Chapter Twenty-Two

It's the day Arlo leaves for his trip out of town, and my thoughts are razor-sharp, locked onto a single mission. My mom contacted me earlier, confirming that the key I found belongs to a small storage locker on the outskirts of the city. The need to uncover whatever Carmella is hiding scratches at my insides. I've already dropped Lumi off for an hour while collecting the key from my mom, so this has to be quick.

Pulling up to the ordinary building, I slide on my sunglasses. I step out of the car, then I stride into the spacious, brightly lit building, the sterile scent of metal and dust in the air.

With the small piece of paper in hand, I scan the long aisle, searching for the locker number that matches. My heart pounds with each step until finally, my eyes fix on the one I need. Without hesitation, I rush toward it, glancing over my shoulder to ensure no one is watching.

My handshakes slightly as I pull the key from my pocket, the small object suddenly feeling heavier in my palm. I push it into the lock and twist. The soft click of it opening makes my shoulders relax, but only for a second. My chest tightens as I pause and for a brief moment, doubt creeps in—what am I about to find?

Pushing past my hesitation, I pull the door open slowly, and there, sitting side by side, are the only two things inside the locker: a USB stick and a small pile of documents. My brows knit together in confusion, expecting something more, but I guess sometimes, it's the simplest things that hide the deepest secrets.

I carefully pick up the black USB stick, turning it over in my hand before hastily slipping it into my pocket. Then, I grab the stack of documents, shoving them into the inside of my trench coat.

Without wasting another second, I close the locker and lock it, dropping the key back into my pocket. My heart beats faster, urging me to move. I need to get out of here, fast. I glance around one last time before heading back toward the exit, my steps quick.

When I get home, I waste no time, entering the mansion and making a dash for the stairs, Lumi cradled securely in my arms. My mind races, focused only on getting the documents and USB stick hidden away.

"Wren?" Arlo's deep voice echoes from the living room, but I don't stop, my feet barely touching the ground as I hurry past.

"I'll be down in a second! I'm going to pee myself!" I call back, trying to hide my urgency. Lumi giggles, finding it funny that I am running, her small, happy sounds the completely opposite to the tight knot of anxiety coiling in my stomach.

As soon as I reach the bedroom, I move swiftly. I fumble through my drawer, making space. Then grab the USB and documents from inside my coat, shoving them deep beneath a pile of panties in my underwear drawer. My hands are shaking as I push it closed, my fingers gripping the edge.

Finally, my shoulders slump, a long, tense breath escaping me. The adrenaline that had fuelled me since I left the storage locker starts to fade, my body unwinding bit by bit. I didn't even get the chance to tell my mom what I found—too wired to think clearly. The important thing was that they're safe, for now.

I glance down at Lumi, her wide eyes blinking up at me with a happy, carefree smile. Her innocence brings a moment of calm, something pure during the mayhem. I press a kiss to her soft curls and turn toward the door.

"Let's go see Daddy before he leaves for the weekend," I murmur with a smile.

When I make my way downstairs, I head straight for the living room, but my steps slow the moment I spot Arlo. His small suitcase sits by his side, and a familiar worry grips my insides. I hate when he leaves, especially after everything that's been happening. The second my eyes meet his, he sees the unease in them.

Without hesitation, he walks toward me, and I instinctively move forward to meet him at the same time. The space between us disappears in an instant, and his hand finds the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair as he pulls me close to his body. He places a kiss on my forehead.

"You'll be alright, won't you?"

I nod in response, but the anxiety still sits thick in my chest. "Of course," I reply quietly, forcing a small smile as I look up at him. "Lil will be staying for the weekend and Cree will be here tomorrow. I'll have more than enough company to keep me busy."

His thumb strokes the nape of my neck, and for a moment, I feel anchored, safe.

"You've got this," he adds.

"I'll miss you," I admit softly, my hand slipping up his back before I look at Lumi on my hip. "We both will."

