pale but peaceful,the bandage and the faint bruises along his temple a stark reminder of the recent incident. His lips curved into a soft smile as he blinked awake, the familiar scent of Nikolai’s cologne and the warmth of Landon’s presence grounding him.

“Morning, lotus flower,” Nikolai greeted softly, seated at Brandon’s bedside with his hand cradling Brandon’s. His usually sharp features were softened with relief, though his gaze flickered with a shadow of worry.

Landon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his stormy eyes fixed on his twin. “Finally awake. Took you long enough,” he grumbled, but his voice betrayed his overwhelming concern. Despite his words, he stepped closer, his hand brushing Brandon’s shoulder with uncharacteristic gentleness.

Brandon’s chuckle was weak but genuine. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Lan.”

Mia entered the room shortly after, carrying a tray laden with light breakfast options. “Look who’s finally up!” Mia’s bright voice filled the space as she set the tray down. “I told you he’d be fine. Sokolovs are tough, right, Bran?”

“King-Sokolov,” Brandon corrected teasingly, his grin earning a collective laugh.

As the morning progressed, the estate’s vibrant energy returned. The sprawling living room buzzed with activity as family members gathered, each vying for Brandon’s attention in their own way. Levi and Astrid King were notably relieved, their usual composed demeanor cracking to reveal their profound parental love.

“Next time, no snowboarding,” Astrid declared firmly, though her tone was softened by the way she smoothed Brandon’s hair. “Or at least not without a thousand safety checks.”

Rai and Kyle observed quietly from the sidelines, their sharp eyes never straying far from their children.

“How do you feel?” Levi asked, his concern evident as he sat beside his son.

“Better,” Brandon replied sincerely. “Just a bit sore, but I’ll live.”

“You’d better,” Landon muttered. His voice was low, but it carried the weight of his devotion. “Don’t make me carry you again, Bran.”

The comment earned a chuckle from everyone, lightening the atmosphere. Even Nikolai cracked a small smile, though his gaze lingered on Brandon’s face, his thumb tracing absent patterns along the back of Brandon’s hand.

---

Later that day, as the household settled back into its routine, Landon made his way to the Sokolov couple. They were seated in Kyle’s study, a space that exuded an air of quiet authority. The walls were lined with dark mahogany shelves filled with books and artifacts from their travels, and a decanter of aged whiskey sat untouched on the desk.

Landon closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his expression unreadable. “We need to talk.”

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since the incident on the slopes. Though the pain lingered, the bruises had begun to fade, and the family had finally settled into some semblance of normalcy. Everyone had been doting over bran, though none more than Nikolai, whose overprotective nature had intensified tenfold. But what caught Brandon’s attention the most was Landon.

His twin had been uncharacteristically present. Not that Landon wasn’t always there, but this was different. He hovered, always finding some excuse to linger in Brandon’s vicinity. Every moment together felt weightier, as though Landon was trying to memorize him in a way that sent a strange pang through Brandon’s chest.

This morning, Brandon sat on the sun-drenched balcony adjoining his bedroom, wrapped in a blanket. The estate’s sprawling gardens stretched before him, a serene contrast to the chaos of recent days. Landon appeared, a tray balanced in his hands.

“Breakfast delivery,” Landon announced with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Brandon chuckled softly, adjusting the blanket. “Since when do you play waiter?”

“Since my brother became the most demanding patient on earth,” Landon teased, setting the tray down. It held his favorites—perfectly toasted bagels, fresh berries, and a glass of orange juice.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Brandon said, though he was already picking at the food.

Landon shrugged, dropping into the chair beside him. “Not everyone gets this privilege.”

For a moment, the only sounds were the chirping of birds and the rustle of the trees in the morning breeze. Brandon felt Landon’s gaze on him, heavy with something he couldn’t quite place.

“You okay, Lan?” he asked cautiously.

Landon flashed a smirk, leaning back. “You’re asking me that? You’re the one recovering from a near-death experience.”

Brandon rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. A little sore, but fine. You, on the other hand…” He trailed off, watching Landon carefully.

Landon’s jaw tightened, his usual confident facade slipping for a fraction of a second before he masked it again. “I’m fine, too. Just… glad you’re okay.”

There it was again—that weight in his words, the unspoken something that gnawed at Brandon’s curiosity.

“Well, I’d be better if you stopped looking at me like I’m made of glass,” Brandon joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Shut up and eat,” Landon shot back, but his voice lacked its usual sharpness. Instead, he reached over, tugging the blanket tighter around Brandon’s shoulders. “It’s chilly out here.”

Brandon frowned, studying his twin. “You’ve been… different lately. Fussing over me like a mother hen. Should I be worried?”

“Don’t read too much into it,” Landon said, his tone breezy. “You scared the hell out of me on that slope. I’m just making sure you’re not stupid enough to do it again.”

"You’re really weird today," Brandon teased, though his smile was gentle.

Landon shrugged, his usual smirk returning. "Can’t a guy spend some quality time with his favorite twin?"

"I’m your only twin," Brandon pointed out, earning a laugh from his twin.

Brandon laughed along softly but couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Landon’s behavior than he was letting on.

They spent the rest of the morning together, talking about everything and nothing. Landon shared exaggerated stories about their childhood, making Brandon laugh so hard his sides hurt. Yet, every so often, Brandon caught a flicker of something in Landon’s expression—guilt, maybe? Sadness?

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Nikolai appeared, his usual scowl softened when he saw Brandon. “Time for your walk, lotus flower,” he said, ignoring Landon entirely.

Brandon groaned playfully. “I’m starting to think you enjoy bossing me around.”

“I do,” Nikolai replied without hesitation, his lips quirking into a small smile.

Landon stood, patting Brandon’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you to your overbearing fiancé. Try not to trip over your own feet.”

Brandon rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at the familiar banter. As Landon walked away, Brandon watched him, a strange unease settling in his chest.

Something was different about his twin, and while Brandon couldn’t quite put his finger on it, he silently vowed to figure it out.

---

The day stretched lazily, the rhythm of recovery settling over the estate. Brandon found himself on the couch in the grand living room later that afternoon, a cup of tea balanced precariously on the armrest. Nikolai had left briefly to deal with some family business, leaving Brandon alone for the first time in what felt like days.

Or so he thought.

“Don’t spill that,” Landon’s voice broke through the quiet, and Brandon startled slightly, nearly tipping the cup.

“Seriously, can you stop sneaking up on me?” Brandon said, glaring half-heartedly as Landon crossed the room.

Landon didn’t respond, instead picking up a blanket from a nearby chair and tossing it over Brandon’s legs.

“Lan, I’m not freezing to death,” Brandon said with a laugh.

“Humor me,” Landon muttered, sitting down on the ottoman in front of him.

Brandon sighed, taking a sip of his tea. Landon’s gaze felt heavier than usual.

“Okay, enough,” Brandon said, setting his cup down and leaning forward. “Spill it.”

Landon raised an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “Spill what?”

“You’ve been acting weird ever since the accident. Hovering, smothering, and—dare I say it—being… nice. It’s starting to freak me out.”

“I’m always nice,” Landon said with mock offense, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“Lan.” Brandon’s tone was softer now, the teasing gone. “What’s going on?”

For a moment, Landon didn’t respond. He stared at his hands, his usually confident demeanor cracking just enough for Brandon to catch a glimpse of the turmoil underneath.

“You scared me, Bran,” Landon finally said, his voice quieter than Brandon had ever heard it. “When I saw you lying there… the blood…” He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “I’ve never felt that helpless before.”

Brandon’s chest tightened, the vulnerability in his twin’s voice hitting him harder than he expected.

“Lan…”

“I know I don’t always show it,” Landon continued, cutting him off. “But you’re everything, Bran. I’ve spent our whole lives thinking I could protect you from anything. But seeing you hurt like that…”

His voice broke, and Brandon reached out, grabbing his hand.

“I’m okay,” Brandon said, his own voice shaking slightly. “I’m here, Lan. I’m fine.”

Landon nodded, his eyes glassy as he looked away. “Yeah, well, maybe I just need to remind myself of that. Every second.”

Brandon smiled faintly, squeezing Landon’s hand. “You’re stuck with me. You know that, right?”

Landon let out a shaky laugh, finally meeting his gaze. “You better mean that, or I’m dragging you back from the grave myself.”

Brandon rolled his eyes, though his chest felt warm. “Always so dramatic.”

“Who do you think I learned it from?”

LANDON’s POV

After a while, Brandon was quiet , his head resting against the cushions, the book propped lazily in his lap. His breaths came slow and soft, his body still recovering, but his stubbornness to act like everything was fine hadn’t wavered a bit.

I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him struggle to read, his brows furrowed as if he were trying to solve some great mystery hidden in the pages.

“Struggling much?” I called out, smirking.

His head snapped up, and he blinked at me, looking guilty as hell. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the book looked like it was winning the fight.

“Right,” I said, stepping closer and swiping the book from his hands before he could argue. “Move over.”

He gave me a look, somewhere between annoyance and amusement, but he scooted to the side. I plopped down beside him, flipping the book open.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone exasperated.

“Being the best brother you could ever ask for,” I said, making myself comfortable.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t protest further. “Just don’t ruin it.”

“Ruining things is beneath me,” I replied dramatically, clearing my throat and holding the book like it was some ancient artifact.

I started reading, exaggerating every line, changing voices for each character like I was auditioning for a play. It wasn’t long before Bran was laughing, his eyes lighting up in a way that eased some of the tension I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying.

“That’s not what the knight would sound like,” he said, his voice light with laughter.

“And you’d know this how?” I shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“I just do,” he retorted, grinning.

“Uh-huh. Well, your opinion is noted. Wrong, but noted.”

He chuckled, leaning against me, and for a moment, it was easy to forget everything else. The worry, the fear, the suffocating guilt—it all faded in the face of his laughter.

But as I kept reading, his comments grew fewer, his responses quieter. It wasn’t long before I realized he’d gone completely still. I looked down to find him sound asleep, his head resting against my shoulder, his features soft and peaceful.

For a moment, I just sat there, watching him. My twin, my other half, the person I’d always sworn to protect. And yet, lately, I felt like I was failing him.

I adjusted the blanket around him, making sure he was warm, and leaned back against the couch. “You really are the worst listener,” I murmured, keeping my voice low so I wouldn’t wake him.

Still, I didn’t stop reading. Quietly, I finished the story, the sound of my voice the only thing breaking the silence of the room. When I closed the book, I set it aside and let my head rest against the back of the couch.

I stared up at the ceiling, my thoughts spinning. The laughter we’d shared earlier felt like a fleeting moment of sunlight breaking through the clouds. But those clouds hadn’t gone anywhere.

Bran shifted slightly in his sleep, and I glanced down at him again. He looked so peaceful, so fragile. My chest tightened at the thought.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was running out of time. That no matter what I did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But for now, I let him sleep. I stayed right where I was, his quiet breathing the only thing grounding me. Because if this was all the time I had, I wasn’t going to waste a second of it.

Chapter Text

Rai's POV:

The night carried a buzz of anticipation, the estate glowing with the warm light of celebration. This was no ordinary gathering; it marked Kyle's and my anniversary, a moment to bring family together.

Yet this time, there was an added weight to the evening. My parents—Nikolai’s grandparents—were visiting for the first time in years, a rare event given their distaste for leaving Russia.

I noticed Brandon lingering near the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back. His usual calm was replaced by a quiet nervousness that didn’t escape me. It wasn’t hard to guess why.

“Brandon,” I called softly, approaching him.

He turned quickly, his expression flickering with unease before he composed himself. “Mrs. Sokolov,” he greeted, though his voice held a hint of strain.

I tilted my head, a small smile playing on my lips. “You don’t have to call me that,” I said gently. “Call me Mom.”

He hesitated before nodding, his lips pressing into a thin smile. “Mom” he echoed, though his tone remained tentative.

“You’re nervous,” I observed.

His laugh was short, almost self-deprecating. “A little,” he admitted. “I know how important tonight is for you… for Nikolai.”

I placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s important, yes, but not in the way you think,” I said. “My parents can be… intense. But they’ll see what we all see in you.”

He glanced at me, his blue eyes shadowed with doubt. “And what is that?”

“Someone who makes my son happy,” I said simply. “Someone who belongs here, with us.They’ll love you, Brandon,” Rai reassured gently, her voice tinged with amusement.

“They’re Nikolai’s grandparents. I just... I want to make a good impression,” Brandon admitted with a faint smile. “They mean the world to him, and he—well—means the world to me.”

Rai’s gaze softened. “That’s all they’ll need to see.”

The sound of the front door opening drew both our attention. I turned to see Nikolai escorting my parents into the grand entryway.

My mother, regal and composed, her sharp eyes sweeping the room, and my father, whose mere presence commanded attention, followed closely behind.

Nikolai stood tall beside them, his hand resting protectively on Brandon’s back as he approached.

I watched as Nikolai introduced Brandon.

Father’s gaze swept the room before landing on Brandon. He stepped forward, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “so you are Brandon,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the ambient chatter of the hall.

Brandon offered a polite smile, extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

Father took the offered hand, his grip firm. “Hmm,” was all he said at first, his expression unreadable. “Tell me, Brandon, how do you handle yourself in difficult situations?”

It was an abrupt question, but Brandon didn’t falter. “I try to stay calm and think through the problem, sir. Reacting impulsively rarely helps anyone.”

My father raised a brow, clearly assessing the response. “Good answer. But words are easy; action is what matters.”

“Actions are what define us,” Brandon agreed, holding father’s gaze with quiet confidence.

Father wasted no time cutting through the pleasantries. “What do you know about us, Brandon?” he asked, his tone sharp.

Brandon didn’t flinch. “I know you’ve built a legacy that Nikolai is proud to be a part of. A legacy rooted in strength, loyalty, and tradition.” He paused, glancing briefly at Nikolai before continuing.

“But I also know that Nikolai carries those values in a way that’s uniquely his. He’s strong, but not unkind. Loyal, but not blind. And I’d like to think I help him balance that, just as he helps me grow stronger.”

My father’s expression didn’t soften, but there was a glint of interest in his eyes. Mother, however, beamed. “A balance,” she repeated thoughtfully. “That’s what love should be, isn’t it?”

Beside me, Kyle smirked. “Well played,” he muttered under his breath.

My mother stepped in then, her warm smile lighting up the room. “And you are the one who has stolen my grandson’s heart,” she said, taking Brandon’s hand in hers. “You’re even more charming than he said you’d be.”

Brandon flushed slightly but smiled. “Thank you, ma’am. I hope to live up to that.”

“Oh, call me grandma,” she insisted, patting his hand. “We’re family now.”

As my parents greeted the others, another scene unfolded nearby. Mia and Landon approached my parents cautiously.

While Mia’s respect was evident in her quiet demeanor, Landon had his usual smirk plastered on his face, radiating his trademark narcissistic confidence.

Father turned his attention to them. “And this is the infamous Landon King,” he said, his tone neutral but his gaze assessing.

Landon, undeterred, extended his hand. “Infamous is putting it lightly,” he said, his voice dripping with self-assurance. “But I’ll take it as a compliment, sir.”

My Father’s lips twitched, though whether it was amusement or annoyance was hard to tell.

“Grandpa, please go easy on him,” Mia interjected with a nervous laugh, but Landon wasn’t done.

“And you must be the legend himself,” Landon continued, his tone light but with a glint of challenge in his eyes. “I can see where Nikolai gets his ‘intensity.’ Must be a family trait. Impressive.”

Kyle, standing nearby, coughed to hide his laugh, while my father simply raised a brow. “Confidence suits you,” he said, his tone measured. “Just make sure it’s earned.”

Mother, however, was delighted. “Oh, you’re as sharp-tongued Landon as Rai described,” she said with a laugh. “But I can see why Mia likes you. You’re bold—too bold, perhaps.”

“I like to think of it as knowing my worth,” Landon said smoothly, earning a slight eye-roll from Mia but a chuckle from mother.

“Landon,” Mia whispered sharply, nudging him.

“What?” he said, feigning innocence. “I’m just making conversation.”

Father finally broke the tension with a small nod. “You’re an interesting addition to this family, Landon King. Let’s hope you prove to be an asset.”

Landon grinned. “I don’t settle for anything."

Kyle nudges me," It turn out well."
I nodded, watching as my mother’s stern features softened ever so slightly. “Better than I expected,” I admitted.

As evening was drawing to a close, there was a rare moment of quiet, a moment where words could be exchanged without the weight of the audience.

Mother rested her teacup gently on its saucer and leaned forward, her kind eyes locking onto Brandon’s. “You have a way of making people feel at ease,” she began softly. “You remind me of someone.”

Brandon tilted his head slightly, curiosity and nervousness mingling in his gaze. “Who, grandma?”

She smiled at the title, warmth radiating from her expression. “Me,” she admitted, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

“When I first met niko's grandpa, I was terrified. Not because of who he was, but because I didn’t feel like I belonged in his world. I thought I would always be an outsider.”

Brandon glanced briefly at my father, who had been silent for most of the evening, his dominant aura as unyielding as ever. “How did you—”

“Survive?” mother finished for him, chuckling lightly. “By finding my place, by making it clear that my heart would always anchor his storm.”

Father finally spoke, his voice low but steady. “She became my conscience, my foundation. Without her, I would have destroyed everything—including myself.” His sharp eyes turned to Brandon. “And now I see Kolya has found the same with you.”

Brandon blinked, stunned by the weight of the statement. “I—I just try to support him the best I can,” he stammered.

“You do more than that,” mother assured him, reaching over to pat his hand. “We’ve watched Nikolai over the years—his anger, his struggles to fight the dark hole in his mind. But tonight, when I saw him look at you, Brandon, I realized something.”

“What’s that?” Brandon asked hesitantly.

“He doesn’t carry that weight alone anymore,” she said with a smile. “You’ve lightened it in ways we couldn’t.”

Father nodded, his approval rare but genuine. “You ground him. You remind him of the man he wants to be, not just the heir he’s expected to be. For that, you have our gratitude.”

Brandon’s throat tightened with emotion. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

“You’ll say yes,” mother said with a teasing glint in her eye, “when we invite you to visit us in Moscow.”

Brandon’s eyes widened. “Moscow?”

“Come see where Kolya’s legacy began,” father added. “It’s time you understand the roots of the family you’re now part of.”

Nikolai, standing quietly by Brandon’s side, placed a protective hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to, lotus flower,” he said gently.

But Brandon looked up at niko's grandparents and said, “I would be honored.”

Mother beamed, pulling Brandon into an unexpected but warm hug. Father offered a curt nod, his version of affection, and the quiet approval in his gaze said more than words ever could.

Nikolai turned to Brandon, pride radiating from him. “See? You didn’t just make a good impression—you made family.”

Brandon smiled,  “I guess I did.”

---

For the dinner, we moved to the dinning hall Which was bathed in the soft golden glow of chandeliers, their light reflecting off the fine crystal glasses and polished silverware. The table, long and elegant, was adorned with pristine white linens and understated floral arrangements—Mia’s doing, of course. The soft murmur of conversation and occasional laughter filled the room.

And Maya was out of country for her fashion week in France, so she couldn't join us.

I glanced at the empty seats where Astrid and Levi King were supposed to sit. A last-minute work emergency had pulled them away, and though their absence was felt, the rest of the family had promised to make the evening memorable.

At the center of it all sat Brandon, On either side of him were the two who orbited him like planets around a star—Landon on his left, Nikolai on his right.

Mia sat beside Landon, occasionally leaning over to murmur something that made him smirk. She was radiant as always, her charm effortlessly tying the group together.

My parents were sitting at the head of the table, glancing at the two couples fondly. I can tell they are pretty impressed by the king twins.

The meal began leisurely, with plates passed around and conversation flowing easily. Brandon, now being calm because of niko's grandparents approval of him,had a mischievous glint in his eyes. I noticed him subtly slipping a fork toward Nikolai’s plate, spearing a piece of perfectly seared salmon.

Nikolai caught him, of course. “Lotus flower,” he said in a soft, amused murmur, the nickname full of affection. “You could have asked.”

Brandon grinned, unapologetic. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Nikolai shook his head, his lips twitching upward as he pushed his plate closer.

A few minutes later, it was Landon’s turn. His glass of sparkling water disappeared, replaced by Brandon’s.

“Really?” Landon drawled, his stormy eyes narrowing as Brandon took a sip from his glass.

“It’s in my reach,” Brandon replied with mock innocence, setting the glass down but not quite returning it.

Mia chuckled beside Landon, shaking her head.

Kyle raised his glass at the head of the table, pulling everyone’s attention. “To family,” he said, his deep voice carrying a rare warmth. He turned his gaze to me, a softer smile gracing his lips. “And to Rai, the reason this family stands so strong.”

“To family,” everyone echoed, glasses clinking in a harmonious toast.

As the conversation resumed, I observed my children and their partners. Landon’s fierce protectiveness over Brandon mirrored Nikolai’s, though they showed it differently.

Nikolai’s hand rested on the back of Brandon’s chair, his thumb occasionally brushing against his shoulder in a silent check.

Landon, meanwhile, ensured Brandon’s plate was always filled, occasionally glancing at him with an intensity that was uniquely his.

Brandon, however, seemed oblivious to their constant doting, or perhaps he simply pretended not to notice. He reached out for Nikolai’s wineglass, earning a raised eyebrow from Nikolai and a chuckle from Landon.

“You’re recovering,” Nikolai teased.

“One sip won’t kill me,” Brandon countered, taking the tiniest sip before returning the glass with a sly smile.

Hearing that mother asked bran, " I heard you had an accident a while ago. How are you feeling now,son?"

"I'm better now." Bran replied politely.

My father didn't said anything, but his one glance in my direction told me everything he had in his mind.

After a while, Brandon went to his room and returned back with what look like a portrait. He went towards me and Kyle, "happy anniversary mom and dad" he said.

It was portrait of me and Kyle which left me speechless. "This looks..."

"Lovely"
"Beautiful"
"Perfect"
"Out of world"

Kyle, Mia , Niko , mother complete my sentence. My father looked impressed. He smiled,like genuinely smiled.

I hugged Bran followed by Kyle. "This is heavenly,sweetheart."

And then landon intervened with," Is it just me or did my baby bro really called you both,mom and dad," he said exaggerating.

I chuckled and said "yes,he did"

"Then why didn’t you call me son but on the contrary you told me to call you just Rai" then he asked acting betrayed.

"It’s because bran is special, so only he gets the privileges " I said it like a matter of fact to which Bran blushed.

---

Dinner and celebrations continue at its peak and I couldn't help but Watch them all and feel a swell of pride and gratitude. My family was far from conventional, but they were mine. And seeing the way Brandon brought out the best in both my son and future son-in-law filled me with a quiet, steadfast hope.

Kyle leaned closer, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “You’re still watching him.”

“Of course I am,” I admitted, my eyes lingering on the trio. “He’s the glue holding them together.”

Kyle’s hand covered mine, grounding me as he said firmly, “He’s strong, Rai. Stronger than anyone realizes.”

I nodded, a small smile curving my lips as Brandon leaned into Nikolai’s shoulder with a contented sigh, completely at ease. Strong, yes. But more than that, Brandon was loved, completely and unconditionally.

After the celebrations were ended, my parents said that they have to leave the next morning  because something happened that need their urgent attention. Ofcourse I knew about it after the discussion I had earlier with my father. But for now all I have to do is being patient.

Chapter Text

Brandon's POV

The house had been unusually quiet for the past few days. Not the kind of quiet that brought peace, but the kind that felt heavy, like the calm before a storm.

Tonight, that feeling had followed me into the living room, where the family had gathered for some rare downtime.

I sat on the couch with Nikolai beside me, his arm resting over my shoulders. He was scrolling through his phone, occasionally glancing at me, probably because I hadn’t said much all evening.

Across from us, my parents were talking in hushed tones with my grandparents, who were visiting us.

But something felt off.It was a small thing at first, a subtle itch at the back of my mind. Like the air was too still, too fragile, and the slightest disturbance would shatter it.

“Lotus flower, what’s wrong?” Nikolai’s voice was soft, tugging me out of my thoughts. His eyes, as sharp as ever, studied my face intently.

I hesitated. How was I supposed to explain a feeling I didn’t even understand?

“I don’t know,” I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… this feeling. Like something bad is going to happen.”

Across the room, I noticed Rai glance at me from where she was seated with Kyle. She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to read something I wasn’t saying out loud.

“Bran, you’ve been through a lot recently,” Mom said gently. “It’s normal to feel a bit on edge.”

I wanted to agree, to dismiss it as nothing, but I couldn’t shake the growing tension in my chest. I shifted uncomfortably and glanced around.

“Where’s Landon?” I asked suddenly, the question bursting out before I could stop it.

“Out,” Dad replied, his tone calm. “He had some errands to run, but he’ll be home soon.”

The answer wasn’t enough to settle my nerves. Landon now rarely went anywhere without telling me exactly where he’d be, and even when he did, he always stayed in touch.

“I’m calling him,” I said, pulling out my phone.

“Bran, it’s fine,” Dad started, but I was already dialing.

The phone rang, each buzz making my heart beat faster. Finally, he picked up.

“Bran?” Landon’s voice came through the line, calm but slightly distant.

“Where are you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but it came out sharper than I intended.

“Just finishing up some things,” he said, his tone even. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I just… I need you to come home.”

There was a pause, a heavy long pause.

“I’m on my way.” Landon said, and the line went dead.

I lowered the phone slowly, feeling Nikolai’s hand tighten on my shoulder.
“What did he say?” Nikolai asked, his voice low and steady.

“He’s coming home,” I replied, but the words didn’t bring any comfort.

Rai leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. But her gaze flicked to Kyle, and they shared a look I couldn’t decipher.

“It’s nothing, Bran,” Mom said gently, but her tone wavered just enough to catch my attention.

I didn’t answer. The unease refused to leave, settling deeper in my chest like a warning I couldn’t ignore.

The living room had grown quieter as time passed, but the suffocating unease inside me didn’t ease up. I kept glancing at the clock, counting the minutes since Landon had promised he was coming home. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it like a knot tightening in my chest.

---

After a while my phone vibrated on the table again, I grabbed it immediately, my hands trembling. Landon’s name flashed on the screen.

“Landon?” I answered quickly, my voice barely steady.

But what came through the other end wasn’t his familiar, arrogant tone or even his usual dismissive humor. It wasn’t him at all.

“This is Officer Carter with the city police department,” a calm, measured voice said. “Am I speaking to a relative of Landon King?”

The room spun. The words didn’t make sense.

“yes?” I whispered, my grip on the phone weakening.

“We’ve identified a black McLaren involved in an accident. The vehicle is registered under Landon King. We need a family member to—”

The phone slipped from my hand before I could hear the rest.

“Bran!” Nikolai’s voice snapped me out of my trance as he reached over and caught the phone before it hit the floor. My body felt frozen, my heart pounding in my ears.

Nikolai placed the phone to his ear, his features hardening as he listened. His jaw clenched tighter with every word, his free hand curling into a fist against his thigh.

The room seemed to tilt as Nikolai hung up the phone. My heart pounded painfully in my chest, and an eerie silence blanketed the air, broken only by the soft murmur of my mother’s voice.

“What did Lan say?” she asked, her words tentative, almost afraid to be spoken.

Nikolai stood there, his face unreadable, as if weighing how to share the news. Finally, he exhaled, his voice steady yet heavy with restrained emotion. “There was an accident.”

I sat up straighter, my breath hitching.
“They found Landon’s car—burned completely. There was a body inside.”

His voice broke slightly, but he pressed on. “It… It matches the general description.”

“No.” The word came out sharp, louder than I intended.

Mom gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Dad pulled her close, his expression a mask of shock and grief. Mia burst into quiet sobs, clutching tightly to Nikolai for support, while Grandpa sat stiffly, his face set in stone, his arm around Grandma.And Rai… she didn’t move, didn’t blink. She stood there like a statue along Kyle, her arms crossed, her gaze cold and distant.

I shot to my feet, my vision swimming with unshed tears. “No!” I said again, louder this time. “This can't be...”

“Bran,” Dad began, his voice gentle yet breaking, “the police—”

“I don’t care what they said!” I shouted, shaking my head fiercely.

“Bran,” Mom sobbed, stepping toward me, but I held my hand out, stopping her in her tracks.

“That can't be him,” I said, my voice trembling. “He’s my twin. I’d feel it. If he were gone, I’d feel it.”

“Sweetheart,” Grandma began softly, “sometimes the shock—”

“I’m not in shock!” I snapped, the frustration boiling over.

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by Mia’s muffled sobs.
Nikolai moved toward me, his hands raised as if trying to calm me. “Lotus flower, I know this is hard—”

“Don’t,” I said, my voice cracking. “Don’t talk to me like I’m crazy. I can feel him, Niko. He’s out there somewhere. He’s not… He’s not gone.”

Rai’s voice cut through the air, cold and calm. “The evidence is clear, Brandon. You need to accept the reality of the situation.”

I turned to her, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “You’re wrong,” I said, meeting her icy gaze with all the defiance I could muster.

Rai’s expression didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something unreadable.

I looked around the room, my heart breaking at the sight of my family drowning in grief. But no matter how much they tried to convince themselves, I knew the truth.

“He’s alive,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. “I know he is.”

And nothing—no police report, no burned car, no body—would ever make me believe otherwise.

The room was suffocating. The air felt too thick, heavy with their pity.
I stood there, staring at the people I called family, their faces etched with grief and resignation. Yet, not a single one of them believed me. Not truly.

"Bran," Dad started, his voice soft, like he was talking to a wounded animal. "I know this is hard—harder than anything—but we have to face truth."

"Truth?" My voice cracked, and I hated how small it sounded. "The only truth is that I know he’s not gone."

“Sweetheart…” Mom’s voice broke, and she reached for me, but I stepped back. Her hand fell to her side, her expression crumpling.

