A shiver ran down my spine as I hugged myself tightly, searching for warmth in the cozy room. My mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of truth that were slowly coming to light.
“Also, I didn’t want Balthazar to know I was alive,” Mathias said, his gaze steady and solemn. “I love you and Emily so much and would do anything to protect you. I would never hurt either of you. I want to have my family close. Please don’t be afraid of me.”
Afraid? The word echoed in my head. How could I not fear the unknown, the shrouded past unraveling before me?
“Balthazar is locked up and will never escape. I promise you,” Mathias said as if reading my thoughts. “And I need to share my ugly past with Balthazar with you.”
He paused, his words hanging between us like a specter.
“I once had a wife and a training school, teaching my students to correct their innate darkness. I taught them they may have been born this way, but it didn’t mean they had to live that way. Balthazar was my greatest student, closest ally, and friend, once upon a time, until one day he destroyed my school, wanting power.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“He blamed me for every bad thing that happened to him.” Mathias clenched his hands into fists. “He killed my beautiful wife Cora in vengeance. He went after my daughter, Alina, but he fell in love with her. Still, he tried to kill her. Balthazar is the most dangerous darkness, and I will protect you and Emily at all costs.”
His declaration was fierce, an oath carved from years of hidden battles.
“The truth is, Olivia,” he added, softer now, “I had no idea Alina was alive until Lee told me.”
“Lee?” The name tumbled out of me, disbelief shading my tone. My gaze snapped to him, searching for confirmation. Lee met my eyes, his expression unreadable, then he gave a slow, measured nod.
“You and Lee know each other?”
Mathias nodded, a haunted look passing over his features. “Yes, I’ve known Lee for a long time. For years, I thought Alina was dead.”
Something shifted inside me, some barrier crumbling at the realization that the webs of our lives were more intertwined than I’d ever imagined.
“I had a purpose,” Mathias murmured, almost to himself. “I want joy in my life. I want to be one big, happy family.”
He turned toward Alina, who lurked silently in the corner.
“I think it’s time your daughter knows the truth,” he said. “She only knows bits and pieces. Tell her the truth, Alina. She needs her mother back.”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, the weight of years of longing and confusion pressing down on me. The truth. It was what I’d sought all along, and now it seemed closer than ever.
But with it came the realization that the path ahead was paved with revelations that would change everything. And those revelations might reveal more lies than I could stomach.
CHAPTER THREE
OLIVIA
The grandeur of Mathias’ estate felt like a cruel contradiction to the turmoil that churned within me. Gilded edges and velvet drapery mocked my confusion as I sat at the head of the long dining table, its surface gleaming under the flickering glow of countless candles nestled within crystal chandeliers. The chair beside me remained conspicuously occupied, the ghost of my mother’s absence over the years replaced by her tangible, but no less haunting, presence.
“Mom,” I started, my voice steadier than I felt, “I want answers. I went through fourteen years with you gone, presumed dead. What happened?”
Alina’s gaze met mine across the table. Lines of hardship etched into her face that I remembered smooth and laughing, but the same steel-blue eyes bore into me with an intensity I couldn’t escape.
“Olivia,” she began, her voice laced with a weariness that seemed to reach beyond the confines of this room, “everything I will tell you is dark and vicious. I just wanted to protect you.”
A chill crawled up my spine. Malik’s earlier outburst replayed in my mind, his anger ricocheting off these opulent walls and shattering the illusion of safety and family that Mathias’ estate had promised. Now, hearing my mother confirm the darkness that swirled around our lives, it felt as if the final pillar of my childhood had been kicked out from under me.
“Protect me from what?” The question was barely a whisper, fear knotting my stomach.
“From Balthazar,” she said with a bitter edge. “He killed me when you were a child. You and I were going to get ice cream. He stabbed me.”
Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced the edge of the fine china before her.
The memory surged forward unbidden. The scream that had torn from my throat on that day echoed in my ears; the sight of blood blossoming on her shirt seared into my vision forever.