"I'll miss you both too," he replies, placing another kiss to my forehead, then to Lumi's before stepping back slightly, his hand sliding down to my ass. "But I'll be back before you know it."

I nod again, forcing another smile as Lumi giggles in my arms. Arlo's gaze flickers to her, his face softening as he reaches out to carefully brush the back of his fingers across her rosy cheek in a loving gesture, completely smitten.

"If you need me, just call me. Everything is in place. People are on standby, the security cameras and motion detectors are on," he says, his dark eyes meeting mine.

With one last forceful kiss to my lips that almost takes my breath away, Arlo grabs his suitcase, and I watch his every move as he walks out the door. As it slams shut, the quiet settles in, and I hold Lumi a little tighter to my chest.

It's late at night, and with Lumi tucked safely in bed, Lil and I are lounging in the living room, sipping wine and half-watching a movie. It's been fun catching up with her, but I can't stop my mind from drifting to the USB stick and those documents hidden upstairs. The curiosity is eating away at me.

I stretch my arms above my head and let out a deliberately exaggerated yawn. "I think I'm ready for bed," I say, my voice lazy as I attempt to hide what's really on my mind.

"Already? How old are you again?" Lil teases, giving me a playful nudge, and I laugh along with her.

After making sure everything downstairs is locked up, I turn off the lights, we head upstairs. I make my way to Lumi's room first, peeking in to find her fast asleep. Her peaceful little face gives me a moment of calm before the adrenaline kicks back in.

Once I'm in my bedroom, I softly shut the door behind me, tossing my phone onto the bed without a second thought. My pulse beats faster as I stride toward the drawers. After grabbing the USB stick and documents, I settle onto the springy bed, legs crossed and pull my laptop closer.

As the laptop comes to life, I decide to scan the documents first. My brows knit together as the word "contract" catches my eye. I flip through the pages, skimming over the neatly typed words.

With each line, my heartbeat seems to hammer harder, and when I finally reach the signatures at the bottom, my breath lodges in my throat. My eyes widen in shock, disbelief washing over me as the names stare back at me, bold and undeniable.

No. Fucking. Way.

Suddenly, a chime from my phone cuts through the silence, making me jump. My heart skips a beat as my eyes dart toward the screen. With shaky hands, I snatch the phone and see a notification from the outside camera.Panic starts to creep in as I unlock the phone, swiping to pull up the live feed.

But one by one, each camera flickers—distorted static—then goes completely black.

Fuck, I know exactly what's happening.

Scrambling to my feet, my mind races and my first instinct is to call Arlo. I pull up his number, but my thumb hesitates. He's too far away. He can't help me from where he is. Swiping again, I pull up my mom's contact, but before I can press dial, a loud bang echoes from somewhere inside the house.

My entire body stiffens. My head snaps toward the door, and at that moment, the lights cut out completely. The house plunging into darkness.

I toss my phone onto the bed, heart hammering in my chest, and rush to the door. My fingers shake as I quietly ease it open, peering cautiously around the frame. The hallway stretches out before me, cloaked in shadows, but I have no time to hesitate.

I move quickly but quietly, my mind focused only on getting to my baby. I push through the fear, reaching her room and I enter to find her still fast asleep, her small body rising and falling peacefully under the blanket. Relief rushes over me for a split second before the fear returns.

I scoop her up, cradling her against me, feeling the warmth of her body as I hold her close. I take a steadying breath, then turn and carefully exit the room, moving silently, every muscle tensed.

Looking over my shoulder, I rush down the hallway and when I reach Lil's room, I swing the door open. She sits up in bed, her face a twisted with confusion and alarm.

"Wren?" she asks, far too loudly.

"Shhhh…" I whisper harshly, grabbing her wrist and yanking her out of bed.

There's no time to explain. I pull her toward my bedroom, our footsteps echoing against the marble floor as I keep glancing over my shoulder again, panic tightening in my chest. We reach my room, and with trembling hands, I punch in the code for the arms room. Every second feels like a ticking clock.