"Stop," I said, shaking my head. "Stop looking at me like that. Like I’m crazy or delusional."

“No one thinks you’re crazy,” Grandpa said, his deep, steady voice filling the silence. But his tone betrayed him, so gentle and careful, like he was handling something fragile.

“Then stop treating me like I’m broken!” I snapped, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.

The silence that followed was deafening. I could see it in their eyes—the pity, the worry, the disbelief.

Even Nikolai, standing just a few feet away, looked torn. His jaw was clenched, his hands fisted at his sides, but his eyes... they didn’t hold the unwavering certainty I needed.

I turned to Mia, hoping—praying—for some kind of understanding. But her tears only mirrored the others.

"Mia..." I said, my voice quieter now, almost pleading. "I feel him, Mia. How can you not see that? How can you not feel it too?"

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She just shook her head, another sob left her mouth looking away.

"You all think I’m making this up," I said, my voice breaking. "You think I’m holding on to some false hope because I can’t handle the truth."

“Brandon—”

“No!” I interrupted whoever had started to speak. "You don’t understand. He’s not dead."

I felt my knees weaken, but I refused to sit down. I wouldn’t let them think I was falling apart, even if I was.

Nikolai finally moved, stepping closer to me. “Lotus flower,” he began softly, his voice careful.

“Don’t,” I said, holding up a hand. “Don’t say it. Don’t try to comfort me. You don’t believe me either, do you?”

I turned away from them, heading toward the staircase. My chest felt like it was caving in, but I couldn’t let them see that.

"Brandon," Mom called after me, her voice trembling.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t.

As I reached my room and closed the door behind me, the weight of everything crashed down. My legs gave out, and I slid to the floor, pressing my forehead to my knees.

“Landon,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Where are you?”

For the first time since the call, the silence in my own mind scared me.

---

The family sat in a tense circle within the living room an hour later, the air thick with grief and disbelief. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional choked sob from my mother. My father held her close, his expression one of utter defeat. Grandpa Jonathan stood with his hands behind his back, his posture rigid as he gazed at the floor. Grandma clung to him, her tears staining his jacket.

I sat on the couch, staring down at the untouched cup of tea in my hands, my heart a storm of emotions.

The police officer had brought what they believed to be Landon’s belongings.

“The body was badly burned,” he said, his tone careful. “But the personal belongings found at the scene…”

He gestured toward a clear evidence bag. Inside was Landon’s watch—distinct, custom-made, a gift from our parents. His wallet was charred but intact enough to identify.

“It matches the description,” the officer continued. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. I barely noticed when Kyle stepped forward, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing as he reached for the bag.

“We’ll take this,” Kyle said curtly, his voice cold enough to freeze the air.

No one argued.

"If you would like to request an autopsy..."

"No need for that."

The officer was interrupted by Rai's authoritative voice.

Mom and Dad were standing just behind me, their faces pale and stricken. Dad had an arm around Mom, holding her up as she leaned into him for support. Grandma was silently sobbing into Grandpa Jonathan’s chest, her shoulders shaking. Even Mia, usually so composed, was crying openly, her hands covering her face.

Seems like they all agreed and accepted his death.

But I couldn’t cry.

I took a step forward, my legs shaking beneath me. The officer hesitated, his hand hovering over the bag as I reached out to touch it. My fingers brushed against the edge of the watch, and my chest tightened painfully.

“Brandon…” Mom’s voice cracked, tears streaming down her face.

“It’s not him!” I yelled, the desperation clawing its way out of my throat.

“Baby,” Dad said softly, stepping toward me. “We all wish it weren’t true. But the evidence…”

Nikolai’s hand landed on my shoulder, his grip firm but not harsh. “Lotus flower,” he said, his voice low. “You need to breathe.”

“I can’t—” My voice broke, and I stumbled back, wrenching away from his hold. "I knew something was wrong..." I couldn’t continue.

No one understood. They all looked at me like I was the one who was broken, clinging to a delusion because I couldn’t handle reality.

Reality.

---

The funeral came too quickly.

The hall was suffocating, not because of the crowd but because of the emotions that hung heavy in the air. Every face around me was etched with sorrow, eyes red-rimmed and teary. The priest’s voice droned on, reciting the words of farewell, but they barely registered.

I stood near the back, my legs trembling, my hands cold despite the warmth of the room. I couldn’t bring myself to move closer to the casket. Every step felt like a betrayal, as if walking toward it would mean accepting the unbearable truth.

Landon was gone.

I clenched my jaw, my chest heaving with uneven breaths. I couldn’t accept it, even as every logical part of me screamed that I had to. The evidence was there—the belongings, the police report, the fire. Everyone believed it. Everyone but me.

“Bran,” Mom’s voice broke through the haze. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, her touch trembling. “Sweetheart, it’s time.”

I looked at her, my lips parting to say something, anything, but no words came. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen from crying.

Behind her, Dad stood stoic, his hand resting on her back in silent support.

Grandpa Jonathan and Grandma were near the casket, their grief palpable even from where I stood.

“I…” My voice cracked, and I quickly shut my mouth.

“Take your time,” Dad said softly, his tone steadier than I felt.

Nikolai was at my side, his presence grounding. His hand hovered near mine, as if ready to catch me if I fell.

I forced myself forward, my feet dragging against the polished floor. The casket loomed ahead, a finality I wasn’t ready to face.

The watch. The wallet. The charred remains that everyone swore belonged to my twin.

I couldn’t do it.

I couldn’t say goodbye.

“Bran,” Mia’s voice joined the chorus of whispers around me, her tear-streaked face pleading. “He’d want you to… to say something. Please.”

I opened my mouth again, but the words stuck in my throat. My chest felt tight, my head spinning as I stared at the casket.

This wasn’t real.

But it was, wasn’t it?

The thought hit me like a wave, dragging me under. I swayed on my feet, and Nikolai’s hand gripped my arm to steady me.

“Lotus flower,” he murmured, his voice low, “you don’t have to—”

“I…” My voice came out hoarse, barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me as I stepped back. I couldn’t look at the casket anymore. Couldn’t look at them.
I felt their sorrow, their pity, but none of it reached me.

Because in that moment, I was lost.
I nodded numbly, my gaze fixed on the ground. “You’re right. He’s… he’s gone.”

The words tasted bitter, like ash on my tongue.
The whispers resumed, a soft murmur of condolences and shared grief. But inside, I was hollow.

I sat down heavily, my body numb, my mind a storm. Everyone thought I’d accepted it now. That I was in shock, too overwhelmed to process the truth.
But the truth was, I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Chapter Text

Brandon's POV

The silence in the house was oppressive, stretching out in endless waves as everyone retreated to their spaces, lost in their grief. I’d excused myself, murmured something about need to be alone, and climbed the stairs to my room.

Closing the door behind me, I stood in the center of the room, unsure of what to do next. The air felt too heavy, my thoughts too loud. The absence of Landon was suffocating.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my shaking hands. They were clammy, cold despite the warmth of the room. My chest felt tight, my breaths shallow.

He wasn’t here.

The truth was a jagged thing, cutting deeper with each passing second. The bond we shared wasn’t just a connection—it was a lifeline. And now, that lifeline felt frayed, slipping from my grasp.

I ran a hand through my hair, the anxiety bubbling over. I needed something, anything, to ground me. My gaze flickered to the window, where the rain was coming down in relentless sheets.

The grave.

The thought hit me suddenly, a pull I couldn’t resist. My twin was out there—alone. My heart clenched at the idea. I couldn’t just sit here while he was…

The rain soaked through my clothes the moment I stepped outside, but I didn’t care. My steps quickened as I crossed the yard, slipping through the gate and making my way toward the cemetery.

The storm howled around me, the wind biting against my skin. The path was slick with mud, my shoes sinking with every step, but I pressed on.

By the time I reached the grave, I was drenched, my breath coming in harsh gasps. My knees buckled, and I sank to the ground before the freshly turned earth. The headstone gleamed faintly in the dim light, his name carved into the stone like a cruel reminder.

“Landon…” My voice broke, barely audible over the rain.

The silence was unbearable, the emptiness deafening.

My fingers clenched the wet grass as I bowed my head. “I can’t do this without you. I don’t… I don’t know how.”

The storm raged on, but I stayed there, rooted to the spot. I didn’t care about the cold or the rain or the mud soaking through my clothes.

I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, mixing with the rain. “You’re not gone,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“You can’t be.”

But the silence offered no comfort, no reassurance.
Only the sound of the rain and the ache of a bond that felt irrevocably broken.

The rain continued to pour, relentless and cold, as I sat down near Landon’s grave.

My body felt heavy, as if the weight of the world had settled on my shoulders. I rested my hand on the cold, wet stone, my fingers tracing the engraved letters of his name.

“I don’t even know what to say,” I murmured, my voice trembling. The rain muffled the words, but it didn’t matter.

“I shouldn’t have to say anything because you’re supposed to be here. With me.”

The knot in my throat tightened, and I looked down at the fresh earth beneath me.

“They all keep saying you’re gone. But I don’t feel it. I don’t feel you leaving me. How can they expect me to let go when I know you’re still…somewhere?”

My vision blurred as the tears came again, mixing with the rain on my face.

“Everyone’s hurting, you know? Even Dad—he tried to hide it, but I saw it. Mom, too. But they’ll get through it because they have each other. But Mia and me?” My voice cracked, “what would we do without you.”

I leaned forward, my forehead resting on the edge of the headstone. “I don’t know how to do this without you. I don’t think I can.”

The rain softened for a moment, the storm easing, as if even the skies were exhausted by their grief. I stayed there, pouring my heart out to the silence, the cold seeping into my bones.

“I’m so tired, Lan,” I whispered. “Everything feels wrong. Like I’m stuck in this nightmare and I can’t wake up.”

The exhaustion was too much. My body betrayed me, my head dipping forward as my eyelids grew heavy. I fought to stay awake, to keep talking to him, but I couldn’t anymore. I curled up there, lying on the grave as the rain continued to fall, my eyes finally closing as I succumbed to the darkness.

---

What he didn’t see—what he couldn’t see—was the shadow that had been watching him from the moment he left the house. A figure stood just beyond the cemetery, cloaked in the cover of night and rain, unmoving but observing him.

The shadow lingered, silent and still, as if caught in a moment of indecision, before slowly retreating into the night.

Chapter Text

Nikolai’s POV

The living room was steeped in an uneasy silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fireplace. Mia sat on the couch, her head buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she struggled to hold back sobs. She had barely spoken since the funeral, her grief a tangible weight pressing down on the room.

Mom sat nearby, her hand resting on Dad’s arm. His jaw was clenched tightly as he stared at the floor, his usual calm demeanor stripped away by the heaviness of everything that had happened. Mom’s gaze kept darting toward the stairs, worry flickering in her eyes even though her face remained composed.

“I’m going to check on Bran, just to make sure he’s okay ” I said, breaking the silence. Something in my gut told me I needed to see him, to be certain.

Mia lifted her head, her tear-streaked face pale. “Please, Niko… if he’s awake, just stay with him. He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

I nodded and headed upstairs. Bran’s door was ajar, and I pushed it open quietly, expecting to find him asleep.

The bed was untouched, the blanket neatly folded. The window was open, letting in the damp chill of the evening air. A sudden wave of dread washed over me.

He wasn’t here.

I spun around and hurried downstairs, my pulse pounding. “He’s not in his room,” I announced, trying to keep my voice steady, though it came out sharper than I intended.

“What?” Mom stood instantly, her composure cracking as her worry spilled out.

Dad rose from his seat, his expression grim. “He wouldn’t just leave without telling someone. Did anyone see him go?”

“No,” Mia whispered, her voice shaky. “Why didn’t I check on him earlier?”

“We’ll search the grounds,” Dad said, already heading for the door.

Mom interjected, her voice tight. “He wouldn’t wander aimlessly. Let’s think about where he would go.”

We all split up to check the roof, terrace, garage, garden, greenhouse. Just then dad called me."we found him. He is in the garden"

When we all went out to garden, the scene was heart wrenching.

Bran stood there, drenched to the bone, his hair plastered to his forehead, his clothes soaked and clinging to his trembling frame,barely conscious. His face was pale, his lips quivering, but his eyes—they broke something in me.
They were filled with grief and exhaustion, a weight no one should bear alone.

“Bran!” I was at his side in an instant, catching him as his knees buckled.
He collapsed into my arms, his body cold as ice. “What were you thinking?” I murmured, my voice tight with emotion.

Mom was beside me in seconds, her hands helping to steady him. “He’s freezing. Get him inside now.”

Mia knelt in front of him, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Bran… where were you? We’ve all been so worried about you.”

Bran’s lips parted, his voice so faint we had to strain to hear. “I went to see my brother...”

His words silenced the room. Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, their faces etched with grief and concern. Mom’s sharp inhale didn’t go unnoticed, but she stayed quiet, her expression unreadable.

"you went to his grave? Baby,you would've asked me if you wanted to..."

"How did I get back here..."
Bran's confused voice cut me off.

Brandon appeared genuinely confused like he don't even know about his surroundings.

Before anyone could respond, Bran’s body swayed, eyes fluttered shut, and he went limp in my arms.

“I’ve got him,” I said quickly,
Mia clung to his hand as I scooped him in my arms,her tears falling freely.

“bran...” Mom said softly, Her hands lingered on his face, brushing back his damp hair with an almost maternal tenderness.

Bran might be trying to convince us of something impossible, but it was clear—he was the one who needed saving. And if no one else could pull him through this, I would.

“I’m taking him upstairs,” I said.

"I'm calling the doctor " I heard Levi.

Carrying him up to his room felt surreal. His usually warm and vibrant presence seemed almost fragile, his cold, damp body a stark reminder of how much he’d been through.

I laid him gently on the bed, the softness of the comforter doing little to ease the tight knot in my chest.

I pulled off his soaked clothes carefully, trying not to jostle him too much. His skin was icy to the touch, and I hurried to grab a clean set of warm, soft pajamas from his drawer. Once he was dressed, I tucked him under the thickest blanket I could find, hoping to chase away the chill clinging to him.

“Baby, you’re okay now,” I murmured, even though he couldn’t hear me.

The doctor arrived swiftly, his black bag in hand. He examined Bran with practiced efficiency, his face calm yet serious. After setting up an IV for hydration, he drew up a mild sedative.

“He’s restless,” Doctor said as he adjusted the IV line. “This will help him rest.”

Bran shifted slightly, his face tense, mumbling incoherent words. I leaned closer, trying to catch what he was saying, but it was fragmented. His voice cracked on one word that I could make out: “Lan...”

It was like a knife to the chest.
As the sedative took effect, his body relaxed slightly, his breathing evening out. I brushed his hair back from his forehead, the gesture automatic and soothing.

Mom appeared quietly at the doorway, her face shadowed with worry. She didn’t step in but stood there, watching us. Her expression was unreadable—there was concern, yes, but something else lingered in her eyes.

“Mom?” I asked, my voice low so as not to disturb Bran.

She shook her head. “Take care of him, Niko,” she said softly.

"Where did you find him?" I asked mom and Dad.

They shared a look. Then dad replied with his practiced ease."when me and Rai went out, he was entering through the main gate and walked into the garden."

I nodded, running my fingers through his hair without glancing up.

It felt like they knew something, like they were keeping something from us. But right now, Bran was my priority. Whatever was going on with Mom and dad could wait.

I sat beside the bed, watching over Bran as the sedative worked its way through his system. His face, even in sleep, looked troubled. I reached out, my hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

“You’re not alone, lotus flower,” I whispered, using the nickname I knew would have made him smile if he’d been awake. “I’m here. Always.”

I didn’t move from his side the entire night. Whatever Bran was fighting, I was going to make sure he didn’t face it alone.

Chapter Text

Brandon’s POV

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains, painting the room in soft, warm hues. My vision was blurry, and my head felt heavy as though weighed down by the lingering remnants of a dream—or a nightmare.

It took me a moment to realize I was in my room. The familiar scent of home surrounded me, but something was off. My body ached, my throat was dry, and there was a strange tugging sensation in my arm. As I turned my head, I noticed the IV line taped to my skin.

“Niko?” My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. I blinked, and the haze cleared enough to see him sitting at my bedside, his face a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

“You’re awake,” he said, leaning forward. His hand reached out, brushing the hair from my forehead. “How are you feeling?”

Kyle and Rai stood nearby. My Dad had one hand on Mom’s shoulder as they both watched me intently. Their expressions were unreadable, but their presence filled the room with a quiet, steady strength.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice a little stronger now.

He hesitated, glancing toward the others. Mom and Dad stood near the foot of the bed, their expressions a mirror of Niko’s—relief, worry, and something unspoken. Mia was sitting near the window, her face pale, her eyes red-rimmed as if she’d been crying. Even Grandpa and Grandma were here, standing quietly in the corner, their presence a steadying force in the chaos I felt swirling around me.

Nikolai leaned forward, his grip on my hand tightening slightly. “When You came back last night,” he said gently. “You were soaked in rain and dirt. You barely made it through the main gate before you collapsed.”

I frowned, trying to piece together the scattered fragments of memory. I remembered the rain, the grave, and the overwhelming grief. But everything after that? Blank.

“I don’t remember…” The words stuck in my throat. My gaze shifted to Kyle and Rai, who exchanged a glance—a fleeting moment of something unspoken passing between them.

Mom’s voice broke the silence. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, Baby,” she said, her tone steady but concerned. “It’s no wonder you collapsed.”

Rai stepped closer, her sharp eyes softening as they landed on me. “Do you remember anything?” she asked quietly.

I hesitated, the fog in my mind making it hard to tell. “The rain,” I admitted. “The grave. But after that…” I trailed off, shaking my head slightly.

Mia took a step forward, her arms still crossed, but her voice cracked slightly when she spoke. “You scared us, Bran."

I looked at her, the guilt settling in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, though it felt hollow.

Nikolai shifted closer, his presence grounding me. “You don’t need to apologize,” he said softly. “Just don’t shut us out anymore.”

I glanced back at Kyle and Rai. They were quiet, but their silence spoke volumes. I couldn’t shake the feeling that they knew something—something I didn’t.

But I was too tired to dwell on it. Exhaustion tugged at me, and I let my eyes drift closed again. “This nightmare isn’t over,” I murmured to no one in particular before the darkness pulled me under once more.

---

Later that Evening, everyone gathered in the living room.

The weight in the air was suffocating, an unspoken tension that settled like a storm cloud over the living room. I sat stiffly on the couch, surrounded by my family.
Nikolai was next to me, his presence grounding yet not enough to dispel the overwhelming ache in my chest. Mom and Dad sat across from me, their faces a careful mask of concern. Grandpa and Grandma were beside them, silent but watchful, while Mia sat quietly at the far end of the couch, her eyes red and puffy.

The silence was broken by Mom’s gentle yet firm voice. “Baby, we need to talk.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “About what?” I asked, though I knew exactly where this was going.

“About Landon,” Dad said, his tone steady but laced with sadness. “About how you’ve been since…”

“Since what?” I snapped, my voice sharper than intended. “Since you all decided he’s gone? That he’s never coming back?”

“Brandon,” Grandpa said softly, his deep voice calm and measured. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been holding onto this… this belief that Landon is still alive. It’s not healthy, son.”

I shook my head, my heart pounding. “It’s not a belief. It’s a fact. He’s not gone. I can feel him.”

“Sweetheart,” Grandma said gently, leaning forward. “We know how hard this is for you. Losing someone so close—it’s unimaginable. But you need to face the reality of it.”

“What reality?” I demanded, my voice rising. “The one where you all gave up on him? The one where you buried him without even questioning if it was really him?”

“Brandon,” Mia said softly, her hand on my knee. “We all miss him. We all loved him—”

“Don’t,” I interrupted, my voice breaking. “Don’t tell me to let go. You don’t understand. None of you do. He’s my twin. My other half. I would know if he were gone. I would know.”

The room fell silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air. I could feel their eyes on me, a mix of pity and worry.

“Brandon,” Mom began again, her voice trembling slightly. “We’re not asking you to forget him. We’re asking you to let yourself grieve. To let yourself feel the loss.”

I let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow and broken. “You think I haven’t grieved? You think I haven’t felt every second of this hell? But I can’t… I won’t accept something that isn’t true.”

Dad leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Brandon, we’re not your enemies here. We love you, and we want to help you. But you can’t keep living in denial. It will destroy you.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. My chest tightened, and my vision blurred with unshed tears.

“Brandon,” Mia’s voice broke through the haze, soft and trembling. “We’re all broken without him. But you’re still here. And we can’t lose you too.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and the dam I’d been holding back finally broke. The tears came suddenly, violently, sobs wracking my body as I buried my face in my hands.

“I can’t do it,” I choked out, my voice muffled. “I can’t let him go. I can’t say goodbye. It feels like… like I’m losing myself too.”

Nikolai was the first to move, pulling me into his arms and holding me tightly. “It’s okay, lotus flower,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Let it out. I’ve got you.”

I clung to him, my body shaking with the force of my grief. “I don’t know who I am without him,” I admitted, my voice raw. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Mom said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. “We’re here, Brandon. All of us. We’ll get through this together.”

For the first time, I looked around the room, really looked. At the tears in Mia’s eyes, the sorrow etched into Dad’s face, the quiet strength in Grandpa Jonathan’s gaze.

“I’m so scared,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“We’re scared too,” Mia said, her hand running soothingly through my hair. “But we’ll face it together. One step at a time.”

I nodded weakly, the fight finally leaving me. For the first time, I allowed myself to lean on them, to let their love and support in.

It didn’t feel like acceptance, not yet. But it was a start.

Chapter Text

Let me introduce myself.

I am Alexander Raiz, the man everyone whispers about but fears to name aloud. I built my empire on the ashes of those who dared to underestimate me, a lesson I learned the hard way. Once, I was nothing more than a shadow in the grand games played by the powerful—their pawn, their scapegoat. That ended when I carved out my own path with blood, betrayal, and brilliance.

I have no patience for weakness or incompetence. I rose to power in a world that rewards ruthlessness, and I have been unchallenged for years. Until he came along.

Landon King.

The arrogant, narcissistic genius,mind you a sculptor,who do business deals like a part-time job and turned my calculated world into chaos. At first, I underestimated him. A spoiled heir to a business empire, I thought. But he was no ordinary adversary. He meddled in my plans, destroyed alliances, and humiliated me in front of those who once feared me.

They’ve always believed they’re untouchable. The Kings and Sokolovs, an unholy alliance of wealth, power, and influence that spans continents. The Kings with their business empire, lording over markets and industries. The Sokolovs with their iron grip on the underworld, their name whispered in fear across borders.

So I established strong connections in the business world as well as underground world. Formed strong alliances with my enemy's enemy.
You know the saying__your enemy's enemy is your friend.

My original plan was simple: break Landon King. Destroy his carefully constructed world and watch him crumble under the weight of his own arrogance.

I started with subtlety— First, the art studio and then the glass shattering? A reminder that nowhere, not even his precious sanctuaries, was safe. But he kept surviving like a damn cockroach, defying every move I made with that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face.

Then came the snowboarding incident. A perfectly laid plan, or so I thought. The idea was simple—get Landon to suffer an "accident" that would leave him incapacitated, a shell of his former self. But instead of Landon, it was his twin brother, Brandon King, who got hurt.

And that’s when I saw it—the cracks.

Landon King, the unshakable force, was reduced to a man on the verge of madness. His twin’s pain shattered that cold, impenetrable armor.

And it wasn’t just Landon.

Nikolai Sokolov, the Russian mafia heir, was equally unhinged. They both fell apart over Brandon’s injury, their obsession with him laying bare their greatest weakness.

That’s when I realized my mistake.

Landon King isn’t the key to their destruction. Brandon is.

The boy who keeps the Kings grounded. The boy who softens the sharp edges of Nikolai Sokolov and brings light to that dark family. The boy Landon would burn the world to protect.

The perfect keystone.

He’s their anchor, their moral compass, their reason for sanity. Without him, they’re nothing more than loose cannons, capable of imploding on their own.

Brandon’s injury wasn’t part of my plan, but it revealed the truth. To destroy Landon King—and Nikolai Sokolov by extension—I don’t need to target them directly. I just need to sever their connection to Brandon.

From that moment, my strategy shifted. Every move I make now is calculated to remove Brandon King from the equation. Not with brute force or public theatrics. No, that’s too easy. I will break them where it hurts most—slowly, insidiously, and with precision.

This isn’t about revenge anymore. It’s about power, control, and the satisfaction of watching those who thought themselves untouchable fall to their knees.

Because without Brandon, there will be no Landon and Nikolai, without these two ,there will be no Kings and Sokolovs.

It's like killing many birds with one stone.

Brandon King doesn’t know it yet, but he is mine. And through him, I will bring the Kings and the Sokolovs to their knees.

But plans, no matter how intricately designed, often fall prey to the unpredictable nature of chaos. I had set my sights on Brandon King, the boy who was the very axis of Landon King’s fragile sanity. Taking him down would have been an art—a blow so precise it would shatter the foundation of the King family and send ripples across the Sokolov dynasty.

But fate intervened in a way even I could not have foreseen and handed me Landon’s death.

The car, the body, the wreckage—it was too perfect. I didn’t even have to lift a finger. I watched from the shadows as their world collapsed.

The accident. A tragedy of its own making. Landon King, presumed dead. I cannot take credit for it, though I wish I could. If I had orchestrated it, it would have been cleaner, more symbolic. But as much as I revel in control, this incident was entirely out of my hands.
And yet, it has thrown my plans into disarray.

Brandon King, already the delicate thread holding the unhinged psyches of Landon and Nikolai together, now walks a fine line between grief and denial. His twin's supposed death has left him vulnerable—ripe for the taking—but it has also robbed me of the satisfaction of striking at the heart of their strength.

The family is fractured. They’re scrambling to hold themselves together, each of them consumed by their own grief and guilt. Even Rai Sokolov, the ever-poised matriarch, wears the strain in her eyes.The Kings tried to move forward, but it was Brandon who suffered the most.

Grief eats away at him like acid, hollowing him out. And yet, he still clings to the idea that Landon is alive.
Let him. Hope is a cruel thing, after all.

But now, I must be patient. With Landon gone, the family is fractured, but not enough. Not yet. They still have Brandon, their light, their heart. My greatest pleasure will be extinguishing that light.

For now, I wait. I watch.

It would be easy to move now, to strike while they’re weak. But that’s not my style.

I am a predator, yes, but a patient one.

To crush them now, when they are already down, would be too simple. Too unsatisfying. No, I want to see them rebuild. I want to see Brandon King rise again, pulling his family together with that quiet strength of his.

My plan isn’t ruined; it’s simply delayed.
For now, I watch. I let them grieve, heal, and rebuild. I let them believe they’re safe, that the storm has passed. And when they least expect it, I will show them the true meaning of loss.

A soft knock at the door broke the silence. Without turning, I said, “Come in.”

The door opened silently, and a figure stepped inside — Kai, my right hand. Who I had planted in kings-Sokolovs estate.
Clad in black, he moved with the stealth of a shadow, his sharp eyes focused solely on me.

“They’re beginning to recover,” Kai reported, his voice low. “The boy is no longer in denial, and the Sokolovs are watching closely. They’re starting to fortify.”

I smirked, swirling the amber liquid in the glass. “Good. Let them build themselves back up. The higher they rise, the harder they’ll fall.”

Kai stepped closer, his tone shifting to a whisper. “You’re certain this next step will work?”

“I didn’t come this far to fail,” I replied, my voice cold and steady. “The first wave was merely a distraction. I needed to test their resilience. Now I know their weaknesses — their faith in each other, their fragile bonds.”

He stood, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the room. “We’ll strike where they least expect. The plan is already in motion, and when it’s executed, there will be no escape.”

Kai nodded, his loyalty evident in his every move. “What are my orders?”

“For now,” I said, my smile sharp as a blade, “keep your cover. The Kings and Sokolovs must suspect nothing. When the time comes, you’ll deliver the final blow. Until then, we wait.”

Kai hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “And the boy? He’s stronger than anticipated. Are you sure he’s still the key?”

My smirk widened. “Oh, he’s not just the key. He’s the lock, the door, and everything beyond it. Landon may have been my original target, but Brandon is the one who holds their world together. Break him, and the rest will collapse like dominoes.”

Kai bowed his head, acknowledging the command. “Understood.”

As Kai slipped out of the room, I drained the last of my drink and stared at Brandon’s photograph. “Enjoy your fleeting peace, little King,” I murmured. “It’s the calm before the storm.”

Chapter Text

Brandon's room was still, the weight of his earlier breakdown settling over the space like a heavy fog. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows on the walls, illuminating the picture frame he clutched in his hands.

The photo within it was simple yet profound—a snapshot of twin brothers, identical in every way except for the emotions they wore. Landon’s smirk was sharp and self-assured, while Brandon’s smile was soft, almost shy. The contrast was their essence, captured forever in this frame.

Brandon traced his fingers over the glass, his touch lingering as though it could bridge the unbearable gap between the past and the present. "I miss you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, breaking under the weight of his grief.

With a deep, shaky breath, he placed the frame on his bedside table. The golden edge caught the lamplight, glinting like a faint, cruel reminder of the person who was no longer there.

Exhaustion weighed him down as he sank into the mattress. Sleep came unbidden, pulling him into its grasp, his last sight the picture of Landon still visible from the corner of his eye.

The night outside was silent, the rain having long since ceased, leaving only the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of the balcony door swinging slightly ajar.

A shadow moved.

It stepped into the room from the balcony, its presence quiet, deliberate.

The figure remained close to the darkness, its movements precise and practiced. They stood there for a moment, watching Brandon as he slept, his body curled slightly toward the picture frame, his features still tense even in rest.

The figure’s gaze flickered to the photograph on the table, the faintest trace of emotion breaking through their composed demeanor.

Brandon stirred, his lips parting to mumble something incoherent, a soft, vulnerable sound that filled the otherwise silent room. The shadow didn’t move, as though waiting to ensure he remained asleep.

Then, slowly, they stepped closer, their presence now just on the edge of the lamplight. For a long moment, they stood there, watching him, their expression unreadable.

Brandon shifted in his sleep, his brow furrowing as though even his dreams couldn’t shield him from the weight of his grief. The shadow hesitated, caught between remaining unseen and the undeniable pull to act.

Stepping closer, the figure crossed the small distance to Brandon’s bedside. For a moment, they lingered, gaze fixed on his pale face, his breathing uneven even in rest.

The figure reached out, a gloved hand brushing against the soft fabric of the blanket. With deliberate care, they adjusted it, pulling it higher to cover his shoulders, ensuring he was shielded from the chill of the night.

Hand hovered, hesitating just above his head before finally descending. Fingers ruffled his hair gently, a motion that was equal parts affection and familiarity.

The touch was fleeting, almost imperceptible, as though they feared disturbing him.

The shadow stood there, silent, watching him settle back into stillness.

A faint exhale escaped from him—a sound of restrained emotion or quiet resolve. They stepped back, their presence retreating as silently as it had entered.

The balcony door creaked once more as the figure disappeared into the darkness, the faint scent of smoke lingering in their wake.

Brandon stirred slightly, his hand unconsciously reaching for the edge of the blanket, pulling it closer around himself.

The night returned to its quiet vigil, but a subtle shift had taken place, a whisper of something unseen yet profoundly felt.

Chapter Text

The wind was cold on the balcony, but I didn’t feel it. My eyes stayed on him—on Brandon. Even in his sleep, his face was etched with sorrow, the faint lines of pain that should never have been there. He looked so small, so fragile.

I leaned against the glass door, hands stuffed into my coat pockets, keeping my breath silent. Watching him like this…it was torment and solace at the same time.

He shifted, murmuring something I couldn’t make out. The sound tugged at me, harder than I’d expected. It wasn’t often that Brandon let himself be vulnerable, and now he was forced to do it alone.

I stepped closer, as silent as a shadow. The blanket had slipped off one shoulder, and I adjusted it gently, making sure he was warm. His hair was messy, and I couldn’t resist ruffling it softly. He stirred but didn’t wake, settling instead into a deeper sleep.

For a fleeting moment, I considered staying. Sitting by his bedside ,But I couldn’t. I’d already stayed too long.

I straightened, retreating to the balcony. My chest ached, but I forced the feeling down. This was for him. For all of them.

The night swallowed me as I stepped back into the shadows, my coat billowing in the wind. The estate was quiet as I slipped away, the distant hum of the city the only sound accompanying me.

By the time I reached my secluded property, the storm had picked up. Rain lashed against the windows as I locked the door behind me. The place was nothing like home—cold, sterile, and purposefully isolated. Just the way I needed it to be.

I tossed my coat onto the back of a chair and poured myself a drink. The amber liquid swirled in the glass, my reflection in the dark content of the glass stared back at me took me back to my mirror image, my twin, my other half, lying there in a cocoon of grief that I had caused.

Yes! I'm alive.

But I would've been better dead than to witness the most important people of my life to suffer because of me.

Faking my death hadn’t been easy. The planning, the execution, the aftermath—it had taken weeks. But I’d done it. And now, watching my family suffer for it, I wasn’t sure it had been worth it.

I slammed the glass down onto the table, the sound shattering the silence.They couldn’t know yet. Not until it was safe. Not until I was sure.

“It’s for them,” I muttered, the words more for myself than anyone else.
But even as I said it, I felt the weight of the lie.

Because the truth was, it wasn’t just for them. It was for me too. For the secrets I’d uncovered, for the enemies circling closer every day. For the battle I knew was coming.

I stared out into the darkness beyond the window.I ran a hand through my hair, sighing as I sat down heavily in the chair. Brandon’s face flashed in my mind, his quiet resolve, his unwavering belief that I wasn’t gone.
He was right, of course. He always was. But he couldn’t know. Not yet.

Before heading to Brandon’s room, I’d been to another place—Mia’s.

She was awake, curled up under a cascade of blankets, her face soft in the moonlight. Watching her felt like punishment and penance rolled into one. She didn’t know I was alive. None of them did. But she looked peaceful, free of the storm I had left behind.

I lingered there longer than I should have, standing in the shadows by the window. For a brief moment, I imagined stepping closer if she was asleep, brushing a strand of hair from her face, whispering my apologies. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

I leaned back in the chair, the amber liquid swirling in the glass I held. The fire cracked and popped in front of me, the sound sharp in the otherwise oppressive silence. The isolation here was absolute—just how I needed it. My sanctuary, my prison, my stage for plotting.

The rain had stopped outside, leaving the world damp and silent. But my mind was anything but quiet. It roared, relentless, dragging me back to the moment when I set this game into motion.

I still remember walking into the study that night, anger and purpose fueling every step. The snowboarding incident had been the last straw, and I needed answers. I wasn’t leaving without them.

(FLASHBACK TO SNOWBOARDING INCIDENT)

Rai and Kyle were waiting in the study, like they already knew I was coming.

Typical.

The Sokolovs were never caught off guard. They were like a pair of panthers, sleek and deadly, watching every movement with sharp, calculating eyes.
“I know,” I said the moment the heavy doors shut behind me.

Rai arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “What exactly do you know, Landon?”

Her calm grated on my nerves. I stepped closer, the tension in my body coiled like a spring. “The glass. The art studio. Someone is targeting me. And I’m not playing blind anymore. Tell me what you know.”

Kyle tilted his head, sharing a look with Rai. It was one of those silent exchanges they had perfected, the kind that spoke volumes without a single word.

Finally, Rai sighed, her voice softer than I expected but laced with steel. “We suspected as much.”

My jaw clenched. “You suspected? And you didn’t think to tell me?”

Kyle leaned forward in his chair, his voice calm, measured. “We needed more than suspicions. After the first incident, we started investigating. And we found something—someone. Alexander Raiz.”

“Alexander Raiz.” I repeated the name slowly, tasting the venom in it. “And who the hell is that?”

Kyle’s lips twitched into a humorless smile. “A man who blames your family for his downfall. He was on the rise in Europe’s businessworld until a series of strategic business moves from the Kings crushed him. He’s been nursing a grudge ever since.”

Rai picked up where Kyle left off. “He’s calculated, Landon. He’s been testing you. Pushing to see how much you can take before you snap.”

I felt the anger boil beneath my skin, my fists clenching at my sides. “And the snowboarding incident? Was that him?”

“No,” Rai admitted, her voice soft. “That wasn’t intentional. He didn’t mean to hurt Brandon. His focus has been entirely on you.”

Brandon.

The name sent a pang through my chest. My twin, my other half, dragged into this mess because of me. Because someone thought they could hurt him to get to me.

I forced the anger down, replacing it with icy resolve. “He won’t stop,” I said. “Not until he thinks he’s won. Until he thinks he’s taken everything from me.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “What are you planning, Landon?”

I looked at both of them, my voice cold and steady. “I’m going to give him what he wants. I’m going to die.”

(END OF FLASHBACK)

The drink burned as it went down, bringing me back to the present. I stared into the fire, the edges of my vision flickering with the dancing flames.

Rai and Kyle had helped me make it happen. They’d found a body, staged the crash, and played their parts to perfection. Alexander thought I was dead. The world thought I was dead.
But I wasn’t. Not yet.

I set the glass down, leaning forward, my elbows on my knees. My family was grieving.Mia was heartbroken. Brandon was breaking. And Alexander Raiz thought he’d won.

Let him think that. Let him bask in his false victory.
Because I wasn’t done yet.
Not even close.

---

I stared at the fire, the golden flames flickering in the dimly lit room. The silence around me felt heavy, broken only by the occasional creak of the old property. My glass rested forgotten on the table, the amber liquid within untouched as memories consumed me.

Brandon.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. The disbelief, the anger, the hurt. The way he’d looked at me those last few days before the accident. He hadn’t known what I was planning, but he knew something was wrong. He always knew.

The days leading up to it were etched into my mind, vivid and raw.

“You’re acting strange,” he’d said one night, cornering me in the studio. His voice had been soft but probing, his eyes piercing as they searched mine.

I’d shrugged, deflecting like I always did. “Strange? Me? You must be imagining things, Bran.”

He didn’t smile. That was how I knew he was serious. Brandon always smiled, always found the light in things. But not then.

“You’ve been distracted,” he insisted.

“Distant. Like you’re carrying something you’re not telling me.”

I’d turned away, unable to meet his gaze. “You’re overthinking. I’m fine.”

A blatant lie, but what else could I say? How could I tell him I was planning my own death? That I was about to tear us apart for a reason I couldn’t fully explain?

He didn’t believe me, of course. He never did when it came to things like this. But he let it slide, probably thinking I’d come around eventually.

Then there was that morning—the last one we’d spent together.

He’d found me in the library, a mug of coffee in his hands and a teasing grin on his face. “Since when do you wake up before me?”

I’d chuckled, trying to act normal. “Since today, apparently.”

He’d plopped down beside me, resting his head on my shoulder like he always did. The comfort of it had been almost too much to bear.

“You’re not leaving today, right?” he’d asked casually, though there was an edge to his voice.

I’d paused, my heart clenching. “No,” I lied. “Not today.”

We’d sat there for hours, talking about nothing and everything. He’d shown me some sketches he’d been working on, rambling about colors and shapes and meanings. I’d listened, soaking in every word, every expression.

And all the while, guilt had clawed at me.

Now, sitting here in this empty room, the weight of it all crashed over me again. Brandon’s face, his voice, his trust—it haunted me. I’d torn us apart to save him, but at what cost?

I ran a hand through my hair, leaning back with a heavy sigh. The plan had been necessary, I reminded myself. It had to be done. Alexander Raiz wasn’t just a threat to me; he was a threat to everyone I cared about.

But that didn’t make it easier.

I’d failed him as brother in so many ways.but I’d make it right.
Somehow.

This was the price of my plan—a pain I couldn’t soothe, a silence I couldn’t break.

I let out a slow breath, setting the glass down as a presence tugged at the edges of my awareness.

Guests.

I didn’t have to look to know who they were. The weight of their stares pressed on me even before I turned toward the darkened doorway. I smiled bitterly, settling back into my chair.

“Hello, Sokolovs,” I drawled, letting the silence stretch.

Rai stepped into the light first, her expression as unreadable as ever. Kyle followed, his sharp eyes scanning the room before landing on me. They stood there, poised and calm, but I could see the weight of what they carried in the set of their shoulders.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” Rai remarked, her voice smooth but laced with steel.

I chuckled, a low sound that didn’t reach my eyes. “As comfortable as a dead man can be.”

Kyle’s lips twitched—half amusement, half something else. “You always did have a flair for the dramatic, Landon.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “And you two always had a knack for showing up uninvited. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Rai’s gaze pinned me, sharp and unyielding. “You’ve been sloppy.”

I raised a brow, my grin turning sharper. “Sloppy? I thought I orchestrated my death rather beautifully.”

She didn’t laugh. Neither did Kyle.
Rai’s sharp eyes narrowed further, her fingers tapping once against the chair she leaned on. “So it was you,” she said, voice cool and cutting. “You carried Brandon back home from the cemetery.”

Kyle folded his arms, his stance tense but measured. “And here I thought we agreed you would keep your distance. Explain yourself, Landon.”

I leaned back in my chair, dragging a hand through my hair as I let out a low sigh. “What do you want me to say? That I should’ve stayed away? That I should’ve let him pass out in the rain on my 'supposed' grave?” My voice grew sharper, cutting through the room like a blade.

“Yes! and we had to lied to everyone that we found him in the garden but it was you who got him there. That's why he was so confused about his surroundings when gained his senses.” Rai said.

“Every time you step closer, you risk everything we’ve worked for. Do you want Brandon to figure it out? To put himself in danger because of your reckless sentiment?” Kyle added.

My jaw tightened, the guilt I’d been shoving down rising to the surface. “You weren’t there,” I shot back, my voice strained. “You didn’t see him. He was shaking like a leaf, soaked to the bone, barely holding on. How was I supposed to ignore that?”

Rai’s gaze softened. “You weren’t supposed to be there in the first place.”

“I’ve been checking on both of them. I needed to see for myself…to make sure they’re holding up.”

Rai’s laugh was humorless, sharp as a whip. “Holding up? You’ve been haunting them like a ghost, Landon. You’re not helping. You’re making it worse.”

“I’m not trying to make it worse,” I snapped, standing abruptly. “I just…” My voice faltered, and for a moment, I couldn’t find the words.

Kyle’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “You’re unraveling, Landon,” he said quietly. “You think you’re in control, but you’re not. This plan—it’s tearing you apart.”

I turned away, my hands gripping the back of my chair tightly. “I can’t just stop caring,” I said, my voice low and strained. “Not about them. Not about Bran.”

“And that’s exactly why you need to be careful,” Rai said, stepping closer. “If you’re not, you’ll ruin everything. For you, for Brandon, for Mia—for all of us.”

I exhaled shakily, the weight of her words pressing down on me. She was right. They were both right. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier.

“I’ll do better,” I said finally, my voice quiet but resolute. “I’ll be more careful.”

Rai studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she nodded. “See that you do.”

Kyle placed a hand on my shoulder briefly—a rare gesture of reassurance. “We’re not against you, Landon. But you need to think about the bigger picture.”

“You’re not invincible, no matter how much you think you are. Sooner or later, this will catch up to you.” Rai said.

I let out a hollow laugh, leaning back. “It already has.”

As they turned to leave, I sank back into my chair, the room suddenly feeling too quiet. Their words lingered, a reminder of the delicate line I was walking.

I let out a slow breath, my gaze drifting to the drink I’d abandoned earlier. The guilt, the grief, the weight of everything—it was suffocating.

But I’d made my choice, and I wasn’t about to turn back now.

As the door clicked shut behind Rai and Kyle, the silence in the room was deafening. I sat there for a long moment, my head resting in my hands, trying to steady the storm brewing inside me.
They were right—I knew they were.

Every time I went back, every time I got too close, I risked undoing everything. But how could I stay away?

Brandon’s face flashed in my mind, pale and fragile, his shoulders shaking as he stood in the rain, refusing to let go of me—even when he thought I was gone. The pain in his eyes wasn’t something I could forget, no matter how hard I tried.

And Mia—God, Mia. Her grief was quieter, more controlled, but just as raw. I’d watched her in the dead of night, her hand resting on the engagement ring she still wore. She hadn’t taken it off, not once.

They were falling apart, both of them. And I was supposed to just watch from the shadows? Pretend I didn’t care?
I stood abruptly, pacing the room as my thoughts spiraled. Maybe Rai and Kyle were right—maybe I wasn’t as in control as I thought. But how could they expect me to sit back and do nothing?

I stopped in front of the window, looking out at the dark, empty property that had become my prison. It was ironic, really. I’d planned my own death to give them peace, to protect them. But now, it felt like I was the one drowning.

My mind drifted back to the night of the accident. It had been a calculated risk, every detail meticulously planned. The timing, the location, even the burned body that had been switched in—Rai and Kyle had made sure of it.

But none of that had prepared me for what came after. For the way Brandon had shattered. For the way Mia had retreated into herself. For the way I’d felt like I was watching my own funeral from the sidelines.

I poured another drink, my hands trembling slightly as I lifted the glass. The burn of the alcohol did little to numb the ache in my chest.

I couldn’t keep doing this. Something had to change.But what?

A soft knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned sharply, my heart racing, but relaxed slightly when I saw Kyle step inside.

“Still brooding, I see,” he said, closing the door behind him.

I huffed a humorless laugh. “And you are still here. Well what gave it away?”

Kyle crossed the room, his gaze steady. “You’ve always been good at playing the long game, Landon. But this isn’t a game anymore. These are real people, real lives. And if you keep this up, you’re going to lose yourself.”

I didn’t respond, my jaw tightening as I stared at the floor.

Kyle sighed, his tone softening. “Look, I know this is hard. But you need to trust that they’ll find their way through this. You can’t carry all of it on your shoulders.”

“I don’t want to carry it,” I said quietly, my voice breaking slightly. “But I can’t just let it go, either.”

Kyle didn’t say anything, but his expression softened, a flicker of understanding in his eyes.

“I’ll figure it out,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “I always do.”

Kyle nodded, but the doubt in his eyes lingered as he turned to leave.

As the door closed behind him, I sank back into the chair, the weight of everything pressing down on me once more.

I didn’t know how this would end. But one thing was certain: I wasn’t done yet.
.
.
.

The room was dark, save for the faint glow of a single lamp casting long shadows over the walls. Alexander Raiz sat at his desk, a glass of whiskey in his hand, as he studied the files spread out before him. Every photograph, every document, every name was meticulously detailed — the Kings, the Sokolovs, and most importantly, Brandon King.

A soft knock at the door broke his concentration. Without turning, Alexander said, “Come in.”

The door opened silently, and a figure stepped inside — Kai. Clad in black, he moved with the stealth of a shadow, his sharp eyes focused solely on Alexander.

“They’re beginning to recover,” Kai reported, his voice low. “The King boy is no longer falling apart, and the Sokolovs are watching closely. They’re starting to fortify.”

Alexander smirked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Good. Let them build themselves back up. The higher they rise, the harder they’ll fall.”

Kai stepped closer, his tone shifting to a whisper. “You’re certain this next step will work?”

“I didn’t come this far to fail,” Alexander replied, his voice cold and steady. “The first wave was merely a distraction. I needed to test their resilience. Now I know their weaknesses — their faith in each other, their fragile bonds.”

He stood, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over the room. “We’ll strike where they least expect. The plan is already in motion, and when it’s executed, there will be no escape.”

Kai nodded, his loyalty evident in his every move. “What are my orders?”

“For now,” Alexander said, his smile sharp as a blade, “keep your cover. The Kings and Sokolovs must suspect nothing. When the time comes, you’ll deliver the final blow. Until then, we wait.”

Kai hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “And the King boy? He’s stronger than anticipated. Are you sure he’s still the key?”

Alexander’s smirk widened. “Oh, he’s not just the key. He’s the lock, the door, and everything beyond it. Landon may have been my original target, but Brandon is the one who holds their world together. Break him, and the rest will collapse like dominoes.”

Kai bowed his head, acknowledging the command. “Understood.”

As Kai slipped out of the room, Alexander drained the last of his drink and stared at Brandon’s photograph. “Enjoy your fleeting peace, little King,” he murmured. “It’s the calm before the storm.”

Chapter Text

People were gathered in a magnificent hall Which was bathed in the soft golden glow and eye catching interior.
As the crowd chattered, Alexander’s dark eyes scanned the room. His lips curved into a faint, predatory smile when Brandon King entered. The young man’s gentle demeanor was a stark contrast to the ruthless Kings Alexander had studied. Brandon carried himself with a quiet confidence, his soft smile disarming, his presence almost angelic.

"Naïve," Alexander murmured under his breath. "Perfect."

His plan was meticulous. Invitations had been sent anonymously through a reputable charity organization. The cause was something Brandon couldn’t resist.

'For children health and benefits '

Alexander had ensured his role in the event was hidden, appearing only as a significant donor under an alias.

---

(Earlier that morning)

The estate was unusually tense. The faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the crisp air of concern that seemed to seep into every corner of the grand dining room. Brandon sat at the table, toying with the edge of his napkin as his family discussed his decision to attend a charity event that following evening.

“It’s not about the event being anonymous,” Astrid said, her voice steady yet laced with worry. “We’ve vetted the charity. It’s legitimate. But…Bran, do you really have to go?”

Brandon looked up, his gaze soft but resolute. “It’s for a good cause, Mom. You know how much this means to me.”

Levi set down his newspaper with a quiet sigh, his sharp eyes fixed on his youngest son. “You’ve been pushing yourself too much lately. Maybe it’s time to take a step back, just for a little while.”

“I’m fine,” Brandon insisted, though his voice lacked the conviction to truly put their minds at ease. “Really. This will be good for me. It’s just a few hours.”

Across the table, Nikolai sat silently, his jaw tight as he listened. He wanted to speak, to tell Brandon not to go, but he knew better than to smother him. Brandon’s independence was one of the things he admired most, even if it sometimes left him on edge.

Mia reached out, placing a gentle hand over Brandon’s. “Bran, we’re just worried. You’ve been through so much lately. No one would blame you for taking a break.”

Brandon smiled at her, his gratitude evident. “I know you’re all worried. But I’ll be fine. I promise.”

The conversation ended with reluctant acceptance, though the unease lingered. As Brandon left the room to prepare, Nikolai followed him to the entryway, watching him shrug on his jacket.

“Wait,” Nikolai said suddenly, stepping forward. He slipped their engagement ring on Brandon’s ring finger.

Brandon gave him a curious look. “Where did you find this? I've been going crazy looking for it since morning.”

“I found it on kitchen counter” Nikolai replied with a simple shrug, masking his true intention." Take care of your self and be careful "

Brandon gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, baby. Dont worry, I'll be alright.”

“I know” Nikolai said, his smile fading as Brandon turned to leave. “But just in case, I’ll find you if I need to.”

---

Later that evening, Brandon arrived at the event, his unease fading as he stepped into the lavishly decorated ballroom. The warmth of the crowd and the purpose of the evening reminded him why he was there. He mingled with ease, his natural charm drawing people in as he spoke about the importance of the cause.

It was then that a man approached him, his presence unassuming yet commanding.

“Mr. King,” the man said, extending a hand with a polite smile. “I’m Alex Rothschild, one of the event’s donors.”

Brandon turned, his smile brightening as he shook the man’s hand. “Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Rothschild. It’s donors like you who make events like this possible.”

Alexander Raiz hid his satisfaction behind a mask of sincerity. Everything was going according to plan. “I’ve heard a lot about your work, Mr. King,” he said smoothly. “Your dedication is admirable. Would you mind if I introduced you to a few other donors?”

Brandon hesitated briefly, but the man’s demeanor put him at ease. “Of course,” he said, following Alexander into the crowd.

Over the next hour, Alexander engaged Brandon in conversation, slowly drawing him into his web. He didn’t push or rush, knowing that trust was built incrementally.

“You know,” Alexander said casually as they stood near the balcony overlooking the city, “it’s rare to meet someone so genuine. Most people in these circles are…let’s say, less altruistic.”

Brandon laughed softly. “That’s kind of you to say. I just believe we all have a responsibility to help.”

Alexander tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “And does your family share that belief?”

Brandon’s expression faltered slightly. “They’re…supportive in their own ways.”

“Of course,” Alexander said quickly, masking his satisfaction. The cracks in Brandon’s armor were starting to show.

What neither man noticed was a silent observer on the other side of the room. A figure cloaked in anonymity, blending into the crowd, watched the exchange with cold calculation.
This wasn’t part of the plan.
Alexander was confident his trap was perfect, but he hadn’t accounted for Landon King.
.
.
.
The evening took a darker turn under the dim lights of the ballroom. Brandon stood at the balcony with Alexander, his smile faint but genuine as he spoke about the importance of charity work. The cool night breeze kissed his skin, but something felt…off. His vision blurred momentarily, and he blinked rapidly, trying to focus.

“You seem a little pale, Mr. King,” Alexander remarked casually, his tone feigning concern.

“I’m fine,” Brandon replied, though his voice was weaker than before.

Alexander offered a small smile, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he glanced at Brandon’s half-empty glass on the railing. “Perhaps the air isn’t agreeing with you. Would you like some water?”

“No, I’ll be okay,” Brandon insisted, but even as the words left his lips, he felt his stomach churn, his limbs growing heavy. His hand gripped the railing tighter to steady himself.

In the shadows of the ballroom, hidden behind a large decorative column, Landon King’s sharp eyes never left his twin. He’d been watching Brandon since he arrived, unable to resist the pull of ensuring his safety. And now, he noticed the slight tremor in Brandon’s hand, the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the way he swayed ever so slightly as if the ground beneath him were tilting.

Landon’s jaw clenched, his stormy gaze narrowing on the man beside his brother. The man was talking, smiling, his body language calm and composed—but there was something calculated about his every move.

Brandon exhaled shakily, forcing a polite smile. “Excuse me,” he said, stepping away from the balcony. “I just need to freshen up for a moment.”

“Of course,” Alexander said, his voice smooth. “Take your time.”

As Brandon tried to leave hurriedly, he couldn’t see the other man, who he thought was a saint was helping children, was smirking at his misery.

Chapter Text

Landon’s POV

I had been watching my brother all night, tucked away in the shadows where I belong now.

Brandon looked beautiful as always—too beautiful for a world that keeps trying to crush him.

The way he smiled, polite and genuine, even at strangers, even at wolves like the one he stood with tonight. That man…

Alexander Raiz.
I recognized him instantly, even in his carefully tailored suit and with that mask of charm he wore.

I knew what he was capable of. I knew what he wanted. And tonight, I wasn’t going to let him have it.

Brandon was holding a glass, sipping it casually as he spoke. I should’ve noticed sooner, the way Alexander hovered, the way his eyes lingered on my brother like a predator watching prey.

But I wasn’t quick enough.

When Bran’s fingers trembled around the glass, when his body swayed just enough to set my instincts on fire, I realized the bastard had already made his move.

Brandon excused himself, stumbling slightly as he made his way toward the restrooms. I followed him, silent and unseen, my eyes locked on him like he was the only thing that mattered in the room. Because he was.

By the time he reached the hallway, he was barely holding on. His legs gave out, and I moved faster than I’ve ever moved in my life. I caught him just as he crumpled, his weight collapsing into my arms.

“Got you,” I whispered, pulling him close.
His head rolled against my shoulder, his breath warm and shallow against my neck.

He mumbled something, so soft I almost didn’t hear it.

“Shh,” I told him, tightening my grip. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

He didn’t respond, his body going limp in my arms. For a moment, I just stood there, holding him. My twin. My other half. The one person in this godforsaken world who makes me want to be better, even when I know I’ll never deserve it.

I carried him through the back doors, slipping into the night like a shadow. No one noticed. They never do. It’s what I’ve trained for, what I’ve become.

I got him to my car, laid him carefully in the passenger seat, and fastened the seatbelt.
His head lolled to the side, his face pale and peaceful in the faint light. Too peaceful. It made my chest ache in a way I can’t describe.

I brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, my fingers lingering there. His skin was clammy, his breathing uneven. The guilt gnawed at me, sharper than any knife.

“I won’t let them take you, baby bro,” I murmured, my voice low and fierce. “Not now. Not ever.”

I started the car and pulled away, my eyes flicking between the road and my brother. My hands gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles white as I drove.

Alexander thought he could play games with us. With him. He didn’t know who he was dealing with.

The night swallowed us as I drove deeper into the darkness, but I had never been more certain of where I was going.

The bright lights of the ballroom faded into the distance, leaving only the dark road ahead. Bran’s fragile state was a stark reminder of the precarious game being played, and I knew that from this moment on, the stakes had never been higher.

The car was silent except for the faint hum of the engine and the broken whispers coming from Brandon.

He was slumped against the seat, his head rolling to the side, his face contorted in discomfort. His hands twitched now and then, clutching at the air, and his lips moved, forming words that didn’t make sense.

Except for one.

“Lan…”

My grip on the wheel tightened every time he said it. It wasn’t just the way he called my name, like he was searching for me in the middle of a nightmare. It was the way his voice cracked, the way it broke me apart from the inside out.

“I’m here, Bran,” I said softly, glancing at him as the car sped down the deserted road. “I’m right here.”

His head turned slightly, like he was trying to find me. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy, before closing again. He mumbled something else, something I couldn’t quite catch.

“Shh,” I whispered, keeping my voice steady, even though my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

He whimpered, his body jerking slightly as if he were fighting something only he could see.

I reached out, my hand brushing against his shoulder briefly before returning to the wheel. “It’s okay,” I murmured, even though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to calm him or myself. “You don’t have to fight. I’ve got you.”

He quieted for a moment, his breathing heavy and uneven. Then, like a knife twisting in my chest, he whispered, “Lan… don’t leave me.”

I clenched my jaw, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’m not going anywhere, baby bro. I promise.”

He didn’t respond, just shifted slightly, his face tightening in pain. I hated this. Hated seeing him like this. Hated that I couldn’t take it away. But more than anything, I hated that I had to stay in the shadows, that he couldn’t know I was here.

When we reached the property, the gates opened with a quiet hiss, and I drove through, parking near the entrance. I got out and rounded the car quickly, opening the passenger door.

Brandon was still murmuring softly, his body trembling slightly as I unbuckled him and carefully pulled him into my arms. He was lighter than I remembered, his frame thinner. Guilt clawed at me again, but I shoved it down.

As I carried him inside, his head rested against my shoulder, and he let out a small sigh, almost like he knew he was safe.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered again, more to myself than to him.

I laid him down on the bed in one of the rooms, pulling the blanket up to his chin. His face was still pale, his brow damp with sweat. I grabbed a cloth, dampened it with cool water, and gently wiped his face.

He stirred slightly, his lips moving. “Lan…”

I ruffled his hair lightly, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. “Sleep, Bran. You’re safe.”

As I sat there, watching over him, I couldn’t shake the thought that this wasn’t enough. Protecting him from the shadows, keeping him in the dark—it wasn’t enough. But for now, it was all I could do.

And I’d do it a thousand times over if it meant keeping him safe.

For a moment, I just stood there, watching him. There was a tightness in my chest that wouldn’t go away, a gnawing ache that I couldn’t shake. It didn’t matter how many enemies I took down, how many threats I neutralized—Brandon always paid the price.

I couldn’t risk waiting any longer. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Kyle first.

“It’s Landon.”

“You have some nerve,” Kyle said coolly, but his tone shifted when I cut him off.

“It’s Brandon,” I said sharply. “I need you and Rai to bring your family doctor here. Now.”

There was a beat of silence, then, “We’re on our way.”

I hung up, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My hand lingered on the back of the couch, my eyes fixed on Brandon as I tried to push the rising tide of panic back down.

Minutes ticked by. I paced the room, glancing at the door every few seconds, waiting for the Sokolovs to show up. But something felt…off. There was a tension in the air, a weight that settled over the house like a storm about to break.

And then the front door creaked open.

I froze, my muscles tensing as I turned toward the sound. It was too soon for Rai and Kyle to be here, and I hadn’t heard a car pull up.

My mind raced through the possibilities—had Alexander sent someone? Had I slipped up somewhere?

The figure that stepped through the door wasn’t Rai. It wasn’t Kyle.

And it sure as hell wasn’t who I expected.
The night had felt off from the beginning.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Chapter Text

Nikolai's POV:

I’d been restless, constantly checking Brandon’s GPS location.

yes! I have access to bran's location through GPS I had placed in our engagement ring.

After his sudden disappearance the night he went to Landon’s grave, I couldn’t shake off the fear i had to face when I realized he was missing. Now the idea of him alone at the event he insisted on attending didn’t sit right with me.

He had brushed off the family’s concerns with his usual charm, but I knew better.

Brandon was too trusting, too good. The world wasn’t kind to people like him.

When his location suddenly shifted, I couldn’t shake the unease creeping up my spine. He’d been stationary for hours at the event venue, but now he was moving—no, being moved.

I was already out the door before I realized it, my car roaring to life as I followed the GPS signal. My hands clenched the steering wheel, thoughts racing.

Something wasn’t right.

The tracker led me to a secluded property, far from where Brandon should’ve been. My gut twisted. Parking in a shadowy corner, I approached the house with quiet, measured steps.

I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

Through the slightly ajar front door, a figure moved inside—a figure I recognized instantly.

Landon.

For a moment, I froze, my mind refusing to process the sight. Landon, alive. Landon who we’d buried weeks ago. A ghost made flesh.

I pushed the door open, my heart pounding, and stepped inside.

Landon turned at the sound, his usually composed expression flickering with surprise. He recovered quickly, though, his eyes narrowing as he recognized me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice sharp.

I ignored him, my gaze darting around the room until it landed on the bed.

Brandon.

He was lying there, pale and motionless, his breaths shallow. My stomach dropped, and my chest constricted as I rushed to his side, dropping to my knees.

“What happened to him?” I demanded, my voice shaking with anger and fear.

Landon stepped closer, his voice unnervingly calm. “He was drugged. Overdosed, from the looks of it. I got to him before anyone else could.”

“You got to him?” I snapped, my head whipping around to glare at him. “You’re supposed to be dead, Landon! And now I find you here, with him like this?”

“I didn’t plan for you to find me,” he shot back, his tone flat. “But yes, I got to him. And I saved him. You’re welcome.”

My hands trembled as I cupped Brandon’s face, my heart breaking at how fragile he looked. His lips were dry, his skin clammy. I could feel the heat radiating from his body—a fever? No. A reaction to whatever poison was in his system.

“You should’ve called me,” I hissed, my voice low and dangerous.

Landon crossed his arms, his jaw tightening. “I couldn’t risk blowing my cover.”

“This isn’t about your damned cover, Landon! This is about Brandon!” I stood, towering over him.

“I know that!” he snapped, stepping closer. “That’s why I called Rai and Kyle. They’re bringing the doctor. He’ll be fine.”

My fists clenched at my sides as I struggled to keep my emotions in check. “This isn’t fine, Landon. None of this is fine.”

Landon sighed, the tension in his shoulders softening for a moment. “I know, Nikolai. Believe me, I know. But right now, the only thing that matters is getting Brandon through this.”

I glanced back at Brandon, my anger melting into worry. He looked so vulnerable, so small.

Landon’s voice softened further. “We’ll talk later. About everything. But for now, we’re on the same side.”

I nodded reluctantly, my focus shifting entirely to Brandon.Whatever was going on, whatever secrets Landon was hiding, they could wait. Brandon needed me. And I wasn’t going to let him down.

As we waited, a soft, broken sound shattered the escalating tension.
“Lan… I’m sorry…”

We froze.

On the bed, Brandon was stirring, his face pale and glistening with sweat. His words were slurred, barely above a whisper, but they hit Landon like a punch to the gut.
“Lan…please don’t… leave me…”

Landon’s eyes flickered with something i had never seen before—guilt. The sharpness in his expression softened, and he turned toward his twin.

“Bran,” Landon murmured, his voice raw and unsteady.

I watched in stunned silence as Landon moved to Brandon’s side. The Landon King i knew was calculating, sharp, and almost untouchable in his confidence. But here, with his twin writhing on the bed, Landon looked lost.

Brandon mumbled again, his voice growing weaker. “I’m sorry…”

Landon hesitated for a moment, then tentatively reached out, brushing a strand of damp hair from Brandon’s forehead. “I’m here,” he said softly, his tone stripped of its usual bravado. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The door suddenly opened, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the room. We glanced up, sharp instincts expecting the worst.

Instead, mom and dad entered, followed closely by a doctor.

The surprise in mom’s eyes was fleeting as her gaze landed on me, narrowing slightly before moving to the bed.
But neither said anything.

Mom immediately shifted her focus to Brandon, her sharp gaze assessing his condition. “What happened?” she demanded, her tone clipped and professional.

Landon, still kneeling by the bed, didn’t look up. “He was drugged. It looks like an overdose,” he said curtly. “I got him out before it could get worse.”

I had been standing frozen by the door, clenched my fists as i watched Brandon’s pale, trembling form. My anger at Landon momentarily took a backseat to the concern gnawing at me.

The doctor moved to Brandon’s side, quickly unpacking his medical bag. He checked Brandon’s pulse, his expression calm but focused.

“Will he be okay?” i asked, my voice tight.

The doctor didn’t look up. “I’ll do everything I can, but it’s good we acted quickly.”

Rai turned to me, her lips pressed into a thin line. “We’ll deal with this later,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Right now, Brandon is the priority.”

Dad, who had been quietly observing the scene, finally spoke, his voice low and measured. “And after this, we’ll be having a long conversation.”

Landon didn’t respond. His focus was entirely on Brandon, his hand resting lightly on his twin’s arm.

For now, all questions, accusations, and secrets could wait.
Brandon needed us.

---

The room was silent except for the faint sounds of Brandon’s labored breathing and the doctor’s murmurs as he checked vitals and administered treatment.

Landon hadn’t moved from his spot by the bed, his hand still resting on Brandon’s arm. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, but his expression was unreadable, his usual mask slipping into something raw and unfamiliar.

The sight of Brandon in such a vulnerable state tore at me, but the shock of seeing Landon alive still hadn’t worn off.
Questions swirled in his mind, but now wasn’t the time to demand answers.

Mom stood by the window, her sharp eyes scanning the room, ever the strategist. Her posture was stiff, her hands clasped behind her back, but her gaze softened briefly when it landed on Brandon.

Dad, on the other hand, moved closer to the bed, his calculating eyes flicking between Landon and me.

The doctor straightened, pulling off his gloves. “He’s stable,” he announced. “The drug was a powerful sedative, but thankfully, the dosage wasn’t lethal. He’ll need rest and fluids, and I’ll leave instructions for monitoring him.”

Rai gave a curt nod. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”

As the doctor packed up, Landon finally exhaled, his fingers brushing against Brandon’s arm in what seemed to be an unconscious gesture of reassurance.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. “You knew,” i said, voice low but sharp as i looked at my parents. “You knew Landon was alive this whole time.”

Mom's gaze didn’t waver as she turned to me. “Yes,” she said simply.

My fists clenched by my sides. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Or Brandon? Or Mia? Do you have any idea what—”

Landon cut him off, his voice colder than i had ever heard it. “I made the decision. Not them.”

My eyes snapped to him. “Why? Why would you put everyone through this? Do you even know what it’s done to Brandon?”

Landon finally stood, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the bed. His expression was icy, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of pain. “I know exactly what it’s done to him,” he said quietly. “Do you think this was easy for me? Watching him break and not being able to step in?”

“Then why?” i demanded, my voice rising.

“Because I had to,” Landon snapped, his calm demeanor cracking. “You don’t know what we’re dealing with, Nikolai.I needed to make sure Brandon was safe—”

“And this is your idea of safety?” i shot back, gesturing to the bed where Brandon lay pale and motionless.

“Enough,” mom interjected, her voice sharp. She stepped between the two of us, her commanding presence silencing them instantly. “This is not the time for arguments. Brandon is safe, and that’s what matters.”

Dad placed a hand on Mom’s ’s shoulder, his expression unreadable. “We’ll deal with this later. For now, Landon, I suggest you explain what happened tonight.”

Landon exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “I followed him to the event. I’ve been keeping tabs on him since… the funeral.” His voice faltered slightly at the word, but he pressed on.

“When I saw him with Raiz, I knew something was off. Then he started swaying, sweating—I knew he’d been drugged. I got him out before they could take him.”

My jaw tightened. “So you’ve been following him all this time? And who is Raiz?”

“Yes,” Landon admitted without hesitation. “And I’ll keep following him if it means keeping him safe.”

Mom exchanged a glance with dad, a silent conversation passing between them. “We’ll need to discuss our next steps,” she said. “But for now, Brandon needs rest. Nikolai, stay with him for now and then join us and you'll get your all answers.”

Landon’s gaze lingered on Brandon for a moment before he nodded. He didn’t resist as Rai and Kyle led him toward the door.

As they left, i sat down beside the bed, his hand reaching out to gently take Brandon’s. His voice was a soft whisper. “You’re going to be okay, lotus flower. I’ll make sure of it.”

Chapter Text

Landon paced the room, his fists clenched at his sides, the tension radiating off him like a storm ready to break. His glare shifted between Rai and Kyle, frustration boiling over.

“I don’t get it,” he started, his voice low but charged. “You’re the infamous Sokolovs. You hold half the criminal world in the palm of your hand. Yet you can’t take down one man? What the hell is going on?”

Rai leaned back against the armrest of a chair, her expression calm but her eyes sharp. She exchanged a glance with Kyle, who sighed and crossed his arms before speaking.

“Do you think we’re sitting on our hands, Landon?” Kyle’s tone was clipped, though not unkind. “Alexander isn’t just some lone wolf. He’s methodical. Ruthless. Over the past few years, he’s formed alliances with our rivals. Powerful ones.”

Rai interjected, her voice smooth but carrying the weight of authority. “It’s not just about Alexander anymore. It’s about the forces backing him. If we strike recklessly, we won’t just be dealing with him. We’ll spark a war—a war that will cost lives, resources, and our position. Do you want that blood on your hands?”

Landon scoffed, pacing again. “So what? You’re scared of war now? Since when did the Sokolovs cower in the face of conflict?”

Rai’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t about fear. It’s strategy. If we move too soon, we lose everything— our ability to protect our family including Mia and Brandon, which, if I’m not mistaken, is what you care about most.”

At the mention of his twin and Mia, Landon froze. The anger simmering beneath his skin didn’t dissipate, but it shifted, tempered by a reluctant understanding. He turned to face them, his gaze hard but quieter now.

“Then what’s your plan?” he asked, his voice softer but no less demanding. “How long do you expect me to sit on the sidelines while that bastard keeps scheming? While Brandon’s life hangs by a thread?”

Kyle answered, his tone measured. “We’re dismantling Alexander’s network, piece by piece. Cutting off his resources. Weakening his alliances. But these things take time, Landon. And patience is something you need to learn.”

Rai stood, her gaze unwavering. “You may not trust our methods, but you need to trust that we’re doing everything to protect our family. If you can’t do that, you’re free to walk out and handle it yourself—but I promise, you won’t last a week.”

Landon’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, the room was silent, tension hanging thick in the air. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

“Fine,” he bit out, though the anger in his voice hadn’t entirely disappeared. “But if you screw this up, if anything happens to …” He let the threat linger, his expression dark. “You’ll answer to me.”

Rai tilted her head, unimpressed. “Noted.”

Kyle stepped closer, placing a hand on Landon’s shoulder. “We’re all on the same side here, Landon. Don’t forget that.”

Landon shook off the hand and stalked toward the window, his back to them. “Let’s just hope you’re right,” he muttered, staring into the darkness beyond.
.
.
.
The room fell into silence as Nikolai stepped in, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding. Rai and Kyle turned to look at him, their guarded expressions slipping into mild surprise.

“How is he?” Rai asked, her voice softer than before.

“Brandon’s finally settled,” Nikolai replied, crossing his arms. “He’s asleep, but it wasn’t easy. He kept mumbling, tossing around.” His voice dropped, a trace of vulnerability seeping through his stoic demeanor. “He called for Landon.”

Landon stiffened at the words, his jaw tightening, but Nikolai wasn’t finished. He turned his sharp gaze to Landon, his eyes blazing. “Enough games. Enough secrets. I want the truth. All of it. Why the hell did you fake your death, Landon? Do you have any idea what you’ve put Brandon and Mia through?”

Landon exchanged a glance with the Sokolovs, his irritation bubbling up again. But before he could say anything, Rai raised a hand, silencing him with a look.

“You deserve to know,” Rai said calmly. “And we’ll tell you. But you need to sit down.”

Nikolai didn’t move. “I’m not sitting. Just talk.”

Kyle sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, while Rai launched into the explanation. As she laid out the events—the initial investigation, the threats Alexander posed, the alliances he’d forged, and the need for Landon’s staged death—Nikolai’s expression shifted from confusion to anger, his fists clenching at his sides.

When Rai finally finished, Nikolai’s voice came out low and simmering. “So, all this…this elaborate plan was your idea?” He gestured toward Landon. “And you went along with it?” He turned to Rai and Kyle.

“It wasn’t a decision made lightly,” Rai said firmly.

“And yet it was made,” Nikolai snapped. “Without considering what it would do to the people who care about him. Without considering Mia. Without considering Brandon.” His voice cracked slightly at Brandon’s name, but he masked it quickly.

Landon, for his part, met Nikolai’s glare head-on. “I did what I had to. To protect them. To protect all of you.”

Nikolai let out a bitter laugh. “And what good did it do? Brandon is a mess. Mia’s barely holding herself together. And you think this—” he gestured around the room, “—is some kind of victory?”

“It’s a mean to an end,” Kyle interjected, his voice steady but firm.

“Well, then, count me in on the end,” Nikolai said, his tone resolute. “Whatever your final plan is, I’m part of it. You’re not leaving me out of this.”

“It’s not up for debate,” Rai began, but Nikolai cut her off.

“It’s not a debate. It’s a fact,” he said, his voice cold. “Brandon is my family now. Whether you like it or not, I’m involved. And I won’t just stand on the sidelines while you gamble with his life.”

The room grew tense again, the air thick with unspoken challenges.

Nikolai’s fists clenched as Rai firmly shook her head. “No. You’re not getting involved, Nikolai. This is too dangerous.”

“You think I can just sit back and do nothing?” Nikolai’s voice was sharp, his frustration boiling over. “This is about all of us! You can’t keep me out of this!”

“You don’t understand—” Rai started, but Nikolai cut her off.

“Then make me understand!” he snapped.

“You keep saying it’s dangerous, but you’re fine sending Landon into the fire? You don’t think I have just as much at stake here? Brandon is—” His voice caught for a moment, and he took a breath, his tone softening slightly. “Brandon is everything to me. I won’t let him face this alone.”

Rai’s expression hardened. “It’s not just about you, Nikolai. It’s about keeping Brandon safe. And you getting involved will do the opposite.”

Kyle, who had been quiet up until now, stepped forward, his tone softer but no less resolute. “Niko, you’re not hearing us. This isn’t about doubting your ability or your loyalty. We know how much you care about him—hell, maybe even more than we do sometimes.”

“Then let me help!” Nikolai argued, his eyes desperate. “Let me protect him.”

Kyle placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. “Listen to me, son. It’s not about your strength or your love for him. It’s about how you lose control when it comes to Brandon. You’re not thinking straight. If anything happens to him—anything at all—you’ll go off the rails. You won’t just hurt Alexander’s plans; you might hurt yourself and him in the process.”

Nikolai’s jaw tightened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“You don’t trust me,” he muttered, his voice low but laced with bitterness.

Kyle sighed, his hand squeezing Nikolai’s shoulder. “It’s not about trust. It’s about knowing you. You’re unstoppable when it comes to protecting the people you love. But that fire? That passion? It can burn too bright, Niko. We’re not risking you losing yourself or losing him because of it.”

Rai stepped closer, her voice softer but still firm. “my little miracle, we need you to do something far more important than getting involved in our plans. We need you to stay with Brandon. Keep him safe. Support him. That’s your role in this.”

Nikolai’s head dropped for a moment, his hands trembling at his sides. When he finally looked up, his eyes were glassy, his emotions barely contained. “You’re asking me to sit back and watch while you fight this war?”

“No,” Rai said gently. “We’re asking you to fight a different kind of war. The one where you’re Brandon’s anchor. The one where you make sure he doesn’t break while we deal with Alexander.”

Kyle added, his voice steady, “You’re not out of this fight, son. You’re just in a different position. And it’s just as important, if not more.”

Nikolai’s shoulders slumped, the tension easing slightly as he let their words sink in. He didn’t like it—he hated it, actually—but deep down, he understood.

“Fine,” he muttered reluctantly. “But if anything happens to him, or if you need me, you call me. No secrets.”

Rai and Kyle exchanged a glance before nodding in unison.

“No secrets,” Kyle promised.
.
.
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Landon’s attention wavered as the conversation wound down. Though he nodded along with Rai’s words about the necessity of precision and patience, his thoughts were elsewhere—specifically with the fragile figure of his twin upstairs.

The way Brandon had clutched at his shirt in his delirium, murmuring apologies and begging him not to leave, lingered in Landon’s mind like a physical ache.

Kyle noticed it. His son in law was many things—brilliant, ruthless, narcissistic—but when it came to Brandon, Landon was almost painfully transparent.
Kyle’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the subtle twitch of Landon’s fingers, the way his jaw tightened as though he were restraining himself from bolting upstairs.

Clearing his throat, Kyle spoke in a tone of practiced nonchalance. “You’ve done what you can for now, Landon. And Rai and I will handle the rest of this planning. But perhaps,” he paused, pretending to consider his next words carefully, “it wouldn’t hurt to check on Brandon. Make sure he’s still asleep. And… leave before he wakes.”

Landon’s head snapped up, his gaze narrowing. For a moment, he almost looked offended, as though Kyle had just accused him of something unthinkable. But then his expression softened.
“You don’t have to tell me what to do.” Landon muttered,but he was already standing.

Rai arched an eyebrow as she watched him stride toward the staircase with an air of determination. “You’re coddling him,” she said quietly, her voice laced with faint amusement.

Kyle didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he poured himself a glass of water, watching as Landon disappeared upstairs. “Perhaps. But Landon’s strength lies in his weakness for that boy. Better he spends a few moments indulging it now than letting it cloud his judgment later.”

Rai hummed in agreement, though her gaze remained sharp. “If only Brandon knew just how much his brother is willing to burn for him.”

Nikolai just totally ignored them.

Upstairs, Landon pushed the door to Brandon’s room open with a gentle creak. His twin lay on the bed, still deeply asleep, his face turned slightly to the side.

With a sigh, Landon approached quietly. He couldn’t help himself—his fingers brushed over Brandon’s hair, ruffling the soft strands before pulling back.

“I’m sorry, Bran,” Landon murmured under his breath. “For all of this. For everything.”

He stood there for a moment longer, letting the silence settle, before retreating to the door. One last glance over his shoulder confirmed that Brandon was still fast asleep, his expression peaceful for now.

Landon closed the door softly behind him, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he’d have to face the consequences of his choices. But for now, Brandon was safe. And that was enough.
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Kyle watched Landon leave, his gaze steady as the younger man disappeared through the door. There was no mistaking the turmoil beneath Landon’s stoic exterior—no matter how well he masked it, Kyle could see the cracks.

For all his intelligence and cunning, Landon King was still a twin, bound by a bond even the strongest of strategies couldn’t sever.

With a quiet sigh, Kyle leaned back in his chair, exchanging a look with Rai, who raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

"He's holding on by threads," Kyle murmured, more to himself than to her. "It’s not just Brandon who’s fraying."

.
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.

Brandon stirred, his body aching and his mind foggy as he blinked against the dim light of the unfamiliar room. Panic set in fast—this wasn’t his bed, wasn’t his room, wasn’t anywhere he recognized. His chest tightened, and he struggled to sit up, his breathing uneven.

“what..?” he croaked, his voice barely audible over his rapid breaths.

In an instant, Nikolai was there, his presence a steadying force as he grasped Brandon’s hand. “I’m here, baby,” Nikolai said softly, his voice soothing as he crouched by the bed.

Brandon’s wide eyes darted around the room, confusion etched into his features. “Where am I?” he whispered, his voice trembling.

Then, as if the question had been buried deep inside him, it tumbled out before anyone could prepare for it:

“Where’s Landon?”

The words hung heavy in the air, the shock reverberating through the room. Nikolai froze, his jaw tightening for the briefest moment before he forced a calm expression.
“You’ve been drugged, lotus flower,” he said smoothly, brushing a strand of hair from Brandon’s forehead. “It’s messing with your head. Landon…he’s not here.”

Kyle and Rai exchanged a glance, the weight of the question settling heavily on them both. Rai stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “You were at an event, sweetheart. Someone spiked your drink. Nikolai got there in time and brought you here. You’re safe now.”

Kyle’s POV

Rai’s words seemed to settle over Brandon like a fragile layer of calm, but I could see the doubt flickering in his eyes. He looked between us, his breathing shallow as if he was trying to piece something together, something just out of reach.

“No…” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t think he’s gone. I felt him…he was there.”

Rai straightened, her mask of calm almost unbreakable, but I caught the brief flicker of fear in her eyes. She stepped forward, her tone carefully measured.

“Sweetheart,” she began, her voice soothing yet firm, “Sometimes…when we’re scared or hurt, we feel the presence of those we miss most. Are you sure you saw Landon? With your own eyes?”

Brandon hesitated, his gaze darting to Nikolai, then back to Rai. “No,” he admitted reluctantly, “I didn’t see him. But I know he was there. I could feel it, like…like he was watching over me.”

Nikolai’s grip on Brandon’s hand tightened subtly, his jaw ticking as he stayed quiet, though the storm in his eyes said everything he didn’t. I could tell he was grappling with the same thoughts I was—how close Brandon was to the truth without even realizing it.

“You’ve been through a traumatic event,” Rai continued, her voice steady but soft. “It’s natural for your mind to reach for comfort, to imagine Landon being there to protect you. But he’s gone, You know that.”

Rai's voice was calm yet insistent as she gently tried to ease Brandon's growing distress. "Bran, darling, emotions can be so overwhelming after something like this. It’s not unusual to feel connected to Landon in moments of fear or vulnerability. He was your twin, after all."

But Brandon’s shaking head and conflicted expression showed her words weren’t reaching him.

Nikolai, seated close, saw his opening and leaned forward. His tone was steady, carefully calculated. “Bran, I need you to trust me on this. You’ve been through hell tonight, and the drugs they gave you? They mess with your mind. They make you think things that aren’t real. That’s probably why you felt like Landon was there. It’s your body looking for safety, for comfort.”

Brandon looked at him, eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears. “But it wasn’t just a feeling, Niko. I know he was there. I felt it. I—”

“Listen to me,” Nikolai interrupted, his voice soft yet firm. He reached out to cup Brandon’s cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “You know I would never lie to you. Landon’s gone, Baby. He can’t come back. You’ve been carrying this pain for so long, and it’s weighing you down. But you don’t have to carry it alone anymore. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

Those words, spoken with such conviction, shattered something inside Brandon. His lips trembled, and he tried to speak, but no sound came out. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, the weight of all he had been holding in finally crashing down on him.

“I miss him,” Brandon choked out, his voice raw with anguish. “I miss him so much it hurts, Niko. He’s gone, and it’s like a piece of me is gone too. I…I don’t know how to live without him.”

Nikolai didn’t hesitate. He pulled Brandon into his arms, cradling him as sobs wracked his body. “Let it out, lotus flower,” he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “Let it all out. I’ve got you. You’re not alone.”

Rai and I stood silently in the background, watching the scene unfold. There was something deeply unsettling yet profoundly moving about it—watching Nikolai hold Brandon as though his very existence depended on it.

Rai’s hand found mine, her grip tight. My throat tight as I watched bran crumble in Nikolai’s arms. It was more than just grief; it was the undeniable connection of twins, one that even death couldn’t sever.

Brandon’s sobs slowly subsided, though he clung to Nikolai like a lifeline. Nikolai held him without a word, his gaze fixed ahead, unreadable. But as I studied his face, I saw the flicker of something I hadn’t expected:

'guilt.'

---

Brandon’s sobs eventually quieted, his breaths coming in shallow gasps and body trembling. His face was buried in Nikolai’s chest, his body slack from exhaustion. His voice, hoarse and barely above a whisper, broke the silence. “I want to go home…”

Nikolai glanced at me and Rai, his jaw tight as if weighing the best course of action. But there was no hesitation when he gently nodded and rubbed slow circles on Brandon’s back. “Okay, lotus flower. Let’s get you home.”

I moved first, stepping outside and start the car. Rai joined me moments later, her expression calm, though I could feel the storm beneath.

Nikolai walked out moments later, carrying Brandon with the ease of someone who’d done it countless times before. Brandon’s head rested against Nikolai’s shoulder, his eyes half-closed but still glazed with a lingering daze. Nikolai didn’t say anything as he carried him to the car, his movements careful and deliberate.

The ride back to the estate was silent save for the soft hum of the car engine. Brandon drifted in and out of consciousness, his fingers clutching weakly at Nikolai’s shirt. Each time his breathing hitched, Nikolai would murmur something too quiet for me to hear, his hand resting protectively on Brandon’s shoulder.

When we reached the house, Astrid and Levi were waiting at the door. They had been informed that Brandon wasn’t feeling well, though the details had been kept vague. Mia stood behind them, her hands wringing nervously, her face etched with concern.

“Oh, my baby,” Astrid whispered, rushing forward as Nikolai stepped out of the car with Brandon still in his arms. “What happened?”

“He’s just exhausted,” Nikolai replied smoothly, his voice calm and reassuring. “He pushed himself too hard today. He needs rest.”

Astrid’s brow furrowed, but she seemed to accept the explanation for now. She reached out to touch Brandon’s cheek, her lips pressing into a thin line at how pale he looked.

“Let’s get him inside,” Levi said, his voice steady but laced with worry.

Nikolai carried Brandon to his room, carefully laying him down on the bed as Mia adjusted the pillows. Astrid fussed over the blankets, tucking them securely around her son. Brandon stirred faintly, his lips parting as though he wanted to say something, but exhaustion pulled him back under before he could.

Mia hovered by the bedside, her hand resting lightly on Brandon’s. She glanced at Nikolai, her eyes silently asking questions he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—answer.

“He’ll be okay,” Nikolai said, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “He just needs rest.”

Astrid sat on the edge of the bed, brushing a hand through Brandon’s hair. “We’ll stay with him,” she said softly. “Thank you, Nikolai.”

Nikolai nodded, his face unreadable. He lingered for a moment, his gaze locked on Brandon’s sleeping form, before stepping back. I followed him out of the room, my mind already racing with what needed to happen next.

Rai was waiting in the hallway, her expression grim. She met my gaze, and we exchanged a silent understanding. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

Chapter Text

Alexander POV

The room was dimly lit, the soft hum of a single overhead bulb casting long shadows across the faces of my most trusted men—or so I thought.

I leaned back in my chair, savoring the weight of the silence before speaking, letting my presence press into them like a vice.

“You’ve been briefed on the failed attempts,” I began, my voice calm but sharp enough to cut through steel. “It’s time we stop playing games.” My eyes swept the room, landing on each man as if I were taking measure of their worth—or lack of it.

“Mia Sokolov,” I said finally, her name hanging in the air like a challenge. “She’s my new interest.”

One of the men shifted uncomfortably, but I didn’t acknowledge it. Let them sweat. That’s how you flush out the weak links.

“She’s not just a Sokolov,” I continued, my tone even. “She’s Landon King’s Achilles’ heel. I’ve had my suspicions about his so-called death, and if he’s alive, he won’t sit idle while she’s in danger.”

There were murmurs of agreement, heads nodding, but I caught the flicker of unease in one man’s eyes. I filed that away for later.

“Our next move is simple,” I said, standing now, my hands planted firmly on the table as I leaned forward. “We make her the target. Threaten her, corner her, and see who shows up. If Landon is alive, he’ll come running. If not, we still send a message loud and clear to the Sokolovs—and their allies.”

I paused, letting my words sink in before delivering the hook. “But don’t be sloppy. This is about precision. We don’t harm her—yet. This is bait, not the kill.”

The men exchanged glances, unsure of my sudden restraint. They didn’t need to know everything. Especially not the fact that Mia wasn’t the real target. She was a decoy, a well-placed pawn to flush out the mole in my ranks.

Because there was a mole. I’d suspected it for weeks, and tonight, I was setting the trap. By focusing their attention on Mia, I’d force the traitor to act—to warn someone, to slip up, to reveal themselves. And while they scurried to protect her, I’d shift my sights where they least expected it: back to Brandon King.

The boy was already fragile, easy to manipulate. Isolating him would be simple. Once the Sokolovs and their merry band of heroes were busy guarding Mia, I’d ensure Brandon was entirely alone—vulnerable and unprotected.

Two birds. One stone.

I straightened, brushing invisible dust from my sleeve. “You have your orders. Coordinate with our men in the field and send me updates every hour.”

The room emptied quickly, but I lingered, my mind already ten steps ahead. I poured myself a drink, watching the amber liquid swirl in the glass as I thought of the chaos to come.

Let them scramble, let them react. By the time they realized my true intention, it would already be too late.

The Sokolovs had an important business event to attend on the outskirts of the city.
And the Kings visiting their daughter glyn. With everyone’s attention locked on errands, I saw this perfect opening.

The knock on the door was soft but distinct. I turned. “Enter.”

Kai stepped in, his posture rigid as always. “The message has been sent,” he said, his voice low and professional.

I smirked. “Good. And our mole?”

“Delivered the information as expected,” Kai replied.

“Perfect,” I said, my tone laced with satisfaction. I moved to the small table by the window, setting down my glass. “They’ll shift their focus entirely to Mia now. Let them play hero while the real game unfolds.”

Kai hesitated for a moment. “Do you think this will work?”

I chuckled, a cold, calculated sound. “The Kings and Sokolovs have always relied on their emotions. They act on instinct, blinded by their connections to each other. They’ll chase after Mia without realizing the true target was never her.”

Kai inclined his head slightly. “And if their mole becomes a liability?”

My eyes gleamed. “Then we cut the strings. Lee has served his purpose. By the time they realize the truth, the damage will already be done.”

“what do you have in your mind about that boy? ” Kai asked, his expression unreadable.

My smirk widened. “Isolated, vulnerable, and blissfully unaware of what’s coming for him. Let the Sokolovs think they’ve protected one child only to lose the other.”

I turned back to the window, the flickering lights reflecting in my cold gaze.

“Tonight, we remind them who holds the upper hand.”

---

The room was silent, save for the sound of Alexander’s measured footsteps. His presence alone was enough to chill the air, and the men gathered around him stood rigid, their eyes trained on the floor.

At the center of the room, kneeling with his hands bound behind his back, was Lee. His face was a mix of defiance and fear, though the latter was beginning to win.

Alexander moved with a deliberate calmness, circling the man who had betrayed him. He stopped just behind Lee, his voice low and dangerous.

“Do you know what I hate the most, Lee?” Alexander asked, his tone deceptively casual. “It’s not failure. No, even the best of us stumble. It’s not cowardice, either. Cowards can be useful in the right circumstances. What I despise—what I cannot forgive—is disloyalty.”

Lee swallowed hard but didn’t respond.

Alexander crouched to his level, his piercing gaze boring into the traitor’s soul.
“You thought you were clever, didn’t you? Feeding scraps to the Sokolovs, whispering secrets into their ears,”

Alexander continued, his voice soft but dripping with menace. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t find you?”
Lee’s defiance flickered for a moment, replaced by fear. “I…" he stammered.

Alexander held up a hand, silencing him. “No excuses, Lee. You made your choice, and now, you’ll face the consequences.”

With a nod from Alexander, two of his men stepped forward, gripping Lee by the arms and forcing him to kneel more firmly.

Another brought a gleaming blade, placing it carefully on the table in front of Alexander. The room seemed to hold its breath as Alexander picked it up, inspecting the edge with a faint smile.

“This isn’t just punishment,” he said, his voice carrying an eerie calmness. “It’s a message. A reminder to anyone else who might think of crossing me.”

Lee’s protests turned to desperate pleas, but they fell on deaf ears. Alexander’s men held him steady as Alexander positioned himself behind the traitor. The blade moved swiftly, the room filling with a sickening silence as the act was carried out.

Alexander stepped back, handing the bloodied blade to one of his men. He looked at Lee’s lifeless body with a clinical detachment, as if he were merely inspecting a piece of art.

“Clean this up,” he ordered. Then, turning to Kai, he added, “Prepare the package. Make sure it’s delivered to the exact location I specified.”

Kai nodded, his expression unreadable as he gestured for the box. The head was carefully placed inside, the lid shut tight.

“Make no mistake,” Alexander said, addressing the room. “This is what happens to traitors. And to the Sokolovs—this is just the beginning.”

As Kai left with the package, Alexander lit a cigar, watching the faint smoke curl upward. He had no doubt that Sokolovs would understand the message. By the time they did, it would be too late. Bran would be right where Alexander wanted him—alone, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy.

Chapter Text

Nikolai’s POV

The estate was quiet peaceful as Levi and Astrid went to visit Glyn. Mom and Dad went for an important business event, Mia went out with Maya, that only left me and my lotus flower alone at home.

My phone buzzed with a message ,the notification lighting up the screen with urgency. My eyes scanned the text, expression tightening as I read the mole’s warning.

'Mia is the new target.'

The shift in Alexander’s strategy was unexpected, and it sent a ripple of unease through me.

I pushed myself off the wall where I’d been leaning, glancing over at Brandon in the living room. My lotus flower was finally at ease, curled up with a book in his hands, calm expressions on his face. For a moment, I hesitated, reluctant to disturb the rare calm that Brandon exuded.

But duty called, and I wasn’t one to take chances—not with family. I approached Brandon, my footsteps deliberate yet soft.

“I need to step out for a while,” I said, keeping my voice calm and steady. I crouched beside the couch to meet Brandon’s gaze, resting a hand lightly on his knee. “It’s important, but I’ll be back soon.”

Brandon looked up from his book, a flicker of concern crossing his features before he smoothed it away. “Is everything okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” I reassured him, forcing a faint smile. “Just something I need to handle. I'll be back soon.You’ll be fine here, right?”

Brandon gave me a small nod, setting the book down. “I’ll be okay, Niko. Don’t worry about me.”

But I did worry—always. Rising to my feet, I crossed the room to check the house’s security system. Screens lit up, displaying live feeds from every camera installed in and around the property. Each angle was scrutinized, every corner of the house meticulously surveyed. Everything appeared normal, but i wasn’t one to trust appearances.

After finishing my scan, i called the head of security, my tone sharp. “Double the guards. Keep your eyes on every entrance, every camera feed. If you see anything—anything—out of the ordinary, you call me immediately.”

“Yes, sir,” the voice on the other end responded promptly.

Satisfied for the moment, i turned back to Brandon, who was watching me with a mixture of curiosity and quiet understanding.

“Lock the doors, okay?” I instructed as i moved toward the exit.

Brandon chuckled softly, trying to lighten the moment. “You’re being overprotective again, Niko.”

“Humor me,” i replied, giving him one last look. The faint amusement in Brandon’s voice didn’t do much to ease my worry, but i had no choice but to leave.

As i stepped out of the house and into my car, i couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of unease. The mole’s information had come at the right time, but it was rare for Alexander to make such a direct move.

I knew there was more to this plan, though what, i couldn’t yet figure out.

With Brandon’s safety secured for now, my focus shifted to Mia. I’d deal with Alexander’s trap—and anyone who dared to endanger my family—with swift and merciless precision.

---

The moment I stepped onto the quiet street near the cafe where Mia was supposed to be, I saw mom and dad were already in the cafe with her.

Then I saw him.

Landon.

He was standing in the shadows,like he belong there, his presence as commanding as ever. Even though I knew he was alive, seeing him here sent a ripple of tension through me.

“what are you doing here?why You left him alone” Landon said the moment I approached, his voice low but cutting.

I clenched my jaw, unwilling to show how deeply the accusation struck. “I didn’t just leave him,” I snapped back. “I secured the house, checked every camera, every guard. He’s safe.”

“You can’t know that,” Landon retorted, stepping closer. “You know how Alexander operates. He gets into places no one expects. And you just walked out, thinking everything would hold?”

“I did what I had to do,” I shot back. “Mia’s life was at risk. You of all people should understand that.”

His glare was icy, his posture rigid. “Don’t use her as an excuse. You should’ve stayed with him.”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “And if I had, who would’ve ensured Mia was safe? You? The man hiding in shadows instead of taking action?”

The sharp retort didn’t faze him. If anything, it made him angrier. “You have no idea what I’m doing,” he hissed. “But if anything happens to Bran, Nikolai, I’ll hold you responsible. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

Before I could respond, Mom and Dad emerged from the café. Their expressions were grave, but relief flickered in mom’s eyes when she saw us. “Mia’s fine,” she said shortly.

Landon gave a curt nod, but before he could came out of the shadows and we could regroup, a courier approached, holding a plain brown package. “Delivery for Rai Sokolov,” the man said, his tone emotionless.

Mom and Dad exchanged a glance before dad took the package, dismissing the courier with a sharp gesture. The tension between us was palpable as he unwrapped it.

The final layer of paper fell away, revealing...
The severed head of Lee.

For a moment, none of us spoke. The air around us seemed to freeze.

“He fucking knew,” mom said, her voice shaking with controlled fury. “Alexander knew about the mole.”

“He didn’t just know,” Landon growled, his voice like a blade. “He’s taunting us. Telling us we’ve been playing into his hands.”

And then it hit me. The realization was like ice flooding my veins. “It’s a distraction,” I said, my voice low but urgent. “He wanted us all here. So Brandon—”

I didn’t finish the sentence. My feet were already moving, my mind racing. I heard Landon’s sharp intake of breath as he realized the same thing.My feet were already moving, my mind consumed with one thought...
getting back to Brandon before it was too late.

Chapter Text

Landon’s POV

As we moved toward the cars, the air around us was thick with tension. Nikolai was already in motion, his urgency clear as he yanked open the car's door. Rai and Kyle followed, their expressions tight with grim determination. I lagged behind, my mind racing.

I couldn’t ignore it anymore—the pull in my chest, the gnawing unease that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t just worry or guilt. It was instinct, that twin connection I could never explain to anyone.

As I turned to leave, Kyle called out, “Where are you going?”

I stopped, my hands clenched at my sides. “I can’t do this anymore,” I said, my voice low but firm. “Sitting in the shadows, letting everyone else move the pieces while I watch? No. Not when it’s my brother. I have to go to him.”

“You don’t even know if something’s wrong,” Rai said, her tone measured but laced with concern.

“I don’t need proof,” I snapped, spinning to face them. “I feel it. I’ve felt it all night. Something’s off, and I’m not standing here debating while he’s—” I stopped myself, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Nikolai stepped forward, his jaw tight. “You think I don’t feel the same way? He’s my everything, Landon. But we have to be smart about this.”

I met his gaze, unflinching. “You might be able to hold back, but I can’t. He’s my twin. I know when something’s wrong, and right now, every bone in my body is screaming at me to get to him.”

Kyle took a step toward me, his voice softer now. “Landon, if you go now, you’ll expose yourself. You’ve stayed hidden for this long for a reason.”

“That reason doesn’t matter anymore,” I said, shaking my head. “If anything happens to him while I’m standing here playing it safe…” My voice cracked, and I forced myself to steady it. “I won’t live with that.”

Without waiting for their response, I turned on my heel and walked to my car.

“Landon,” Kyle’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding, stopping me in my tracks. “you can't go alone”

I snapped, my voice low and furious. “Brandon’s alone,While we’re here chasing shadows, Alexander’s already—”

“And that’s exactly what Alexander wants,” Kyle interrupted, stepping closer, his calm demeanor a razor-sharp contrast to the storm brewing inside me. “You’re not thinking straight. None of us are. If you go charging in alone, you’ll be giving him exactly what he needs—another piece of leverage. Another victim.”

His words cut deep, not because I disagreed, but because he was right. I hated it. My entire being screamed at me to run, to get to Bran, to protect him. But Kyle’s unyielding gaze anchored me, forced me to think instead of act purely on instinct.

“We go together,” he continued, his tone softer now but no less firm. “We think and act as a team. That’s how we win this.”

I let out a slow, frustrated breath, my fists clenching and unclenching at my sides. “Fine,” I bit out, though my insides were still burning with the need to move faster than humanly possible.

Kyle gave a small nod and turned to Rai, guiding her toward the passenger seat of the SUV. Nikolai shot me a brief glance as we both climbed into the back. The tension was thick, the silence oppressive as the engine roared to life and Kyle pulled us onto the road.

Nikolai was silent as a stone. He didn’t have to say it—his thoughts were as loud as my own. We’d both failed Bran, and now we were racing against time to fix it.

The car sped down the dark streets, and I stared out the window, my mind already at the estate. Bran’s face flashed in my head—his ridiculous angelic smile, his calmness even when everything else was chaos. And now, he was alone, vulnerable.

I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut, the same feeling that had saved me more times than I could count. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Nikolai pulled out his phone, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to call Brandon. The line rang endlessly, the silence more deafening with every passing second. He clenched his jaw and tried again. Still no answer.

“He’s not picking up,” Nikolai muttered, his voice taut with barely restrained panic.

Next to him, I yanked out my phone, ignoring Rai’s sharp, questioning look as I opened the estate’s security system.

“how do you have the access to it” she asked, her tone edged with disbelief.

Her gaze burned into me, but I didn’t care. Time was slipping through our fingers, and every second felt like a countdown to disaster.

The screen loaded slowly—too slowly. My breath caught in my chest as the footage finally appeared. But what I saw made my blood run cold.

“Offline,” I said, my voice flat, though the fury bubbling underneath was anything but. “Cameras are down. Destroyed, most likely.”

Rai let out a soft gasp, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I couldn’t. Not when everything inside me screamed that Brandon was in danger.

“Nikolai,” I snapped, turning to him.

He didn’t need to be told twice. His fingers flew across his phone screen as he activated the GPS tracker hidden in Brandon’s engagement ring.Nikolai had sneaked in it, a precaution that felt too paranoid at the time. Now, it felt like the only lifeline we had.

“Still at home,” Nikolai said, his voice low and tight.

“That doesn’t mean he’s safe,” I said bluntly. “If the cameras are down, they’ve already breached the perimeters."

Kyle tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “Then we move faster,” he said, accelerating as the car roared forward, eating up the distance between us and the estate.

Every second stretched into an eternity as the GPS tracker blinked steadily on Nikolai’s screen.

The car screeched to a halt in front of the estate, the sight before us a vision straight from hell.

The once-pristine grounds were now a battlefield drenched in crimson, bodies of the guards scattered like broken dolls. Blood pooled and smeared everywhere, painting a grotesque picture of chaos and violence.

I was out of the car before it even fully stopped, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. Nikolai was right behind me, his face a mask of fury and fear, his usual composure shattered. Kyle and Rai followed, their silence more chilling than any words.

The metallic stench of blood was overpowering, and the eerie silence that hung in the air was suffocating.

My eyes scanned the carnage, searching—praying—for something, anything that would tell me Brandon was still here, still alive.

We called out for bran but there was total silence.

“Nikolai!” I barked, my voice echoing in the emptiness as I stepped over a lifeless body, its blood staining my shoes.

Nikolai didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on something a few feet ahead, and as I followed his line of sight, I felt my stomach twist into a painful knot.

There, amidst the chaos, lying in a pool of blood, was Brandon’s engagement ring.

Nikolai bend forward, his trembling hand reaching out to pick it up.

Nikolai's trembling hand clutched the bloodied engagement ring as though it were Brandon himself. For a moment, he was frozen, his wide eyes fixed on the crimson-streaked band in his palm.

Then it hit him, a tidal wave of emotion that no walls or defenses could hold back. His knees buckled, and he fell to the bloodstained ground, his body shaking as sobs wracked through him.

“No... no, no, no,” he choked, his voice cracking with each repetition. “Not him. Not my lotus flower. He can’t—” His words dissolved into incoherence as he pressed the ring to his chest, his tears falling freely.

Kyle was beside him in an instant, his face lined with grief but composed with the strength Nikolai so desperately needed. He knelt down, gripping Nikolai's shoulder firmly but gently, grounding him in the moment.

“Nikolai,” Kyle said, his voice steady but low, “listen to me. This isn’t the end. We’ll find him. But you need to hold it together for Brandon. He needs you to be strong.”

Nikolai shook his head violently, his words tumbling out in broken gasps. “I left him, Dad. I left him alone. I—I told him I’d be back, that he’d be safe, and now—now I—”

“You didn’t fail him,” Kyle cut in, his tone firm but laced with empathy. “Do you hear me? You didn’t fail him. The people who did this— they failed. And we’re going to make sure they pay.”
Nikolai’s hands gripped Kyle’s shirt, his desperation palpable. “What if I’m too late? What if—what if I can’t—”

“You will,” Kyle said with unshakeable conviction, his hand squeezing Nikolai’s shoulder. “You will because you love him, and because you won’t let this be the end. I know you, son. You don’t give up. Not on Brandon.”

Nikolai’s sobs quieted to sharp, ragged breaths as Kyle’s words settled over him. Slowly, he nodded, his grip on the ring tightening as though drawing strength from the small, bloodied band.

Rai crouched beside them, her eyes glistening with unshed tears but her demeanor resolute. She reached out, placing a hand on Nikolai’s cheek and gently tilting his face up.

“Brandon needs us,” she said softly, her voice a mix of steel and comfort. “He’s still out there, and he’s waiting for you. So take this pain and turn it into fire. For him.”

Kyle stood, pulling Nikolai up with him. “We need to act. Every second counts. Are you with us?”

Nikolai nodded and wiped his face with a trembling hand, his golden retriever warmth buried under the volatile storm brewing in his eyes.

My brain as if finally came out of the shock and started working again as I look for Brandon’s phone which was working earlier but he wasn’t picking up the call.

I didn’t have to look too much because I found it tucked carefully between the cushions of couch.

As I picked it up , i saw there was video recorded on it recently. Others surrounded me as i play the video to watch.

The moment I hit play, my pulse roared in my ears. The screen lit up, shaky footage coming into view. The angle was off—it was clear Bran had set the phone down, trying to keep it hidden. His back filled the frame, and I immediately noticed the tension in his shoulders. He was bracing himself, gripping the couch like it was the only thing keeping him steady.

Then I heard it—his voice.

"Brandon King," Alexander’s voice curled through the recording like smoke, taunting, smug.

I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles whitening. That bastard.

Bran turned, and my heart squeezed painfully at the sight of his face. Shock, recognition, and... something else. Fear? He was holding his ground, but I could see it, the smallest tremor in his stance. I know him better than anyone—I see everything he hides.

"Alexander..." Bran’s voice came through low, quiet, yet steady. "You... you were the donor at that charity event..."

"So you do remember me. Well well, did you noticethe bloodbath i had with your security members. Tough guys i must say. " Alexander said, stepping into view. That smirk—so casual, so arrogant—made me want to crush the phone in my hand. I’d wipe that look off his face, one way or another.

Bran shifted slightly, making sure the recording caught everything. Smart. Too smart. He knew. He must’ve known something wasn’t right, and he was trying to leave us some clues.

"Why are you doing this?Why are you here?" Bran asked. His voice was calm—too calm, and I hated that I could hear the strain beneath it.

Alexander’s smirk grew darker, his tone dripping with venomous amusement.

“Why?” He leaned against the edge of the couch, his gaze piercing. “Because your dear family needs to learn that their so-called power has consequences. And what better way to teach them than through their most precious weakness?”

I gripped the phone tighter, my jaw clenching as Alexander continued.

Bran didn’t falter, his voice steady. “What nonsense are you talking about?"

Alexander’s eyes gleamed, clearly relishing the moment. “so, you are naive after all. Fine I'll explain since you are such a delight to be around."

Bran stiffened, and I could practically hear his mind racing through the screen. He was trying to get more from Alexander, trying to buy time, trying to leave us a thread to follow.

Alexander's smirk deepened, his confidence oozing through the screen. "You think the Sokolovs are untouchable, don’t you? That their power makes them invincible?" He laughed, the sound cold and devoid of any warmth. "They’ve ruined too many, stepped on too many toes. I’m just the one who’s bold enough to strike where it hurts."

Alexander continued, his tone dropping into something almost conversational, like he was relishing this moment. "Do you know how long I’ve been planning this? Years. Quietly building alliances, turning their rivals into allies, setting every piece in place. And now... here we are." He gestured vaguely, his confidence like acid.

Bran’s voice was sharper now. "And me? What am I in all this? a pawn?"

Alexander chuckled darkly, his hand moving to the back of the couch near Bran. "Oh, you’re so much more than a pawn, Brandon. You’re leverage. The Sokolovs’ perfect Achilles’ heel. Now if your curious mind done joining the pieces together, hurry we have to leave"

Bran’s head tilted slightly, his tone sharpening as he tried to pull away from Alexander. "Leave...?"

That bastard smirked again, the kind of grin that made my blood boil. He leaned closer to Bran, his voice lowering but still clear. "Yes! We have to leave.Let’s just say it’s a meeting the Sokolovs can’t ignore—especially when it’s on their rival's territory."

As they were talking, Suddenly, another figure entered the room.

Bran gasped audibly in the recording. "Kai?" His voice wavered, a mix of confusion and disbelief.

My stomach twisted. Kai. One of the our most trusted servants, standing there like he belonged by Alexander’s side.

Alexander smirked at Bran’s reaction, looking over his shoulder at Kai. “Ah, your family’s trusted dog. Didn’t think he’d switch sides, did you?”

“Kai... why?” Bran’s voice cracked, betrayal seeping into his words.

Kai’s expression remained stoic, his cold detachment a cruel contrast to Bran’s raw emotion.

“Enough talk,” Alexander ordered, his eyes catching on something. He stepped closer to Bran, pointing to his hand. “That ring. You no longer need to wear that. Take it off”

Bran clutched his hand to his chest, instinctively pulling back, but Kai stepped forward. He grabbed Bran’s hand roughly, prying his fingers apart. Bran resisted, but Kai was stronger, twisting Bran’s hand until he cried out.

“Stop!” Bran’s voice cracked, panic filling his tone.

With a cruel yank, Kai tore the ring off Bran’s finger, the force ripping the skin. Blood welled up instantly, dripping onto the floor. Bran winced. And in between his struggles the phone stop recording and the video ended.

My mind screamed with fury, with fear, with the desperate need to act.

The room felt like it was closing in on me. I wanted to smash something, anything—but no, Bran needed me sharp. He needed me focused. I slipped the phone into my pocket, my mind already racing.

Nikolai bolted upright, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “He’s bleeding. They hurt him. I'll burn them all.” His voice cracked, raw with anguish.

Rai put a hand on his arm, her voice calm but tense. “We’ll get him back. Nikolai. Look at me. We’ll get him back.”

Kyle’s expression was ashen, his focus shifting to me. “You understand now, Landon. This is no longer just abduction. This is war. We move carefully, or we lose him forever.”

I didn’t need his reminder. My twin was out there, and his blood was on the hands of people who wouldn’t live long enough to regret it.

I clutched the phone tightly, my entire body taut with tension. Bran had pieced it together—he’d been brave enough to face Alexander, to try and leave us clues even as he was being taken.

But now... now I knew exactly who I was hunting. Alexander thought he was clever, thought he was untouchable.
But he forgot one crucial thing: you don’t get to mess with my other half.

Chapter Text

Brandon's POV

The cold air bit at my skin as I stumbled out of the car, the rough hands of Alexander’s men steering me forward. The mansion before me loomed large, its dark, foreboding silhouette set against the night sky. My heart pounded in my chest, and my injured hand throbbed in rhythm, a cruel reminder of what had already transpired.

Alexander walked ahead with the calm arrogance of someone who owned everything and feared nothing. He glanced back at me, his lips curling into a smirk.

“Welcome, Brandon. You should feel honored. Not many get to see the heart of my operations.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Every step I took felt heavier, dragging me deeper into a nightmare I couldn’t escape. My head swam with fragments of the conversation I’d overheard, the pieces of a sinister puzzle falling into place.

Alexander paused at the grand entrance, turning to me with an almost calm expression, an unsettling contrast to the blood on his hands.

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here, aren’t you?”

I held his gaze, the only act of defiance I could muster. “I know why,” I said quietly, my voice steadier than I felt. “ You think using me will hurt them.”

His smile widened, a predator pleased with its prey. “Smart boy. But this isn’t just about them. It’s about showing the world who truly holds the power. Your family... the Sokolovs... they’ve been too comfortable for too long.”

“Comfortable?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “You’ve destroyed lives. That’s not power; that’s...”

He grasp my hair forcefully tilted my head, silencing me. “Careful, Brandon. You’re valuable, but that doesn’t make you untouchable. Yet.”

A shiver ran down my spine as he gestured for his men to open the doors. Inside, the air was thick with tension, and the opulence of the mansion did nothing to mask its sinister undertone. I was led to a dimly lit room with a single chair in the center, its starkness a cruel juxtaposition to the ornate surroundings.

Alexander motioned for me to sit. When I hesitated, one of his men shoved me forward, and I stumbled into the seat.

“Now,” Alexander said, pacing leisurely in front of me, “let’s talk about your future. Or rather, the lack of it.”

My chest tightened. “What do you want from me?”

“Everything,” he replied simply, his tone almost bored. “Your family’s tears. Their surrender. Their lives, if it comes to that.”

I clenched my fists, the injured finger pulsing with pain. “They’ll never give in to you.”

“Perhaps not,” he conceded with a shrug. “But even the strongest foundations crumble when you hit the right pressure points. And you, Brandon King, are a perfect crack in their walls.”

My throat tightened as the weight of his words sank in. My family’s love for me was my greatest strength—and my greatest vulnerability.

Before I could respond, Alexander leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And don’t think about being rescued. By the time they find you, the damage will already be done.”

As he straightened, his chilling smile remained. “Welcome to the game, Brandon. Let’s see how much you’re worth to them.”

I sat frozen, my mind racing. If I was going to survive this, I needed to stay calm, stay alert. My family would come for me—I just had to hold on. For them.

The door slammed shut behind Alexander as he exited, leaving me alone in the cold, oppressive room. My chest felt tight, my breath shallow as panic clawed at the edges of my mind. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms to ground myself, the pain from my injured finger sharp and grounding.

Alexander’s words echoed in my head, each syllable a weight threatening to crush me. They’ll come for me. They have to.

But how much damage would Alexander inflict before they could? And could I survive long enough for them to find me?

I scanned the room, my eyes darting over every surface. There were no windows, no obvious exits other than the door. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling, and a single flickering light hung overhead. It was deliberate—everything designed to isolate, intimidate, and break me down.
I couldn’t let that happen.

The chair beneath me creaked as I shifted, testing the restraints they’d tied around my wrists. They weren’t tight, but the angle made it difficult to work against them. My injured finger throbbed again, a steady reminder of how far Alexander was willing to go.

I thought of Nikolai—his voice, his touch, his promises. He’d said he’d always protect me, that he’d never let anything happen to me. But how could he protect me from this?

My throat tightened at the thought of him seeing the blood on the engagement ring. He would’ve been frantic, devastated.

I didn’t even realise how much time had passed when The door creaked open suddenly and Alexander entered, his expression smug as always.

“You look deep in thought, Brandon,” he said, pulling up a chair to sit across from me. “Good. That means you understand the gravity of your situation.”

I didn’t respond, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as I could muster.

“Still holding onto hope, are we?” He smirked. “Admirable. Foolish, but admirable.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.
He leaned back, crossing his legs.

“Because I can. Because your family needs to learn they’re not untouchable. And because you’re the perfect pawn.”

“You’ll never win,” I said quietly, but firmly.

Alexander chuckled. “Oh, Brandon. Winning isn’t the goal. Breaking them is. Come on, hurry up they want to see you now."
Before I could ask who he meant. He forced to leave with him.

The room Alexander led me into was suffocating, not because of its size or grandeur but because of the people in it.

My hands were bound, my shoulders aching from being pulled back unnaturally by the tight restraints. Two men flanked me, their grips ironclad, ensuring I couldn’t move even if I tried.

There were alot of people seated at a long, dark table, their expressions sharp and predatory. The air reeked of cigar smoke and something metallic, like blood. The low hum of distant chatter stopped the moment I was pushed into the center of the room.

“Ah, so this is him,” a man with a deep scar running down his cheek said, his voice rough and cold. His piercing gaze swept over me, appraising me like one of the items on the table—an assortment of expensive trinkets, documents, and... weapons.

“Brandon King,” Alexander said, his tone dripping with smugness as he stepped forward. He grabbed my chin, forcing my head up. “Meet the Sergeis, Brandon. They’ve been very eager to see you.”

I yanked my head away from his grasp, glaring at him, but my defiance only seemed to amuse the Sergeis.

A woman with sharp features and unnervingly dark eyes leaned back in her chair, a cruel smile spreading across her face.

“He’s got fire,” she said, her voice smooth but venomous. “I like that. It’ll make what comes next all the more entertaining.”

My stomach churned.

“What do you want?” I forced out, my voice steady despite the weight of fear pressing down on my chest.

The woman tilted her head, her smile widening. “You, my dear, are leverage. A very valuable piece in a very intricate game.”

The man with the scar stood, walking toward me with deliberate steps. His presence was oppressive, his aura radiating pure danger.

“You see,” he began, circling me slowly, “the Kings and the Sokolovs have built quite the empire. Wealth. Power. Influence. And then there’s you—sweet, innocent, and adored. The perfect bait.”

“You’re wasting your time,” I spat, though my heart thundered in my chest.

The man chuckled darkly, his eyes narrowing as he stopped in front of me. “You think so?” He grabbed my jaw, his fingers digging painfully into my skin. “I’ve seen men like Nikolai Sokolov crumble over less. And you? You’re going to break him.”

Alexander watched the exchange with a smirk, clearly enjoying the show.
“Don’t be too rough with him, Viktor,” the sharp-featured woman said, her voice laced with mock concern. “We need him in good condition for the market.”

The market? My blood ran cold.

The man named Viktor released my jaw, stepping back with a sinister grin. “Of course. The buyers will be lining up for someone like him—rare, untouched, and connected to two of the most powerful families in the world.”

The realization hit me like a freight train. They weren’t just using me as leverage. They were planning to sell me.

“Human trafficking,” I said, the words escaping my lips before I could stop them.

Viktor clapped his hands, laughing. “Smart boy. Shame that won’t save you.”

I turned to Alexander, desperation mingling with fury. “You’re insane if you think they’ll let this slide. Nikolai will...”

“...do nothing,” Alexander interrupted, his voice sharp and final. “By the time they figure out where you are, you’ll already be gone. The Sergeis have perfected the art of erasing people, Brandon. You’re nothing more than a ghost now.”

I wanted to scream, to fight, but the restraints bit into my wrists, and the guards on either side tightened their grip.

My chest heaved as the weight of the situation bore down on me.But I refused to let them see me break. Not yet.

As the Sergeis continued their conversation, their confidence in my restraint allowed a slip in their vigilance.

They weren’t worried about me overhearing their plans; they were too arrogant to think I could do anything with the information. But I was listening. Every word. Every detail.

Viktor pulled out a sleek tablet from the inside pocket of his jacket and slid it across the table. The screen glowed faintly as he entered a password, his thick fingers tapping the keys quickly.

“Get the transfers ready,” he said, his tone commanding. “Use the usual routing through the Belize account, Tara. I want the shipments moved by midnight tonight. The buyers are expecting their merchandise at the southern dock by then.”

“Belize,” I whispered to myself, storing the name in my mind.

The woman named Tara with sharp features leaned over the tablet, her long, manicured nails clicking against the screen as she navigated a document. She glanced at Viktor. “Do you think it’s wise to keep the passcodes under the same name? ‘Solstice’ isn’t exactly discreet.”

“It’s been working for years,” Viktor replied with a scoff. “No one’s been smart enough to figure it out, and no one will now.”

Solstice. Midnight today. Southern dock.

“Make sure the transfers are in motion,” he muttered to her. “We don’t need another delay.”

“Already on it,” she replied, her tone clipped. “The rerouting through the offshore accounts will keep everything clean. Same channel as usual.”

Viktor grunted in approval, downing the rest of his drink. “That channel’s held for years. If the Sokolovs had half a brain, they’d have figured it out by now. Their obsession with brute force blinds them.”

The woman smirked faintly, still focused on the tablet. “Solstice has worked so far, but we should consider a backup plan.”

“Paranoia doesn’t suit you,” Viktor said, his voice dripping with disdain. “The docks are secure, and the schedule is tight. Midnight tomorrow;we’re golden.”

My pulse quickened. They thought I was too cowed to catch the details, but I was listening. Solstice. Midnight. The docks.

I kept my face as impassive as possible, even as my heart raced. The Sergeis’ carelessness had given me a thread—a fragile one, but a thread nonetheless.

Just then, Viktor turned his sharp eyes toward me, narrowing them in suspicion. My stomach dropped, but I forced myself to meet his gaze without flinching.

“You’re quiet,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Thinking of running, are you?”

I shook my head slowly, carefully controlling my tone. “There’s no point in running, is there? Not with your men everywhere.”

He smirked, pleased with my apparent resignation. “Smart boy.”

Alexander, lounging nearby, chuckled. “He’s starting to accept his place. That’s good. It’ll make the transition easier.”

I let their words wash over me, using the time to memorize every fragment of information I had gathered so far.

Even as the room buzzed with their sinister plans, I felt a flicker of hope now that i have some information on them which my family and in-laws can use when they get here.

I wasn’t powerless. Not entirely. And I would make sure the Sergeis paid for underestimating me.

Chapter Text

Landon’s POV

The phone felt heavy in my hand after the video ended as I paced the dimly lit hallway. Every step echoed louder in my head than it did against the marble floor. My chest was tight, and the world around me seemed to blur. Everyone was doing something—calling in favors, speaking in hushed tones but it wasn’t fast enough. Nothing was fast enough.

Nikolai was coiled like a snake, simmering with barely-contained fury as kyle barked orders into the phone. Rai stood nearby, speaking rapidly in Russian with Nikolai’s grandfather,whose already on his private plane to here, his voice carried a commanding weight even through the static of a transatlantic call. They were all trying, but I couldn’t just stand here.

There was only one person who could possibly understand this kind of madness:

Aiden King.

My uncle would get it. He always did. He had seen desperation like this, lived through chaos, and thrived on it. He’d know what to do, and if he didn’t, he’d damn well figure it out.

I dialed his number, my fingers shaking. The phone rang once, twice, and then his voice came through, sharp and brisk as always.

“Who is this?”

“It’s me,” I said, my voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

Uncle Aiden paused. “Landon?” His tone shifted, disbelief bleeding through the line. “Landon...What the hell—”

“I don’t have time for this,” I interrupted, my words tumbling out fast. “Brandon’s been taken.”

There was silence on the other end, thick and loaded. Then, his voice came low and deliberate. “Start from the beginning.”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. I tried to brief him.

“You’re alive, and this is how you tell me?” Aiden growled, his anger restrained but palpable.

“Uncle—” My voice cracked. “I need your help.”

The line went quiet for a moment, and then Aiden’s tone shifted to something colder, more focused. “Eli and I will be there in hours. I’ll let uncle Jonathan know.”

“do something...” I snapped, panic rising.

Uncle Aiden didn’t argue, his voice resolute. “We’ll handle it. Just hold on, Landon. We’ll bring him back.”

As the call ended, I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes. For the first time since we’d found the bloody engagement ring, I felt a sliver of hope. If anyone could tip the scales, it was my family.

Chapter Text

Aiden's POV

The estate was a war zone when we reached there. Blood soaked into the luxurious carpets, the walls marred by bullet holes and scorch marks.

As I stepped inside, the grim atmosphere weighed heavily. Eli was behind me, silent for once, his usual sharp wit replaced by a grim determination.uncle Jonathan followed, his expression a perfect mask of control, though his eyes betrayed a rare flicker of concern.

Every inch of the place screamed chaos, but it was the devastation on Landon’s face that hit me harder than the carnage around them.

The usually indomitable, narcissistic force of nature now looked like a shadow of himself, pacing back and forth near the remnants of the living room. His fists clenched and unclenched, his knuckles white, and those stormy, unrelenting eyes—looked lost.

“Landon,” I called softly, but it wasn’t enough.

I crossed the room quickly, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from Kyle and the watchful gaze of Nikolai. Landon turned sharply, his movements jerky, as if he wasn’t fully present. I didn’t give him the chance to push me away.

I pulled him into a firm embrace, feeling the tension radiate off him. He stiffened for a moment, as if resisting, but then his resolve cracked, and i felt the weight of Landon’s head drop onto my shoulder.

"I just want him back safe and sound, uncle" he said,his voice barely above a whisper.

“We’ll get him back,son.” i whispered, my voice steady and low. “I swear to you, Landon. We’ll get him back.”

For a moment, neither of us moved. Landon’s breathing was uneven, ragged, but he didn’t speak. I tightened my hold, grounding him in the moment. This wasn’t the time for bravado or walls. This was family, and Landon needed to know he wasn’t carrying this alone.

From the very beginning, I loved both of the twins as if they were my sons. But landon shared a strong connection with me which is not the same as his own dad Levi.

When i finally pulled back, i kept my hands on Landon’s shoulders, forcing him to meet my eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Landon nodded, a quick, almost frantic motion.

“Good. Then let’s focus. What do we know?”

Rai spoke up, her voice sharper than usual. “We have a lead, but it’s thin. If we can tap into the security feed of the surrounding areas, we might be able to track where they took Brandon.”

Landon straightened, his posture stiffening as if the reminder of his brother gave him strength. “I need to see that footage,” he said, his voice low and tight.

Kyle tilting his head toward the tech setup they’d brought in. “Get it done.”

He was already moving, his fingers flying over his laptop. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll have a location.”

I turned back to Landon. “We’re not stopping, not until we have him back. You hear me?”

Landon nodded again, more resolute this time. His stormy eyes burned with determination, and I knew that whatever it took, we wouldn’t stop until Brandon was safe.

I was leaning against the far wall, watching the family coordinate their resources. My son Eli was hunched over his laptop, sharing intel with Nikolai and Landon. Uncle stood nearby, a silent pillar of resolve, while Kyle and Rai strategized with their men.

When suddenly Nikolai's grandfather Gareth Ellis entered, the room stilled for a moment. His aura was commanding, his gaze sharp as it swept over the gathered family. He acknowledged uncle Jonathan and me with a subtle nod before addressing Nikolai directly.

“I have information,” he began, his Russian accent adding weight to his words. “Our informant has confirmed where the Sergeis are taking Brandon.”

Landon’s head snapped up, his stormy eyes locking onto the older man. “Where?” His voice was clipped, but the desperation underneath was unmistakable.

The patriarch’s gaze didn’t waver. “They are moving him to an old stronghold at the southern border. It’s secluded, fortified, and serves as a hub for their...operations.” His tone was icy, and I didn’t miss the subtle clench of his jaw.

“And this informant?” uncle asked, his voice even but laced with curiosity.

“He is embedded deep within their ranks. Trustworthy,” Nikolai’s grandfather replied. “He will provide us with the exact coordinates once Brandon arrives there. We move only when we know he is on-site.”

Landon bristled, stepping forward. “That’s time wasted. Brandon could already be—”

“Enough,” the patriarch interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “We will strike when the time is right, and not a moment before. Rushing in blind will do nothing but ensure failure.”

I stepped in then, placing a hand on Landon’s shoulder. “He’s right, Lan. We’ve waited this long; a few more hours could mean the difference between rescuing him and losing him.”

Landon’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, though I could see the restraint it cost him.

Nikolai, however, just couldn't sit straight, his movements stiff. “I don’t care about timing. I’m not sitting here while he’s out there.”

His grandfather’s gaze softened, just for a moment. “And you will be there, Nikolai. But only when we’re ready.”

The room fell into a tense silence as the plan solidified. We would wait for the informant’s final word, then strike with everything we had. For now, though, the Sergeis had the upper hand.

But not for long.

Chapter Text

Brandon's POV

It feels like Alexander finally reach his destined place he wanted me to be at.
The room was cold. Not just physically though the chill of the glass floor beneath me seeped into my very bones but in its stark, detached cruelty.

The entire structure was made of glass, perched above an expanse of dark, endless water that seemed to swallow every reflection of light. It felt like the whole world had disappeared, leaving only this glass prison and the ghosts of the people trapped inside it.

I wasn’t alone. Around me, others huddled, their faces pale with fear and exhaustion. Young boys and girls barely old enough to speak,all of us were captives, stripped of hope and dignity. Their quiet sobs filled the room like a haunting melody.

I leaned against the far wall, my wrists raw from the tight restraints, my body aching from the bruises left by Alexander’s men.

My head throbbed, but it wasn’t just the pain—it was the reality of where I was. The Sergeis weren’t just ruthless; they were organized, calculating, and utterly without remorse.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the sterile quiet of the glass room. My heart dropped as Alexander strode in, his dark coat billowing slightly as he moved. Behind him, Sergei himself followed with cold, dead eyes and a predatory smirk that made my skin crawl.

Alexander stopped a few paces away from me, surveying the room with the air of a king inspecting his kingdom. His gaze settled on me, and he smiled sharp, cold, and triumphant.

“Well, well, Brandon King,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “You’ve been quite the trouble, haven’t you?”

I didn’t reply. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

Alexander’s smirk widened as Sergei chuckled darkly. “Do you know where you are, little King?” Sergei asked, his accent thick and his voice rumbling like thunder.

I didn’t answer.

“You’re at the edge of the world,” Alexander continued, his tone mockingly gentle. “This place? It’s a sanctuary. A haven for... transactions.” He gestured to the others in the room. “A place where merchandise is evaluated, valued, and sold to those who can appreciate it.”

My stomach churned.

“And you,” Sergei cut in, stepping closer, “are the crown jewel of tonight’s auction.”

I stiffened, my hands curling into fists.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Alexander said, his smile never wavering. “You’ve always been special, Brandon. A beacon, if you will. And now, you’ll be someone else’s prize.”

My voice cracked as I found it, hoarse and unsteady. “You’ll never get away with this. My family will find me.”

Alexander’s laughter was cold and empty. “Your family?” he sneered. “They won’t even know where to start looking. And by the time they do, you’ll be far, far away. Somewhere they’ll never think to search.”

Sergei leaned in closer, his breath reeking of cigarettes and malice. “Maybe I’ll tell your buyers to leave a little note for them,” he said, his grin widening. “Just to let them know you’re gone forever.”

Anger bubbled in my chest, but I swallowed it down, forcing myself to think clearly. I couldn’t let them see me crack.

As they turned their attention to the room’s exit, talking in low voices, my mind raced. I needed a way out. I needed a clue, a weakness, something I could use to fight back. My eyes darted to the faint reflection of Sergei’s phone in the glass wall—a brief glimpse of a document open on the screen.
A shipment ledger.

I memorized the details as quickly as I could, my heart pounding in my chest. If I made it out of here alive, I’d make sure that ledger destroyed them.

For now, though, all I could do was wait—and hope that my family found me before it was too late. They have to stop the shipment happening tonight which they can use against Sergeis and Alexander’s alliances in the mafia to prevent the war.

The silence in the glass room was suffocating, broken only by the occasional sobs and whispers of the captives. My mind was racing, but my body felt heavy, weighted by the chains and the realization of the auction that loomed ahead. My family had to be on their way. I clung to that belief, but time felt like an enemy here, slipping through my fingers like water.

The door creaked open, drawing every pair of eyes in the room. My heart leapt, a mix of fear and hope surging through me. A figure stepped inside, tall and sharp-eyed, his movements precise.

It was Kai.

I stiffened, unsure what to make of his presence. After all, he had been with Alexander. He’d stood there during my capture, cold and calculating. But now, something about the way he moved—the way his gaze swept over the room—felt different.

He approached me quickly, crouching to my level. His voice was low, urgent. “Brandon,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine, “I’m here to help you.”

I blinked, disbelief coursing through me. “What?” I rasped.

“I don’t have time to explain everything,” Kai continued. “But I’m not with Alexander. I have been loyal to the Sokolovs, Nikolai’s grandfather Ellis.”

The mention of Nikolai’s grandfather made me pause. If anyone could plant someone in Alexander’s operation, it would be him.

Kai’s voice softened, but his urgency never waned. “Your family is coming, but we don’t know if they’ll make it before the auction starts. If they don’t, I’ll get you out of here.”

Relief was a tempting emotion, but I couldn’t let it take hold. There was too much at stake.

I glanced at the others in the room, the children, the frightened faces staring at us. My chest tightened.
How could I leave them behind?

“No,” I said quietly but firmly.

Kai frowned. “Brandon, this isn’t up for negotiation. If I can only save one person, it’s going to be you.”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. If you’re working with my family, you know they’re not coming just for me,they’ll burn this place to the ground. But if something goes wrong, if they can’t get here in time...these people, Kai. They don’t have anyone else. They need you.”

“Brandon,” he hissed, his voice edged with frustration. “Do you know what you’re saying? You’d be left behind. You’d be at their mercy.”

I lifted my chin, meeting his intense gaze. “I’m not asking for a miracle. Just help them. Get them out of here. I’ll distract Alexander and the Sergeis. They won’t even realize you’re moving the others.”

Kai’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. Then his shoulders sagged slightly, and he let out a heavy breath.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, the words tinged with reluctant respect. “But fine. If this is what you want, I’ll do it. Just...try not to get yourself killed.”

A faint smile touched my lips. “I’ll do my best.”

Kai stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Keep their attention as long as you can, but don’t push it too far. Your family is on their way, Brandon. They’ll find you.”

I nodded, determination solidifying in my chest. “Just get them out,” I said, gesturing toward the captives. “That’s all that matters.”

Kai gave me a long look before stepping back toward the door. “You’re braver than you look, King,” he said quietly, then slipped out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the weight of what was to come.

I took a deep breath, the air in the room heavy and stifling. The Sergeis thought they had won, thought they had stripped me of my power. But they didn’t know me.

They didn’t know I’d never let them win.

I waited for few moments before I leave.
The door creaked slightly as I pushed it open, the faint scent of saltwater brushing past me. My heart pounded as I stepped into the dimly lit hallway. Kai already temper the cctv.
My chains had been unlocked,again courtesy of Kai, but I still let them dangle in my hand to make it look convincing.

The plan was clear:
Act like I was trying to escape, draw attention to myself, and keep them focused. Kai had taken the others out through a side route, and with any luck, they were already far away.

The hall stretched endlessly ahead, lined with ornate glass panels that revealed the dark, shifting waters beneath. The reflection of dim overhead lights danced in the ripples, mirroring the storm of nerves brewing in my chest.

I turned a corner sharply and froze.
“Tsk, tsk,” a smooth, lilting voice cut through the silence.

I spun around to see her—Tara Sergei. She leaned lazily against the wall, her auburn hair coiled neatly, her sharp eyes gleaming like a predator who had cornered its prey.

A faint smirk curved her lips as she held a cigarette between her fingers, the smoke curling like serpents in the air.

“Well, well,” she drawled, taking a slow step toward me. “Our pretty little guest thought he could make a run for it. How quaint.”

My pulse quickened, but I squared my shoulders. “Let me go,” I demanded, though my voice wavered slightly.

Tara laughed ,a rich, mocking sound that made my skin crawl. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere. And if you were, you’d have to do a lot better than this.”

Before I could react, she lunged forward with startling speed, grabbing my arm and yanking me closer. Her nails dug into my skin as she leaned down, her gaze piercing.

“You’re brave,” she murmured, her tone almost admiring. “I’ll give you that. But bravery only gets you so far in this world. You’ll learn that soon enough.”

She released me abruptly, letting me stumble back. I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself.

“You don’t scare me,” I said, though my voice cracked slightly.

Her smirk deepened. “Oh, darling, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”

Before she could say more, hurried footsteps echoed down the hall. Alexander burst onto the scene, his face a mask of anger and frustration.

“Tara!” he barked, his eyes narrowing at the sight of me. “The captives...they’re gone. All of them!”

Tara’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of cold fury. She turned back to me, her eyes narrowing.

“Well,” she said icily, “it seems our little guest here was more distracting than we thought.”

Alexander strode forward, his gaze locking onto mine. “What did you do?” he demanded, his voice low and menacing.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my mind racing for an answer that wouldn’t implicate Kai or the others. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, keeping my tone steady despite the fear clawing at my chest.

Alexander’s lips curled into a snarl. “You’ll regret this,” he hissed.

Tara stepped closer, her eyes glinting with malice. “Oh, I think it’s time we teach him what happens to meddling little boys,” she said, her voice dripping with venom.

Tara’s smirk morphed into a gleeful sneer as Alexander stepped closer to me, his movements deliberate and filled with restrained rage. “Do you think this is a game, Brandon?” he hissed, his voice low and venomous. “You cost me. Do you even understand what that means?”

I stayed silent, my breathing shallow as I tried to ground myself amidst the chaos in my mind. If I said the wrong thing, I could make this even worse for myself and for the others. But my silence only seemed to fuel his fury.

Suddenly, his hand lashed out, and a sharp, stinging pain exploded across my face. The slap sent me stumbling to the side, and I barely caught myself against the wall. The coppery tang of blood flooded my mouth as I realized my lip had split open. Blood streak drip down to my chin.

“You’re nothing,” Alexander spat. “A spoiled little boy who doesn’t understand his place.”

I felt a warm trail trickle down my cheek and realized his nails must have grazed me. My head throbbed, and my knees felt weak, but I forced myself to stand straight, meeting his gaze with all the defiance I could muster.

That only seemed to provoke him more.
Before I could react, Viktor Sergei, who had been watching silently with an unnerving calm, stepped forward. His large, rough hands closed around my throat like a vice.

My breath hitched as he lifted me slightly, slamming my back against the glass-paneled wall.

“You’re brave, I’ll give you that,” Viktor said, his voice as smooth as ice. “But bravery doesn’t keep you alive in our world.”

I clawed at his hands, gasping for air, my vision tunneling. My head collided with the wall behind me, a sharp crack reverberating through my skull. Pain shot through my temples, and I felt myself slipping, the edges of the room blurring.

As Viktor's grip tightened around my throat, the world narrowed to the sound of my own choking gasps and the pounding of blood in my ears. My hands clawed feebly at his iron-like grip, but he didn’t budge, his expression a mask of cruel satisfaction.

"Viktor, stop!" Tara's voice cut sharply through the tension, commanding attention. "We still need him. Do you want to ruin everything? Think."

Her words reached him, albeit reluctantly. Viktor’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes flicking to hers with irritation, but he loosened his grip just enough for me to drag in a wheezing breath. My vision blurred, my limbs weak and trembling.

"We don’t have time for this," Tara added, her voice cold and calculating. “We’ve already lost the others. We can’t afford to lose him, too. The auction requires its centerpiece, or we’ll have to rely solely on the next shipment.”

Viktor’s lips curled in a sneer, but he finally released me. I collapsed to the ground, clutching my throat as air rushed into my lungs in ragged gasps. My head spun, and I barely registered Alexander crouching near me again, his face twisted into a mockery of pity.

"You should thank her, Brandon," he sneered, gesturing lazily to Tara. “She just saved your life. For now.”

I coughed, the taste of blood lingering in my mouth, and shot him a weak glare. He only smirked, standing and brushing nonexistent dust off his tailored suit.

"Take him back," Alexander ordered, his tone dismissive. "Put him somewhere dark and quiet to think about his actions."

Guards hauled me up roughly by the arm, and I stumbled as they dragged me down the hallway. My legs barely cooperated, each step sending sharp jolts of pain through my body. The lights around me blurred into streaks, and my head throbbed relentlessly from the earlier impact.

The room they shoved me into was pitch black and stifling. The air smelled of damp stone and metal, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed somewhere distant.

The door slammed shut behind me, the sound of the lock turning sealing my isolation.

I staggered forward a few steps before sinking to the cold floor, my body giving out. My breaths came in shallow, uneven bursts as I tried to gather my thoughts. But my mind was a disoriented mess, the sharp ache in my skull making it hard to focus.

Through the haze, fragments of their conversation floated back to me. “We’ll have to rely on the next shipment.” That had to stop.

I pressed my back against the wall, the cold stone grounding me slightly. My fingers brushed against the injured side of my lip, coming away sticky with blood.

No matter how broken or disoriented I felt, I couldn’t let this end here. I had to hold on for my family, for everyone who needed me. For Nikolai.

Somewhere in the darkness, I whispered to myself, "They’re coming for me. They have to be."

Chapter Text

Nikolai’s POV

The roar of the jet’s engines faded as we touched down on the private airstrip not far from the island where that bastard had supposedly took my lotus flower. My chest was tight, my thoughts racing as I stared out the window at the glimmer of the distant glass building over the water.

Somewhere in that place was Brandon. He was waiting for us,probably terrified, hurt, and yet holding on because that’s who he was. My lotus flower, always resilient.

“We don’t waste time,” my dad’s voice snapped me back to the present. He was already halfway down the aisle, his long strides purposeful as he barked orders into his phone. Mom followed, her expression icy and unreadable.

Landon was close behind, silent for once, though the tension radiating off him was palpable. His hands flexed at his sides, and the storm in his eyes betrayed the calm mask he tried to wear.

Behind us, the Kings disembarked. Aiden King was stone-faced, his eyes hard as he whispered something to Eli,who nodded once, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Jonathan king also joined us whispering something like no one gets to live a day on this earth after harming his precious and 'only ' sane grandson.

I didn’t wait for anyone else. As soon as the doors opened, I was out, the salty breeze hitting me like a slap. The humid air carried a sense of foreboding that only worsened the closer we got.

At the end of the tarmac, several black SUVs waited. But what caught my attention wasn’t the cars,it was the group of figures standing by them.

“Morozovs,” dad muttered under his breath, his tone full of relief.

Kirill Morozov, head of another powerful Bratva faction, stood tall, his imposing frame wrapped in a pristine suit despite the tropical heat. Sasha exuded an air of quiet authority, her sharp eyes scanning each of us as though calculating every possible outcome of this mission.

But it was Vaughn, my friend, who approached first, his usual smirk replaced with a grim determination.
“Timing couldn’t be better,” Vaughn said, his voice smooth but tinged with tension. He extended a hand toward me.

“Vaughn,” I greeted curtly, shaking his hand firmly. “Thank you for coming.”

“You think we’d sit this one out?” Vaughn’s tone was almost offended. “Not when one of ours is involved. Family looks after family.”

That word ,family, struck a chord in me. Brandon wasn’t just my fiancé; he was the light in my otherwise dark world. Every second he was in Alexander’s grasp felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

Uncle Kirill stepped forward, his voice low and commanding. “We’ve positioned men around the perimeter of the island. Alexander and Sergeis won’t know what hit them. But we need to move quickly.”

Eli nodded. “We can’t underestimate Alexander. He’s desperate, and desperate men don’t think rationally.”

“He’ll be expecting us to make a mistake,” Landon muttered, his voice colder than I’d ever heard it. “We don’t give him that chance.”

I clenched my fists, the faint sting of my nails digging into my palms grounding me. “He won’t see tomorrow,” I said flatly.

The group exchanged glances, but no one questioned me. They all knew what was at stake.

We piled into the SUVs, the convoy speeding toward the dock where boats waited to take us across to the island. Dad glanced back at me from the passenger seat, his expression unreadable. “Stay focused, Nikolai. We need everyone sharp for this.”

I met his gaze, my voice steady but cold. “I won’t lose him, Dad. Not now. Not ever.”

Landon, seated next to me, glanced out at the island. His fists clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might explode. Instead, he muttered under his breath, “He has no idea who he’s dealing with.”

“Neither do the Sergeis,” I replied, my voice low but deadly.

As the island loomed closer, its glass structure glinting ominously in the moonlight, I tightened my grip on the pistol in my lap.

~

The night was oppressive, heavy with the weight of anticipation. I stood on the edge of the dock, the distant glass building glowing like a beacon of malice over the vast, dark water. Every nerve in my body was coiled, every breath slow and deliberate.

This wasn’t just another mission. This was Brandon’s life on the line.

The last few hours had been a blur of calculated planning, frantic coordination, and gathering resources. My mom was as sharp and commanding as ever, her influence weaving through our Bratva alliances like a spider threading its web.

Dad was the steady hand, his sniper instincts shaping every strategic decision. The Morozovs brought muscle and cunning,with their ruthless precision, and Vaughn, the quiet but lethal shadow at their side.

The Kings were equally formidable. They were quiet and calculating, rarely spoke but exuded authority. Even Landon, with his volcanic energy barely held in check, moved with purpose. But his eyes,stormy and intense,betrayed his desperation.

I couldn’t think about Landon now. Not his pain, not his guilt. All I could think about was Brandon.

“Let’s move,” uncle Kirill ’s voice cut through the night like a whip.

We boarded the small crafts that would take us across the water, the engines silent and the waves whispering against the hulls. The glass building loomed larger as we approached, its structure gleaming and unnatural against the vast emptiness of the night.

My heart hammered in my chest as i crouched by the edge of the dock, waiting for the signal. The night was still, almost suffocating, the quiet broken only by the faint sound of the waves lapping against the boats

Once ashore, we moved like ghosts, our presence swallowed by the dark. Vaughn and Landon took point, their movements fluid and precise. I was just behind them, my focus razor-sharp, my heart pounding in time with every step.

Grandpa’s commanding voice cut through the tense atmosphere as he spoke into the comms. “Everyone in position. This has to be clean. No mistakes.” His tone was sharp, a reminder of the stakes they faced.

Aiden King was close by, his eyes sharp as he assessed the scene. Eli and Jonathan, stationed slightly farther back, were working furiously on a tablet, their expressions grim as they synchronized their tech with the live feed from the infiltrated cameras.

“Perimeter clear,” Eli said softly, his voice calm despite the tension. “Guards are scattered, no patterns to suggest reinforcements yet.”

I nodded, shifting my focus back to the glass structure. Every part of me screamed to charge in, to find Brandon and tear apart anyone who dared to lay a hand on him. But years of training and grandpa’s voice in my ear held me back.

Landon, however, was a different story. His breathing was shallow, his eyes locked on the building like a predator stalking its prey.
“Landon,” i whispered, my voice low.
“We’ll get him. You need to hold it together.”

Landon didn’t respond immediately. His hand tightened on his weapon before he finally spoke, his voice rough and barely audible. “I’m holding it together, but every second we wait...”

Grandpa's voice interrupted over the comms, his voice steady. “Go. First team, secure the entrance. Second team, sweep the perimeters. No one leaves until we have Brandon.”

The order was like a trigger. I surge forward with Landon at my side, our steps swift and silent. The team moved as one, each member a piece of the lethal machine that was the Kings, Sokolovs, and their allies.

The guards were our first obstacle, but they were woefully unprepared. Their arrogance was their downfall, and their deaths were swift. Vaughn moved like a predator, his silenced weapon a deadly extension of his will. My mom blade flashed once, twice, and another guard crumpled without a sound.

Landon, his rage barely restrained, dispatched two guards with a single, brutal motion, his movements almost poetic in their efficiency.

We pressed forward, each corner of the building meticulously cleared. Every door we breached was another step closer to Brandon, another heartbeat closer to the unknown.

The interior of the mansion was pristine, almost clinical, its walls gleaming under the dim lights. The faint scent of cleaning chemicals lingered, masking something darker beneath.

“Stay sharp,” mom whispered, her voice barely audible but cutting through the tension like a knife.

I nodded, my grip tightening on the weapon in my hand. My grandpa signaled for me to take the next corridor, and I moved without hesitation, Landon right behind me.

The sound of footsteps echoed faintly ahead, and we paused, pressing against the wall. Vaughn gestured silently, and we flanked the corridor, our weapons trained on the approaching figures.

Two guards turned the corner, their expressions shifting to shock a moment too late. Vaughn’s shot dropped one instantly, while Landon dispatched the other with a brutal strike.

No words were exchanged. None were needed.

We reached the heart of the mansion, the building’s layout becoming clearer with every step. The deeper we went, the more fortified the structure became, and the more my dread grew.

“This is too quiet,” Landon muttered under his breath.

He wasn’t wrong.

Aiden’s voice broke through their tension. “Focus. We’ve got movement ahead.”

We turned a corner, weapons raised, only to find an empty corridor. But something felt off. My instincts screamed at me to move faster, to find Brandon before it was too late.

As we regrouped in a side room, Jonathan king held up his comm device, showing a live feed from a camera near the back of the building.

“There,” he said, pointing.

My heart nearly stopped. The grainy footage showed a group of figures gathered in a stark, brightly lit room. At the center of the frame, restrained and surrounded, was Brandon.

His head was down, his shoulders slumped, but he was alive.

“Brandon,” i whispered, my throat tightening.

Landon pushed forward, his voice low and dangerous. “We’re going now.”

“No,” grandpa said firmly, stepping into the room with the authority of a man who’d commanded armies. “We do this strategically. Rushing in gets him killed.”

Landon rounded on him, his expression wild. “He’s my twin. You think I’m just going to sit here and wait while they...”

Grandpa silenced him with a glare that could stop a freight train. “You’ll follow orders, Landon. Or you’ll compromise this entire operation.”

The room fell silent as everyone braced for the final move. The glass structure glowed ominously, its light spilling onto the dark water like a sinister beacon.

And then grandpa spoke, his voice like steel. “Move.”

We advanced, our resolve like iron, steps purposeful. Every second felt like an eternity as we closed the distance, the weight of what we were about to face pressing down on us.

But there was no turning back.

I stepped forward, my heart pounding as I reached for the door. Landon wasn't beside me and i didn't even when he slipped back into dark and moved like shadows.i pushed the doors open.

Inside was a large, open space, its walls made entirely of glass. The room was empty, but the view was staggering—the dark water stretched endlessly on all sides, the moonlight reflecting off its surface like shattered glass.

But my eyes weren’t on the view. They were on the figures in the center of it which made my blood run cold.

Chapter Text

Alexander’s POV

The air in the glass building was tense, a sharp contrast to the elegance of its design. It should have been a night of triumph, a culmination of plans that had been years in the making. Instead, it was slipping from my grasp like grains of sand through my fingers.

Brandon sat in the corner of the dimly lit room, his disheveled appearance a testament to the chaos earlier. A split lip marred his otherwise angelic face, a faint trickle of blood trailing from the corner.

The scratch on his cheek was shallow, but the redness surrounding it added a cruel touch. His neck bore faint bruises from Viktor’s overzealous grip, and though the marks were fresh, they whispered of violence restrained only at the last moment. His head lolled slightly, his movements sluggish, likely from the concussion he sustained when his skull met the unyielding wall.

Despite it all, there was a stubbornness in his gaze, a spark that even pain couldn’t extinguish.

“Do you even realize the position you’re in, boy?” I taunted, leaning closer. My voice was calm, almost kind,a deliberate juxtaposition to the threat in my words.

Brandon didn’t reply, his lips pressed into a thin line. His silence was infuriating.

Tara, the ever-watchful hawk of our operation, stood nearby, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowing on Brandon. “He’s still got fight in him,” she murmured, her tone laced with mock admiration. “For someone who should be broken by now, he’s remarkably defiant.”

Viktor growled lowly, flexing his massive hands as though already itching for another chance to subdue the boy. “Let me deal with him properly this time. We don’t need him pristine for the auction.”

“No,” I snapped, my voice sharp. “He’s our ace now. With the other captives gone, he’s our sole leverage.”

The mention of the escape still burned. Especially her.
Those brats slipping through our fingers was a humiliation I wouldn’t forget, but Brandon was the crown jewel, the prize that would still salvage the night.

Or so I thought.

The room was quiet, save for the low murmurs of our planning. The Sergeis moved like a well-oiled machine, organizing the final touches for the auction. Viktor loomed nearby, his restless energy a ticking time bomb. Tara occasionally checked on Brandon, ensuring he was alive until he is presented to our buyers then they can do whatever they want.

None of us noticed the shift outside.
The glass building stood as a beacon against the dark waters, its brilliance unmatched in the desolate surroundings. It was our fortress, our stronghold,until it wasn’t.

It began subtly; the flicker of lights, the faint tremor of hurried footsteps echoing in the distance. At first, I dismissed it as the usual bustle of preparation. But then came the silence. A silence so profound it pressed against my ears like a scream.
Tara’s sharp gaze snapped to mine. “Do you hear that?”

Before I could respond, the door to the room burst open, one of our guards staggering inside, clutching his side. Blood seeped through his fingers, his face pale with terror.

“They’re here,” he gasped. “The Bratva...Kings...they’ve infiltrated...”

He didn’t finish his sentence. A single, sharp crack echoed, and he crumpled to the floor. Viktor stepped over the body, his face twisted in fury.

“How?” Viktor snarled, his voice a guttural growl. “How did they breach us?”

Tara cursed under her breath. Her composure cracked for the first time, her usual air of superiority replaced with urgency. “They’ve probably had informants. Damn it!”

Then she looked at me with a foreign look.
I understood this look of desperate that they have now. I know they are planning to leave and run to their other alliances but escape from The bratva was impossible. Especially when we dared to took one of them.

But I couldn’t move, my mind racing. Every scenario, every contingency plan I had created, unraveled before me. The Bratva alliances and the Sokolovs were formidable enough alone. Add the Kings to the mix, and it was a lethal storm heading directly for us.

And they would stop at nothing to reclaim their boy.

My eyes flicked to the said boy, who seemed barely aware of the chaos.

“Get him out of here,” I ordered, my voice cold. “Take him to the secure wing and lock it down. Do not let them get to him.”

The guard hesitated. “And if they reach us?”

“Then we ensure they find nothing but corpses,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.

But deep down, a sliver of unease crept in. For the first time in years, I wasn’t sure if I could win.

The building trembled with the force of my undoing. Gunfire echoed through the corridors like a relentless drumbeat, punctuated by shouts and the screams of those foolish enough to cross the Bratva and the Kings. I had underestimated them...grossly so. And now, my empire was crumbling around me.

The Sergeis, those spineless fools, just as i thought, had tried to flee the moment the tide turned. Viktor was the first to bolt, dragging Tara with him in a desperate bid to save their miserable lives. But escape was a fleeting fantasy. The alliances outside had their traps laid, and even if the Sergeis managed to reach the perimeter, they’d be caught like rats.

Cowards.

I was alone now, save for Brandon King.

So went to the room in which the boy was kept who was slumped in a chair, his wrists bound, his breathing shallow but steady. His disorientation worked in my favor; he wouldn’t be able to fight me, not that he ever had a chance. Yet, even now, as I stared at him, I could see the fire in his eyes, diminished but not extinguished.

The walls of the glass building groaned, as though protesting the weight of my failure. I cursed under my breath. My backup plan was risky, reckless even, but it was all I had left. I just have to make out of this building alive.

“Get up,” I snarled, grabbing Brandon by the arm and dragging him to his feet. He stumbled, barely able to stand, but I kept him upright. His defiance was gone, replaced by a fog of confusion, yet he still managed to glare at me.

“Where… where are you taking me?” he mumbled, his words slurring.

“To ensure I don’t lose everything,” I hissed.

I maneuvered him toward the most vulnerable point of the building, a section where the glass walls stretched from floor to ceiling, offering a panoramic view of the dark waters below. It was beautiful in its fragility, a poetic location for a final stand.

They were nearly upon us. I could hear the distinct cadence of their footsteps, their sharp, precise movements. They were methodical, like predators closing in on their prey.

But I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Using Brandon as a shield, I positioned myself so his body blocked mine, my arm wrapped tightly around his neck. He winced, his breath hitching, but he didn’t struggle. Not that he could in his condition.

The first to appear was Nikolai Sokolov, his silhouette cutting through the dim light like a blade. His expression was a storm of fury and desperation, his eyes locked on Brandon. Behind him, the others emerged, the Sokolovs, the Morozovs, and the Kings. Their combined presence was overwhelming, a force of nature that threatened to crush me.

“Let him go,” Nikolai growled, his voice low and deadly.

“Stay back!” I barked, pressing a knife to Brandon’s throat. “One more step, and I slit his throat. I swear I will!”

The tension was suffocating, the air crackling with unspoken threats. I knew I couldn’t hold them off forever, but I also knew they wouldn’t risk Brandon’s life.

This was my last stand. I wouldn’t leave this building alive, but if I was going down, I would make damn sure they never forgot me.

"Let’s see how far you're willing to go for him,” I taunted, tightening my grip on Brandon. His soft whimper of pain was like a symphony to my ears.

Chapter Text

Landon’s POV

The scene before me burned into my mind like a brand, searing and unforgiving.

Brandon,my other half ,as barely standing, his body slumped in Alexander’s grip, the bastard's knife pressed so close to his throat that a thin line of blood had already formed. His lips were split, his cheek marred by scratches, and dark bruises shadowed his neck. Yet even in his fragile state, there was something about him that still screamed defiance.

But it didn’t matter how strong he looked. He was on the verge of collapse, and it was killing me.

I stayed in the shadows, my breathing shallow but my heart pounding like a war drum. My fingers itched to act, to tear Alexander apart, but I couldn’t afford a mistake. I couldn’t afford to fail him. My eyes darted to Kyle, positioned above on the upper floor in his perfect hidden spot, rifle steady and focused.

One shot,that’s all it would take.
But not yet. Not until Brandon was safe.

“Stay back!” Alexander snarled, his voice cutting through the tension. His eyes darted between Nikolai, the Morozovs, and the rest of the family that had gathered, all frozen in place, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. “I’ll kill him. Don’t think I won’t.”

“You won’t make it out alive,” Nikolai growled, taking a step forward.

“Won’t I?” Alexander’s smirk was vile, his arrogance a shield as much as Brandon’s body was. “Do you have any idea how many alliances I’ve made? If I fall, war will erupt, and all of you will pay the price. Your families, your power, everything will burn.”

Nikolai’s grandfather, Ellis, stepped forward with a calm that could chill a man’s blood. His voice was measured, deliberate. “You overestimate your value, Alexander. The alliances you speak of will turn on you the moment I expose the truth.”

Alexander’s smirk faltered for the first time, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. “You’re bluffing.”

Ellis shook his head, the faintest hint of disdain in his expression. “Am I? You’ve broken the most sacred rule of our world. Human trafficking.” His voice dipped, each word a nail in Alexander’s coffin. “When they find out you’ve been selling lives like cattle, they’ll tear you apart themselves. You’ll be nothing but a stain on the legacy you tried to build.”

Alexander’s grip tightened on Brandon, his knuckles white with strain. My twin groaned, a soft sound of pain that sliced through me like a knife. I clenched my fists, willing myself not to lunge, not to do anything reckless.

From my vantage point, I could see the panic starting to creep into Alexander’s posture. His breaths were quicker now, his eyes darting around as though searching for an escape. I tracked every movement, my instincts screaming that this was the moment to act.

But where could he flee when we even captured the Sergeis and dragged them here ,who were now kneeling in front of us.

Kyle’s voice crackled faintly in our earpiece. “Not yet,” he murmured.

Not yet. But soon.

Brandon shifted slightly, his head lolling to one side. His voice, weak but defiant, broke the silence. “You won’t win.”

Alexander sneered, yanking him closer. “We’ll see about that.”

It was time. I took a deep breath, steadied myself, and moved like a shadow, inching closer to the edge of the chaos. My twin needed me, and nothing,not even hell itself,would keep me from saving him.

Alexander’s sneer deepened, his confidence returning like a venomous tide. “You don’t have proof,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “You have nothing but accusations. Wild stories without evidence. What do you think the Bratva will believe? Me, with years of loyalty, or you, with empty words?”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Ellis’s jaw tightened, a rare display of frustration flickering in his composed demeanor. Nikolai’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

"We wouldn't need any prove if i kill you now" Nikolai said,his voice anguish.

My chest burned with the fury of helplessness as I stayed rooted in the shadows, my eyes locked on my twin. Brandon was barely upright, swaying in Alexander’s grasp, his pale face streaked with blood and sweat. And yet...

There was something in his eyes.

It was faint, but it was there,a spark of determination cutting through the haze of pain and exhaustion. My breath caught as he parted his lips, his voice raw and broken, yet carrying a strength I hadn’t heard since this nightmare began.

“Be...Belize...” he croaked, his words slurred but audible.

Everyone froze.

“Solstice,” he rasped again, his voice hoarse, but the words clear enough to send a shockwave through the room. “Midnight...Southern Dock.”

For a moment, the only sound was the echo of his voice fading into the tense air.
Then chaos erupted.

Nikolai’s eyes widened in disbelief, his lips parting as though to speak, but no words came. Ellis stepped forward, his usually unflappable demeanor faltering as the weight of Brandon’s revelation settled over him. The Morozovs exchanged sharp glances, their expressions a mixture of astonishment and fury.

But it was Alexander’s reaction that seized my attention.

His grip on Brandon tightened, his knuckles blanching as his face twisted in shock and rage. “You...” he began, but his words faltered as Brandon’s head lolled forward, his body slackening further.

“You...” Alexander hissed, realization dawning in his eyes. “You are really something,aren't you? I underestimated you”

Brandon didn’t answer, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. But he didn’t need to. The damage was already done.

Rai exclaimed voice, steady and ice-cold. “It seems we don’t need proof after all, Alexander. Brandon just gave us everything we need.”

My chest swelled with pride and anguish in equal measure. My twin,my precious, infuriating, brave twin had handed us the key to dismantling Alexander’s empire, even at his weakest.

But my pride was overshadowed by the urgent need to act. Alexander was unraveling, his desperation palpable, and I knew a cornered animal was always the most dangerous.

Kyle’s voice buzzed faintly in my earpiece. “We need to end this. Now.”

I tightened my grip on my weapon, my rage boiling over. Alexander wouldn’t touch Brandon again. He wouldn’t even breathe in his direction.

This ends tonight.

Then i saw Alexander’s smirk,a chill ran down my spine. His words were calculated, dripping with venom. “If I’m not going to win,” he sneered, his grip on Brandon tightening, “then I won’t let any of you win either. I’ll take the most precious thing in your world away.”

Time seemed to freeze.

Brandon’s limp form swayed in Alexander’s grasp, his head barely lifting. My brother,the brightest light in my world,was being used as a pawn in this sadistic game. The smirk on Alexander’s face, the gleam in his eyes ,it was a predator's final, desperate act.

Nikolai moved first. “No!” he shouted, his voice a roar of pure panic. He lunged forward, but Ellis held him back with a grip of iron. Nikolai’s eyes were wild, his fury barely contained. “You touch him, and I swear—”

I didn’t wait for threats or bargaining. My mind was already racing, calculating every possible angle. Alexander had nowhere to run, no way to escape, but his desperation made him even more lethal. He was a cornered beast, ready to lash out.

Kyle’s voice crackled in my earpiece, steady but urgent. “I’ve got a clear shot. But if he moved even slightly...”

“No,” I snapped, my voice low but firm.

“Not yet.” A single shot could end Alexander, but it could also endanger Brandon. His position as a shield was too precarious, too close to Alexander’s own chest.

Instead,I stepped into the spotlight, every nerve on edge, my hands raised to show I wasn’t a threat,at least not yet.

“Alexander,” I said, my voice calm but loaded with intent. “Let him go. You’ve made your point. If it’s revenge you want, take me instead.”

Alexander’s head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing in disbelief before his lips curled into a cruel smirk. “Well, well,” he drawled. “If it isn’t the ghost of Landon King. I must say, I didn’t expect to see you here, alive and breathing. What an unexpected twist.”

He continued, “The brother in the shadows. Always watching, never acting. Do you really think you can intimidate me now?”

“I don’t need to intimidate you,” I replied, my eyes boring into his. “I just need to remind you of one thing: you’ve already lost. Your empire is crumbling. Your allies are gone. And now, you’re nothing but a rat in a trap.”

Alexander’s smirk twisted into a snarl, his grip on Brandon shifting. My twin flinched, a soft gasp escaping him as Alexander’s arm pressed harder against his neck.

My heart pounded, but I forced myself to stay calm. “If you think taking Brandon from us will give you the last laugh, you’re wrong,” I continued, my voice steady. “It’ll only seal your fate. The Bratva will hunt you to the ends of the earth, and there won’t be a place left for you to hide.”

Behind me, Nikolai was trembling with barely contained fury, his fingers flexing as though itching to wrap around Alexander’s throat. Others were silent but poised, their weapons trained on Alexander.

But it was Brandon’s voice, hoarse and barely audible, that cut through the tension. “Lan...” he whispered, his head tilting slightly toward me.

My resolve hardened. My twin had fought to give us the information we needed, even at his weakest. Now it was my turn to protect him, no matter the cost.

Alexander’s smirk faltered again, his confidence eroding. He knew he was outmatched. But that only made him more dangerous.

Brandon’s head jerked up weakly,his gaze though clouded and unfocused, locked onto me. “Lan?” he croaked, his voice trembling with confusion. “You’re... alive?”

I didn’t let my expression falter, though hearing my twin’s disbelief cut deeper than any blade. “I am here, bran...” I said, keeping my focus on Alexander. “And I’m here to end this. Let him go, Alex. You’ve lost.”

Alexander’s laugh was sharp and bitter. “Oh, I haven’t lost, Landon. Not yet. But I’ll admit, this is quite the development. You’ve been hiding, haven’t you? Letting your family think you’re dead? What a clever little game.”

“Enough,” I said, taking a step closer, my movements deliberate and unthreatening.

“You’re cornered, Alexander. There’s nowhere left to run. Let my brother go, and I’ll take his place. You want to hurt the Kings? Hurt me.”

Alexander’s smirk faltered, doubt flickering in his eyes. “You’d sacrifice yourself for him? How touching. But tell me, Landon, why should I trade something as precious as your brother for someone as expendable as you?”

“You know why,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous low. “I’m the one you’ve always wanted to break. Brandon was just your pawn. I’m the prize, Alexander. So take me.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the barest flicker of movement of Nikolai, signaling to Brandon. My brother, even in his weakened state, seemed to register it.
His body tensed, preparing to act.

Alexander, too absorbed in his taunts, didn’t notice. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Landon? But let me tell you something...”

Before he could finish, Brandon moved, twisting with a surge of strength I didn’t know he still possessed. His heel drove into Alexander’s knee, making him stumble.

“Now!” Nikolai’s voice rang out.

The crack of Kyle’s rifle echoed through the room, the shot landing true. Alexander’s body jerked, his grip on Brandon loosening but not completely gone.

The fragile glass beneath Alexander and Brandon groaned ominously with every sudden movement. Hairline cracks spiderwebbed outward, each one a warning of the danger beneath their feet.

My breath hitched as I saw Brandon sway, barely able to stand, his knees buckling under the weight of exhaustion and pain.

Alexander’s face twisted into something feral, his desperation palpable as he clung to Brandon like a lifeline. He had nothing left to lose and everything to destroy.

And the fragile glass… the glass couldn’t take it.

A deafening crack split the air as the section of the building they stood on began to collapse. The sound of shattering glass mingled with Brandon’s startled gasp and Alexander’s enraged shout.

I didn’t think,I couldn’t afford to. My body moved on instinct, adrenaline propelling me forward.

“Bran!” I roared, my voice tearing through the chaos as I lunged for him.

Alexander, even in his dying moments, refused to let go. His grip on Brandon tightened, and with his last ounce of strength, he dragged my twin along with him toward the gaping void where the glass had given way. Brandon stumbled, his weakened legs unable to resist.

“No!” I surged forward, my hand latching onto Brandon’s arm just as his body tipped toward the edge. The slick warmth of blood coated my grip, but I refused to let go.

Alexander’s weight pulled them both down, his sneer etched into his face even as his life ebbed away. “If I go,” he snarled, “he goes with me!”

“Over my dead body,” I hissed, wrenching Brandon back with everything I had.

The glass continued to shatter around us, shards raining like deadly rain.

Suddenly a sharp knife sliced through Alexander’s arm making him loose his grip on my brother. I saw as Nikolai again struck that knife into Alexander but this time into his neck.
With one final, desperate yank, I tore Brandon from Alexander’s grasp, the momentum sending us both crashing backward onto more stable ground.

Alexander’s scream was swallowed by the void as his body plunged into the dark waters below, disappearing with a sickening splash.

Brandon collapsed against me, his body limp, his breathing shallow. His face was pale, his lips trembling as he whispered, “Lan…”

“I’m here,” I said, cradling him against my chest as if he might slip away if I didn’t hold tight enough. My voice cracked with the weight of relief and terror. “I’ve got you, Bran. I’ve got you.”

The room was a cacophony of shouts and footsteps and the others rushed forward, but I barely registered them. My entire world had narrowed to the fragile, precious person in my arms.

Aiden's POV

The moment Alexander disappeared into the dark waters below, the tension in the air didn’t dissipate,it transformed.

The chaos ebbed, but a new kind of urgency took its place. My eyes shifted to the twins, and I felt my chest tighten.

Brandon was cradled against Landon’s chest, limp and pale, his usually vibrant presence reduced to this fragile, unconscious state.

Landon’s face,so often marked with that infuriating smirk and cocky arrogance,was unrecognizable. Desperation and terror carved deep lines into his expression. His arms encased his twin as if letting go would mean losing him forever.

I took a step forward, but Landon’s eyes snapped to me, wild and feral. “Don’t,” he barked, his voice raw, his tone edged with a warning I hadn’t heard since he was a boy. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Landon,” I started, keeping my voice calm despite the tightness in my throat, “Brandon needs help. Let us...”

“I said don’t!” His voice cracked, and his grip on Brandon tightened. His body hunched over his twin as if shielding him from the world, his every movement vibrating with panic. “nobody gets any closure...”

Rai moved forward, her maternal instinct blazing in her eyes, but Kyle gently touched her arm, holding her back.

Even Nikolai, who was usually the first to push past any barrier when it came to Brandon, stood frozen.
His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw taut, but he didn’t dare move closer. He seemed to understand what we all did:

Landon was beyond reason right now.

“Lan,” I said softly, crouching slightly to meet his frantic gaze. “Look at me.”

He didn’t respond, his attention darting between Brandon’s face and everyone else in the room like a cornered animal. His breaths were shallow, his chest rising and falling in quick bursts.

“You’re scared,” I continued, keeping my tone steady. “I know you are. You just saw your twin on the verge of...” My throat tightened, but I forced the words out. “You almost lost him. But Lan, he needs help. We can’t just sit here.”

For a moment, it looked like my words might reach him. His gaze softened, flickering with doubt. Then Brandon let out a faint whimper, and Landon’s grip tightened like a vise. “He stays with me,”

He whispered, more to himself than to any of us. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll fix this.”

“Landon,” Kyle said, stepping forward cautiously, calmness evident in his measured movements. “You’re not helping him by keeping him from us. We need to check his injuries. He might have a concussion or worse.”

“I said no!” Landon growled, his voice breaking with emotion. “No one touches him. No one.”

It was painful to watch. Landon was unraveling, his facade of control crumbling as the weight of the moment bore down on him. Brandon, oblivious to it all, lay limp in his arms, his head lolling against Landon’s shoulder.

Finally, Nikolai spoke, his voice low and firm. “Landon. I know you are scared. We all are. But he need us. We are his family.”

The words hung in the air, and it seemed like those words didn’t even reach Lan. He said, “And he’s my twin. My other half. You don’t know what it’s like to feel someone slipping away like that and know that if they go, you’ll never be whole again.”

The silence that followed was heavy, charged with emotion. No one dared to argue.

“Lan,” I said again, softer this time. “Let us help you help him. He’s still breathing. He’s still here. But he needs medical help. He is still bleeding. Baby, even you are bleeding.”

Landon’s breathing hitched, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He hesitated, and in that brief pause, Brandon stirred weakly, his head shifting against Landon’s chest.

That tiny movement shattered whatever resolve Landon had left. His shoulders slumped, and he let out a shaky breath. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “But I’m not leaving him.”

“No one’s asking you to,” Rai said gently, stepping forward at last. “Stay with him, Lan. Just let us take care of him.”

Slowly, reluctantly, Landon allowed us closer, though his arms never fully left Brandon. As we worked to assess Brandon’s injuries, Landon stayed by his side, his hand never leaving his twin’s, his fierce protectiveness undiminished.

In that moment, I realized something: Landon wasn’t just protecting his brother’s life. He was protecting his own heart. Because losing Brandon would mean losing himself.

Kyle's gesture to Nikolai was subtle but firm, his expression urging the younger man to act. Nikolai nodded, understanding the unspoken words. He stepped forward, his movements deliberate as he approached Brandon’s unconscious form still cradled tightly in Landon’s trembling arms.

“Lan,” Nikolai said gently, crouching beside him. “I’m going to carry him to the car. You’ll still be right beside him, but we need to get him help. Please, you have to trust me. He is more dear to me than my own life”

Landon didn’t respond at first, his knuckles white as he clutched Brandon closer. He was clearly reluctant to let go.His entire body was trembling, every muscle taut as if releasing his grip would shatter him.

Kyle knelt beside him, his calm presence grounding. “Lan,” he said quietly, his sniper's tone steady and unwavering. “Let Nikolai carry Bran. You’ve done enough. It’s okay to lean on us now.”

Landon's gaze flickered between Brandon’s pale face and Kyle’s reassuring eyes. His lips parted as if to argue, but no words came out. After a long, agonizing pause, he gave the smallest nod and let Nikolai take Brandon from his arms.

The moment Brandon was lifted, Landon crumpled, his strength giving out entirely.
Uncle Jonathan was at his side in an instant, his hands firm yet gentle as he helped Landon to his feet. “Come on, son,” Jonathan said, his voice thick with emotion. “Let’s get you both to safety.”

With his support, Landon staggered toward the car, his legs barely cooperating. He kept glancing back at Nikolai, who was already carefully settling Brandon in the backseat, cradling him as if he were made of glass.

As the rest of us followed, the urgency of the situation pressed heavily on us. The decision was unanimous: we couldn’t risk traveling far with Brandon in such a fragile state. The Bratva mansion in Russia, much closer to the island than any of our estates, was the only logical choice.

Its state of the art facilities and security would provide the care and safety the twins desperately needed.

“Eli, Vaughn,” Rai said as we reached the vehicles. “You two are on the shipment Bran mentioned. We need that information verified immediately,it could be the key to ending this for good.”

Eli nodded sharply, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by a deadly seriousness. Vaughn exchanged a glance with his parents before joining Eli, both of them ready to take on their mission.

Meanwhile, Nikolai’s grandfather, Ellis, was already on the phone, his sharp voice cutting through the tension . “Kai, Join us in Russia,” he commanded. “We’ll need a detailed account of everything you’ve uncovered.”
The other bratva members stayed behind to deal with the Sergeis. Their efficiency and ruthlessness left no doubt that the Sergeis wouldn’t be a problem for much longer.

As for me, I took it upon myself to collect every scrap of evidence from the glass building. The security footage, though likely compromised, was too valuable to leave behind. If there was even a hint of something we could use against Alexander’s remaining network, I wasn’t going to miss it.

By the time we were all in motion, the weight of the night pressed heavily on my shoulders. Landon sat silently in the car, his head resting back as if the sheer exhaustion of the ordeal was catching up to him.

We drove in tense silence, the dark horizon ahead offering little comfort. This wasn’t over,not by a long shot,but for now, every decision, every action, every breath was focused on one goal: keeping our family safe.

Chapter Text

Nikolai’s POV

The morning light filtered through the grand windows of the Bratva mansion, but the warmth of the sun felt like an insult to the storm raging within me. Last night had been the most harrowing of my life, and its echoes were far from over.

We had made it to the Bratva stronghold in Russia, a fortress of stone and power that now bore witness to our collective despair.

Kai had joined us shortly after we arrived, his face grim but resolute. He spilled everything he knew,everything Brandon had endured. My stomach twisted with fury and helplessness as he described how Bran, even in his captivity, had the courage to beg him to save the children before the auction.

It was a level of selflessness that was uniquely Bran, and yet it infuriated me. How could he think so little of his own safety? How could he put himself in danger for strangers? And yet, it was precisely this boundless compassion that made him who he was, the reason we all fought so hard to save him.

Kai’s words weren’t enough. We needed to know what had happened after he left. The bruises on Bran’s neck, the blood on his lip, the gash on his head, all of it demanded answers. So we turned to the CCTV footage we had salvaged from the glass building.

I wish we hadn’t.

The screen illuminated the room in a cold glow, the silence around us growing heavier with each passing second. Bran appeared on the footage, his hands bound, his body restrained. He looked so small, so fragile. And yet, even then, his spirit was unmistakable. He stood tall, even when they hurt him.

Alexander’s hand struck him across the face, the force of the blow whipping Bran’s head to the side. My jaw clenched so tightly that I thought it might break. The scratch that marred his cheek was visible now, a cruel mark of Alexander’s malice.

When Viktor wrapped his hands around Bran’s throat, I had to leave the room. I stormed to the nearest wall, punching it with enough force to leave a crack.

The room behind me was no less volatile, Landon’s voice rang out in a guttural cry of rage, Jonathan’s hand clamping down on his shoulder to keep him from shattering completely.

The footage continued without me, but I didn’t need to see it. The sounds, the muffled cries, the crash of Bran’s head against the wall told me everything.

When the recording ended, the air in the room was suffocating. No one spoke, but the fury was palpable. Alexander and the Sergeis had crossed a line that no one in the Bratva could ignore.

Bran’s bravery hadn’t just saved those children. His actions had revealed the Sergeis’ true nature to the Bratva. Their trafficking operation, their betrayal of the sacred rules of our world, it was all laid bare. And with that revelation came the full force of the Bratva, united against Alexander and his pathetic allies.

The shipment Bran had whispered about, the one that could have made Alexander untouchable ,had been intercepted. Thanks to Bran, we had stopped it. Thanks to Bran, justice was within our grasp.

But none of that mattered to me as much as the figure lying unconscious on the bed upstairs.

The doctor was with him now, speaking in hushed tones as Landon hovered like a man possessed. I had never seen him like this, pale, shaking, and utterly unwilling to let anyone near his twin. Everyone without a word, kept their distance,including his parents who just arrived earlier said that Landon has always been like that when it comes to his twin.

I wanted to tell Landon to stop,to give Bran space, to give us all a moment of peace, but I couldn’t. Because I understood.

He had seen his twin on the verge of death. He had carried him through hell and back. And now, all he could do was sit at Bran’s side and pray that he woke up.

Landon’s hand brushed a strand of hair from Bran’s forehead, his movements tender in a way that was almost painful to witness. His voice was soft, almost childlike, as he murmured reassurances that Bran probably couldn’t hear.

I hated seeing my lotus flower like this. I hated feeling so helpless. But most of all, I hated Alexander for making this happen.

The doctor finally spoke, his words cautious but hopeful. “The concussion was the biggest concern, but his vitals are stabilizing. He needs rest. His body is healing, but it will take time.”

Time. It felt like the one thing we didn’t have.

I stepped closer, placing a hand on Landon’s shoulder. He didn’t acknowledge me, his focus entirely on Bran.

“He’s going to be okay,” I said quietly, not knowing if I was reassuring him or myself.
Landon didn’t respond. His fingers tightened around Bran’s hand, as if sheer will alone could bring him back to us.

As the room grew quiet again, I let my gaze linger on Bran’s face. Even now, bruised and battered, he looked peaceful.

He was the reason we were here. The reason we had won.And the reason we would never stop fighting.

Landon’s POV

The moment Bran collapsed in my arms, something inside me shattered. His limp body, pale and bloodied, felt so fragile against me. The memory of him standing, defiant and alive, was already slipping through my grasp, replaced by the gut-wrenching sight of him unconscious, teetering on the edge of death.

Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, unrelenting and suffocating. My grip on him tightened instinctively, as though letting go would mean losing him forever. Each ragged breath he managed was a small victory, yet it wasn’t enough to quell the fear clawing at my chest.

Voices surrounded me...urgent, frantic but I couldn’t make sense of them. All I knew was that Bran was here, with me, and no one,no one,was taking him away.

“Landon, we need to move. He needs help!”
I snapped my head up, glaring at whoever had dared to speak. It was Nikolai, his face a mix of desperation and resolve. But I couldn’t listen.

“Stay back,” I growled, pulling Bran closer. My voice cracked under the weight of my fear. “ I’ll take care of him.”

“Lan, you’re not thinking straight,” Uncle Aiden said, stepping closer. His voice was calm, but I could see the worry etched in his features. “We all want to help him, but you need to let us.”

“I can’t,” I choked out, my voice barely a whisper. My eyes darted down to Bran’s face, streaked with dirt and blood, his chest barely rising. “I can’t let him go.”

Aiden crouched beside me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “You’re not letting him go,” he said softly. “You’re letting us help him. For him, Landon. Do it for him.”

I don’t know what broke me his words, the unbearable weight of Bran’s lifelessness, or the sheer exhaustion threatening to consume me but my grip loosened just enough for Nikolai to step in.

As Nikolai lifted Bran, cradling him with a gentleness I hadn’t expected, a wave of emptiness washed over me. My hands hovered in the air, desperate to pull Bran back, but I stayed frozen, rooted in place by fear and helplessness.

We moved quickly, every second dragging like an eternity, until we arrived at the Bratva mansion in Russia. The sprawling estate was imposing, but I barely registered it. My sole focus was Bran.

The doctors were already waiting, a flurry of movement and hushed urgency as they worked to stabilize him. I stayed back, pacing the length of the room, my eyes never leaving Bran’s pale face.

A presence approached soft, maternal. Nikolai’s grandmother stood before me. Her eyes, sharp yet kind, softened as she took me in.

Without a word, she pulled me into a hug, her arms steady and grounding. I stiffened at first, but the weight of everything the fear, the guilt, the exhaustion became too much, and I allowed myself to lean into her comfort.

“He’ll pull through,” she murmured, her voice firm and reassuring. “Your brother is strong. Just like you.”

But I wasn’t strong. Not now. Not when I had almost lost the only person who mattered more than anything. I clung to her words, desperate to believe them, even as my heart refused to stop aching.

The moments stretched endlessly as we waited outside the room, the faint hum of medical equipment behind closed doors the only sound. Every second felt like an eternity, my mind tormenting me with images of Bran’s pale face and lifeless form in my arms.

Kai stood before us, his expression grim but steady as he recounted everything Bran had endured. His words were daggers, each one sharper than the last.

The betrayal, the torment, and most of all, the unfathomable bravery Bran had shown ,my brother, barely holding himself together, had put others before him. He had freed children destined for horrors, knowing it would put him in even more danger.

The CCTV footage played next, and I forced myself to watch. I needed to see. I needed to understand every bruise, every scar, every trembling breath Bran had taken in those moments.

Seeing Alexander strike him, watching Bran’s head slam against the wall, and hearing his sharp cries of pain made my blood boil. My fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, the sting grounding me in my rage.

“He’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever seen,” Kai said softly, almost to himself.

Stronger. That word echoed in my head. Bran had always been strong in ways I wasn’t ,kindness, selflessness, bravery. But to see it laid bare like this, in the face of such cruelty, it shattered something in me.

The door creaked open, and the doctor emerged, looking weary but relieved. “He’s stabilized,” he said, and the weight that had been crushing my chest lifted slightly.

“He’s still unconscious, but his vitals are steady. He’s out of immediate danger.”
I didn’t wait for anyone to speak or stop me. I pushed past them and entered the room.

Bran lay on the bed, pale but peaceful. The bruises and cuts stood out starkly against his skin, a grim testament to what he had endured. But his breathing was even now, his chest rising and falling with a steadiness that calmed the storm in my heart.

I sank into the chair beside him, my hand hovering over his for a moment before I finally took it, careful not to disturb the IV taped to his wrist. His fingers were warm, a small reassurance that he was still here, still with me.

“You scared the hell out of me, Bran,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Don’t you dare do that again.”

I leaned forward, resting my forehead against our joined hands. For the first time in what felt like ages, I allowed myself to breathe, to let the tension drain away.

“You’re safe now,” I murmured, though it felt more like I was reassuring myself than him. “You’re safe, Bran. I’ll never let anything happen to you again.”

Even though he couldn’t hear me, I made that promise with every fiber of my being. My twin, my other half, was here. And I’d make damn sure he stayed that way.

Chapter Text

Brandon's POV

When I woke up, everything felt heavy. My body, my arms, my head were weighed down by an exhaustion I couldn’t shake.

The world around me was hazy, dark, and unyielding. My hand was warm, held in someone else’s grip, firm yet gentle. On the other side, I could feel the faint weight of a someone's resting on my arm, as if someone had sought comfort there.

I stirred, my throat dry and aching, swallowing hard against the parched sensation. My lips felt cracked, the effort to even gulp sending a dull throb through my head. I tried to open my eyes, to pull myself into the waking world, but it was like fighting against quicksand.

As I struggled, the presence near me shifted. I heard voices, soft and coaxing, calling my name with a tenderness that struck something deep in my chest.

“Bran…come on. Open your eyes.”

“Lotus flower, we’re here. Take your time. Slowly.”

Those voices… I would know them anywhere, across lifetimes, in dreams, in nightmares. One was steady, grounding, with an edge of desperation barely masked by its calm,a voice I’d leaned on, trusted, cherished.
Nikolai.

The other,God, the other was the one that broke me. It was deeper, yet softer now, trembling on the edges of control.
My twin. Landon.

No.

It couldn’t be.

Landon was gone. I had mourned him, screamed for him, carried the weight of his loss in every step I took. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

Tears burned in my eyes, slipping free and trailing down my cheeks silently. If this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t want to face the cruel reality that would snatch this away.

I felt a thumb swipe across my cheek, brushing away the tears. The touch was familiar, a memory brought to life, and it shattered me.

“Bran,” the voice came again, closer, more insistent. “We’re right here. You’re safe.”

I let out a shuddering breath, too afraid to open my eyes, too afraid to move and break the fragile spell. But my heart ached to respond, to reach for them, to hold on to this impossible moment.

I didn’t know if I could face the truth. But for now, I let their voices carry me, grounding me in the impossible hope that maybe just maybe i wasn’t as alone as I’d thought.

When I woke again, I wasn’t even sure how much time had passed. Maybe I’d cried myself to sleep again, clinging to that dream,the one where Nikolai and my twin were with me. My heart ached at the thought of it being just a cruel trick my mind played on me.

I stirred, testing the weight of my limbs. They still felt heavy, my head pounding faintly, but the ache in my chest was sharper.
Before I could sink back into the haze, I heard it,a voice, steady and real, cutting through the fog like sunlight breaking through clouds. I didn’t want this dream to be over just yet.

“This isn’t a dream, baby bro. I’m right here with you. I’m not going to leave.”

As if they just heard my thoughts.

I froze, barely daring to breathe.
Slowly, I opened my eyes, squinting against the unfamiliar brightness of the room. This wasn’t the estate. The walls, the soft hum of the room’s air,it was all foreign, not the comforting familiarity of home. My eyes darted around, adjusting to the light, searching for answers.

On my right, Nikolai sat beside me on the bed, his face soft with relief. His eyes met mine, and his smile was like warmth on a cold day.

"N...Niko?"

Leaning forward, he kissed my eyelids gently, murmuring, “Welcome back, lotus flower.”

I blinked, my chest tightening, but then my gaze shifted.

There, on my left, was someone else.
My breath hitched.

He stood there, looking like he didn’t dare come closer, but his presence filled the room. His eyes stormy, yet filled with something I couldn’t name ,met mine, and my heart stuttered.

It was him.
My twin. My other half.

“La...Landon” I whispered, my voice hoarse and trembling.

He didn’t move immediately, as if afraid this was fragile, that I might shatter if he stepped closer. But then, he gave me a shaky smile, his hand clenching at his side before he finally said, “Yeah, Bran. It’s me. I’m here.”

And just like that, the dam broke.
Tears blurred my vision as the weight in my chest gave way to an ache so deep it felt like it might swallow me whole. I didn’t care how it was possible. I didn’t care about the questions that screamed for answers. He was here, and that was enough.

Landon's presence was like a thunderclap in my chest, loud and impossible to ignore. The rush of emotions was suffocating,hope, disbelief, anger, and an ache I couldn’t describe. He stepped closer cautiously, his hand trembling as he reached out, but I flinched, pulling back instinctively.

“You...” My voice cracked, raw and filled with a fury I didn’t know I had. “You let me believe you were gone!”

Landon winced, his hand dropping back to his side. His eyes, those stormy eyes that always mirrored my own, looked pained. “Bran, I...”

“Don’t!” The tears burned my cheeks as they fell unchecked. “Don’t you dare, Landon! I called for you! Every night, I called out, and you never came. Do you know what that did to me? Do you even care?”

Nikolai looked like he wanted to speak but he kept quiet. He understood this wasn’t about him. This was between me and my brother.

My twin stood there, his shoulders hunched as though the weight of my words had physically struck him. His expression broke something in me,it was a mix of guilt, desperation, and agony so deep it mirrored my own.

“I was there,” he finally said, his voice low, trembling. “Every damn second, Bran, I was there. Watching you cry, watching you break... It tore me apart.”

I shook my head, refusing to believe it. “You were there, but you didn’t come to me? You let me think I was alone? You let me grieve for you, Landon!”

“Bran, please,” he started, but I shook my head, pulling my hand away.

“No! Do you have any idea what I went through? What Mia went through? We mourned you. We buried you! How could you?”

I was shouting now, the tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. He didn’t stop me. He didn’t interrupt. He just stood there, taking every word.

“You don’t understand,” he finally said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to leave you. But I had to. It was the only way to protect you.”

“Protect me?” I asked bitterly.

“Yes,” he said firmly, his eyes blazing with emotion. “If it meant keeping you safe, I’d break you a thousand times over. Do you think it was easy for me? Do you think I didn’t suffer? Every second without you was hell. Every breath felt wrong because you weren’t there. It broke me too in a way i didn't even kno...know was possible.” His voice cracked mid sentence.

I froze, his words cutting through my anger. He reached for me again, his hands trembling as they cupped my face.

“I’m sorry, Bran. I’m so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now how much I hurt you. If I could take it all back, I would. But I need you to know that I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

I broke again, but this time, it wasn’t from anger. It was from the overwhelming love and pain and relief that came with having him back. I leaned forward, our foreheads touching as we both cried.

“Don’t leave me again,” I whispered.

“Never,” he promised.

“I couldn’t!” His voice cracked, raw and unfiltered. “I couldn’t come to you because I knew if I did, I’d break. I’d ruin everything. Do you think it was easy for me to stay away? To watch my other half, my reason for living, fall apart and not do anything?”

He stepped closer, his eyes locking with mine. “I died every second I wasn’t with you, Bran. Every second. But I had to stay away to keep you safe.”

I wanted to hold on to my anger, to the betrayal that cut so deep, but his words seeped through the cracks in my heart.
“I needed you,” I whispered, broken and vulnerable.

“And I needed you more,” Landon replied, his voice thick with emotion. “ Do you think I chose this? I never wanted to hurt you, Baby bro. Never.” He tried to reach forward but hesitated.

So I collapsed into his arms, my fists pounding weakly against his chest as the tears fell harder. “You’re such an idiot,” I sobbed.

He held me tightly, his arms wrapping around me like a shield against the world. “I know. I know, baby bro. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The fight drained out of me, leaving only exhaustion and a flicker of something warmer. Forgiveness? Maybe.

As his hand cradled the back of my head and he whispered apologies into my hair, I realized that no matter how much it hurt, he was here now. That was all I’d ever wanted.

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, but for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt whole again.

As he wiped my tears and my breathing evened, I slowly became aware of the room. I wasn’t alone, not by a long shot. It wasn’t just Landon and Nikolai. Everyone was here.

My parents stood near the doorway, their faces a mix of relief and lingering worry. Mom’s hands were clutched tightly together, her eyes rimmed red as if she’d been crying. Dad’s shoulders were stiff, his jaw clenched in barely concealed emotion.

I caught a glimpse of Mia next, standing near the window. Her soft smile reached her eyes, but there was something deeper,a shared understanding. We’d both grieved the same loss, carried the same emptiness.

One by one, they surrounded me, pulling me into warm, comforting embraces. My mom kissed my forehead, whispering words of love that I could barely hear over the rushing sound of my emotions. Dad patted my back, his touch firm, grounding me in a way only he could.

Nikolai’s parents followed. His mom cupped my face in her hands, her intense eyes scanning me for every trace of pain, while his dad stood just behind her, nodding with a rare softness in his gaze.

Then came Nikolai’s grandparents. His grandfather, a figure of power and dominance, nodded approvingly before clasping my shoulder, his firm grip conveying unspoken words of pride. His grandmother pulled me into a gentle hug that smelled of lavender and warmth.

Finally, Nikolai stepped forward. His eyes shimmered with an emotion so deep it made my breath hitch. He knelt beside me, taking my hands in his, and whispered, “I’ve got you now, Brandon. And I’m not letting go. Not for a single second.”

The room filled with soft chuckles and laughter, a sound so foreign after the past few days that it felt surreal. But it was real. They were all here, and I was safe.

I glanced at Mia, the only person in the room who understood the depth of what I’d been through. She met my gaze, her soft smile unwavering, but there was something behind it. A truth.

“Why?” I croaked, my voice still hoarse. “Why did you do it?” i asked Landon.

But Mia stepped closer, her expression tender but resolute. “He did it for you, Brandon. For all of us. Landon couldn’t risk anyone’s safety not yours, not mine, not the family’s. Faking his death was the only way he could protect us all while dealing with Alexander in the shadows.”

Then she explained everything to me.
Her words settled over me like a heavy weight. I glanced at Landon, who stood quietly by, his eyes fixed on me as if waiting for my reaction.

“You could’ve told me,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You didn’t have to leave me in the dark.”

Mia’s hand gently squeezed mine. “He couldn’t, Bran. The risk was too high. But look around you now. He made sure we’re all here together, safe.”

I nodded slowly, my emotions still raw but my heart beginning to understand. Despite everything, we were together again. And for now, that was enough.

As Nikolai’s soft smile started to ease the storm in my chest, a sudden jolt of memory struck me like lightning. My heart raced as I sat up straighter, ignoring the dull ache that radiated through my body.

“The children,” I blurted, my voice hoarse and raw. “The ones I helped escape. And the shipment... it was supposed to happen at midnight!”

My words came out in a rush, panic rising as the gravity of everything hit me again. Nikolai placed a calming hand on my shoulder, gently guiding me back against the pillows.

“Baby,” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s been two days since that night. You’ve been unconscious for 2 days.”

His words hit me harder than I expected. My eyes widened in disbelief. “Two days?” I repeated, the weight of lost time crashing over me.

Nikolai nodded, his smile tinged with a mixture of relief and admiration. “Yes, lotus flower. But because of you, we were able to stop the shipment. The children are safe, and we’ve dismantled Alexander’s entire operation. You did that.”

I blinked at him, my mind struggling to process what he was saying. Before I could respond, Nikolai’s grandfather stepped forward. His sharp gaze softened as he looked at me, his tone carrying the weight of sincerity.

“You’ve done something extraordinary,” he said, his deep voice commanding respect. “Because of your bravery, many innocent lives were spared, and a war that could have torn the Bratva apart has been averted. You’ve earned our gratitude and our respect, son.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and profound. I felt my cheeks flush under the intensity of his praise, but a small part of me felt lighter. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t just the fragile one who needed saving, I had made a difference.

Nikolai’s hand tightened around mine, grounding me. “You’ve always been stronger than you think, Bran,” he murmured, his eyes shining with pride.

I let out a shaky breath, my head falling back against the pillows. A soft smile tugged at my lips despite the lingering fatigue. “It wasn’t just me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I couldn’t have done it without all of you.”

Nikolai chuckled lightly, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. “Maybe, but you were the heart of it all. You gave us the direction we needed. Don’t downplay that.”

For the first time, I allowed myself to believe it. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as helpless as I thought. And for the first time since the nightmare began, I felt a flicker of peace.

Rai stepped closer, her voice calm but tinged with the weight of unspoken history. “There’s more to this, Brandon,” she began, her piercing gaze meeting mine. “The Bratva has been in turmoil for months. Disputes were brewing, alliances strained. Alexander wasn’t just targeting us; he was planting chaos everywhere.”

She paused, glancing at her father, who gave her a small nod to continue. “Do you remember the night of mine and Kyle’s anniversary?” she asked, her voice softer now.

I nodded , flashes of that night coming back to me,the joy of the celebration, the warmth of family, and the sudden abruptness when Nikolai’s grandpa had to leave in the early hours of the morning.

“That night,” Rai said, “we received reports of multiple attacks on Sokolov properties. It wasn’t random. Alexander orchestrated them, trying to destabilize us, to make us seem weak.” Her voice hardened as she added, “We left that morning to deal with the fallout. It wasn’t just about property; it was about our position in the Bratva. He wanted us to fall.”

My heart sank. It was all so much bigger than I’d ever realized.

Rai’s expression softened again, her eyes fixed on me with something almost maternal. “Among the children you helped save, Brandon,” she said carefully, “was the daughter of a powerful Bratva member. He was one of the few opposing us, believing that the Sokolovs couldn’t protect our own, let alone the rest of the Bratva. That child’s capture was a calculated move by Alexander. He knew it would deepen the cracks in our alliances.”

I felt a lump in my throat, thinking of the terrified faces of those children, their silent cries for help.

“When you saved her,” Rai continued, her voice laced with quiet pride, “you didn’t just save a child. You saved our standing in the Bratva. That member,her father,was so grateful that he immediately withdrew his opposition. Your bravery mended something that even years of negotiations couldn’t have achieved.”

Then Nikolai’s grandpa said, his voice low and steady. “You showed the Bratva what true strength looks like,not in force, but in compassion and courage. Because of you, alliances that were fraying are now stronger than ever.”

I could feel my cheeks warm under their praise, but guilt gnawed at the edges of my mind. “I didn’t even know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I just… I couldn’t let them suffer.”

“And that’s exactly why you’re remarkable,” kyle said, his tone firm yet kind. “You acted selflessly, and because of that, you’ve done more for this family than you could ever imagine.”

Nikolai squeezed my hand, his touch grounding me. “They are right,” he murmured, his voice filled with pride. “You’ve done something none of us could.”

For the first time, I allowed myself to believe them. Maybe my actions hadn’t been insignificant after all.

And i just realised one more thing is that the world can push us all they want ,but they can never break us apart.

Chapter Text

Brandon's POV

It had been few days since the whole ordeal, and the house was starting to settle back into a fragile kind of normalcy.

Everyone fell back to their routine, my family return back including Landon, who wanted to focus only on Mia for now.
Ne and Niko stay back with Sokolovs because his grandparents insisted.

Everyone' fine Well everyone except my Niko I could feel the tension radiating off Nikolai like a storm cloud hovering just out of reach.

He tried to hide it, of course. The way he smiled at me, gentle and reassuring, as if I didn’t notice the way his hands trembled sometimes when he thought no one was looking. Or the way his jaw clenched, his breath hitching when I’d lean into him, trying to remind him that I was here that I was okay.

But Nikolai wasn’t okay.

He hadn’t touched me,not really,since the night he held me after i woke up. Whenever I tried to close the gap between us, he’d find an excuse to retreat. “You need rest, baby,” he’d say, brushing a kiss over my forehead, his tone soft but firm. “Let’s not rush it.”

It wasn’t like him. Before all of this, when Nikolai felt on edge or the weight of his world bore down on him, he’d always turn to me. Being close, being us, had always been his solace. But now, it was as if he was afraid,afraid that if he held me too tightly, I’d shatter.

Kyle had noticed it, too. I saw the way his sharp, calculating eyes followed his son when Nikolai thought no one was watching. There was a silent understanding in Kyle’s gaze, one I didn’t quite know how to interpret, but it was clear he was worried.

Rai was less subtle. She always wore her heart on her sleeve when it came to Nikolai. Her concerned eyes flitted between him and me.

Today, though, it was different. As everyone prepared to leave for some important event that required their presence, I caught Rai’s gaze lingering on me. She didn’t say anything, but the look in her eyes was clear. She was silently urging me to do something, anything, to ease her son’s turmoil.

As the front door closed behind them and silence fell over the house, I turned to look for Nikolai. I found him sitting in the living room, staring out the window. His shoulders were taut, his hands resting on his knees, and his usually vibrant eyes were dimmed with worry.

I stood there for a moment, watching him, my heart aching. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his back, and I couldn’t stand it anymore.

Quietly, I crossed the room and settled on the couch beside him. He didn’t look at me, but I saw the way his jaw tensed when I rested my hand on his.

“Niko,” I said softly, my voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “You don’t have to do this.”

His head turned slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Do what?”

“This,” I said, squeezing his hand gently. “Act like I’m going to break if you touch me. Like I’m not still here. I’m okay, Niko.”

His eyes darted away, and he let out a sharp exhale. “I can’t, lotus,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You don’t understand. I almost...” He stopped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “I can’t lose you. I can’t risk hurting you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me,” I said firmly, shifting closer to him. “But this distance? It’s hurting both of us. I need you, Niko. Not the protector, not the cautious Nikolai who walks on eggshells around me. I need you.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression torn. Then, as if something inside him broke, he pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw.

“I’m so sorry, lotus. I thought... I thought if I held back, I could protect you. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t.”

“You don’t have to,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around him. “I’m here, Niko. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in days, I felt him relax against me, his walls crumbling. And in that moment, I knew we’d find our way back to each other. Together.

The room was quiet except for the sound of our breaths, mingling in the silence that had stretched between us for days.

Nikolai’s arms tightened around me, his warmth seeping into my skin, chasing away the lingering cold that had settled in my chest since everything had happened.

I leaned back just enough to look at him, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the tension there slowly ebbing under my touch. His eyes met mine ,stormy, conflicted, and filled with a vulnerability I rarely saw in him.

“Niko,” I whispered, my voice breaking slightly. “I need you. Please.”

His gaze softened, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “You don’t know what you do to me, lotus,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion. “I’ve been so afraid,so afraid of losing you again. But I can’t... I can’t keep pushing you away.”

“Then don’t,” I replied, leaning into him. “I’m here. I’m yours. Always.”

Something shifted in his expression, a flicker of resolve cutting through the haze of worry. He cupped my face with both hands, his thumbs brushing gently over my cheekbones as if grounding himself.

“You’re everything to me,” he said, his voice trembling with sincerity. “You’re my life, my heart, my reason for breathing. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” I promised, my lips curving into a soft smile.

His resolve broke, and his lips claimed mine in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, a raw expression of the emotions he’d kept bottled up for far too long. I kissed him back with everything I had, pouring every ounce of reassurance, love, and devotion into the connection.

His hands slid down to my waist, pulling me closer, as if the space between us was unbearable. The warmth of his touch ignited something inside me,a longing to remind him that I was here, that I was safe, and that he didn’t need to hold back anymore.

“Niko,” I breathed against his lips, my fingers threading through his hair.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against mine. “Missed you. Every part of you.”

“Then stop holding back,” I whispered, my heart racing as his hands roamed, their movements reverent, as if he were memorizing every curve and plane of my body.

He didn’t need more convincing. The hesitation he’d carried for days melted away, replaced by the raw intensity of his love and need. We lost ourselves in each other, our movements slow and deliberate, as if time had slowed down just for us.
Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word was a reminder of our bond,of the connection that couldn’t be broken, no matter how much the world tried to tear us apart.

In his arms, I found my safety, my solace, my home. And in mine, I hoped he found the same.

The room felt alive with the electricity between us, every shared touch and whispered promise rekindling something we had both been too afraid to confront.

Nikolai’s lips trailed down to my neck, each kiss searing and grounding me further in the reality of his presence.

“I thought I lost you,” he confessed, his voice raw and trembling. “Every moment, I kept thinking,what if I didn’t get to you in time? What if I couldn’t save you?”

I cupped his face, forcing him to look at me. His stormy eyes were glossy with unshed tears, his usual composure stripped bare.

“You did save me,” I whispered, brushing my thumb across his cheek. “You always do, Niko. You’re my anchor, my everything.”

His forehead pressed against mine, our breaths mingling in the intimate space between us. “I’ll never let you go, lotus. Never again.”

“Good,” I replied softly, threading my fingers through his hair, pulling him back into another kiss deeper, slower, carrying every ounce of the love and trust we’d built.

His hands roamed my body with renewed confidence, his touch neither too soft nor too hesitant now. It was as though he’d finally allowed himself to remember that I wasn’t fragile that I could handle him, that I needed him.

We moved in sync, every moment deliberate and cherished, every touch an affirmation of what we meant to each other. The tension of the past days melted away, replaced by a warmth that spread through every corner of my being.

“I love you,” he murmured against my skin, the words carrying the weight of a vow.
“I love you too,” I replied, my voice steady, my heart full.

When we finally settled into the quiet, tangled together on the bed, his arms wrapped securely around me, Nikolai pressed a soft kiss to my temple.

“Sleep,” I whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He nodded, burying his face in the crook of my neck, turning into a peaceful slumber.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I knew without a doubt that everything would be okay because no matter what came our way, we had each other.

Nikolai’s breath had evened out, but I could feel the lingering tension in the way his fingers curled against my side, as if holding on even in his sleep. I brushed my fingers through his hair, marveling at how peaceful he looked ,how the weight he carried had finally eased, if only for a moment.

He had been running on fumes, and now, after everything, he had finally let himself rest. His head rested on my chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me like he was afraid I’d slip away.

I tightened my hold on him, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "I'm here," I whispered, even though he was already asleep.

The quiet room was filled with nothing but the sound of his soft breathing. For once, the ever-present storm in Nikolai seemed to have calmed.

Watching him sleep in my arms felt like the most profound kind of intimacy,the kind where words were unnecessary, where just being close was enough. My fingers traced lazy patterns on his back, grounding myself in the reality of this moment, of having him here with me.

Nikolai stirred slightly, his grip on me tightening, but he didn’t wake. Instead, he murmured something faint and incoherent, his face nuzzling further into the crook of my neck.

I smiled softly, brushing his hair back. "I’ve got you," I whispered again, my voice tender. "Just rest, love."

The sound of the front doors opening echoed through the estate, breaking the serene quiet that had settled over the house.
I was still on the couch, Nikolai sprawled across me, his head tucked into my neck, fast asleep. His arms were wrapped around me with a vice-like grip that hadn’t loosened all night, as though even in his dreams, he couldn’t bear to let go.

I tilted my head slightly as I heard footsteps approaching, and then the soft murmurs of familiar voices,Rai’s gentle tone and Kyle’s low timbre.The atmosphere shifted as the warmth of home filled the space, grounding me further.

The door to the living room opened slowly, and Rai peeked in first. Her eyes immediately softened at the sight of us, her gaze lingering on Nikolai, still nestled against me like he belonged there. She pressed a hand to her chest, a small, relieved smile playing on her lips.

Kyle followed her in, his sharp eyes taking in the scene with a quiet approval. He didn’t say anything, just nodded at me, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort I was able to provide for his son.

"You both look so at peace," He whispered, his voice laced with emotion.

I nodded, glancing down at Nikolai, who stirred slightly but didn’t wake. "He needed this," I replied softly. "We both did."

Rai sat beside me, her hand resting on Nikolai’s back. "You’ve given him more peace than I ever could," she murmured, her voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you, Brandon."

I shook my head, feeling the weight of her words. "He’s my everything. I’d do anything for him."
As the day went on, the estate was filled with laughter, soft conversations, and the unspoken promise of brighter days ahead.

When Nikolai finally woke, his eyes meeting mine with a clarity I hadn’t seen in weeks, I knew we’d come out stronger.
No matter the trials, no matter the storms, we had each other. And that was enough.