"What's going on?" Lil whispers, laced with fear. The door clicks open, and I hand over Lumi, my hands trembling as Lil stares at me in panic.

I lean in, pressing a kiss to Lumi's head, holding onto that moment of affection before I look at Lil, eyes brimming. I usher her inside the safe room, my heart breaking at what I have to say next.

"Don't come out, no matter what," I beg, my tone cracking, my vision blurring with unshed tears. "Not until you hear a familiar voice."

"What?" she gasps, clutching Lumi tighter, but I don't have time and shove her inside.

"Wren, what about you?" she asks desperately as I start to close the door shut.

"I need to call someone." I choke out, locking it with a final click. Tears spill down my cheeks as I press my forehead against the cold metal, my body trembling with adrenaline and dread.

But like a switch being flipped, the fear inside me morphs into something dark. Survival kicks in, taking over my body as I spin around, dashing toward my bedside cabinet. My fingers move fast, yanking it open, snatching my gun inside and screwing on a silencer. I angrily wipe my tears away. There's no time for fear now—only war. Fucking bastards.

I pick up my phone again, my thumb shaking as I swipe back to where I left off. This time, I don't attempt to text her. I hit the call button and press the phone to my ear, my breath ragged. Just two rings later, I hear her voice.

"Wren?" she asks, but her voice is warped, fuzzy, almost robotic beneath the layers of static.

"Mum, I need you," I whisper loudly, edged with panic.

She says something, but it's garbled, impossible to make out. My insides clench as everything dawns on me—they're hacking the signal. Fury floods through me like a fucking wildfire, burning away the last of my hesitation.

Another bang reverberates through the house, louder this time, coming from somewhere deep inside. My eyes flash to the open door. I hang up the phone and throw it on the bed. There's no point trying to reach anyone now. It's just them and me. And I have far too much to lose to fuck around. I'm not dying tonight.

With steady hands, I creep toward the door, gun aimed forward, every sense on high alert. Whoever is in my house, they've made a big fucking mistake. My fear is gone—replaced by cold, focused rage. I'm more than ready to defend myself and my family.

I step into the hallway, each movement calculated, the floor cold beneath my feet. My breath is shallow, every nerve on edge as I inch closer to the stairs, the noises below growing clearer—footsteps, clattering, maybe from the kitchen. I silently descend, one step at a time, scanning every corner, every shadow. I have no idea how many intruders there are, but I know they're in here with me.

When I reach the bottom step, the noise suddenly cuts off and silence presses in. I freeze, heart pounding in my chest, wondering if they've sensed me, if they're waiting for me to make the first move. For a moment, everything is still.

I decide to push forward, knowing staying frozen won't save us. I move toward the kitchen, each step careful. As I enter, I spot a figure hunched over by an open drawer, rifling through it—searching for something. My pulse spikes, but I don't hesitate.

I pull the trigger twice.

The quiet shots pop through the silence, hitting the intruder squarely. He lets out a groan, crumpling to the floor in a heap. I lower the gun slightly, but before I can catch my breath, I hear movement behind me, and I spin around. A shadow flickers in the corner of my vision, darting past the doorway.

Instinct takes over and I move forward into the foyer, ready to fire again, but I'm too slow. Metal swings through the air, cracking against my face with brutal force. My vision blurs as I spin from the impact, the world tilting before I slam into the cold floor frontally, pain radiating through my skull.

Groaning, I roll onto my stomach, the pain in my face intense but bearable. The sound of approaching footsteps grows louder behind me, each step echoing ominously through the darkened house. I force myself to focus, but shaking my head, then I spot my gun lying a few feet away.

With a surge of strength and sheer willpower, I scramble toward it, my movements desperate and clumsy. Just as a rough hand clamps down on my ankle, I snatch my gun, twisting around onto my back at speed. As soon as my aim is on point, I fire two shots. My bullets enter inside the masked man's head, and he collapses to the ground with a heavy thud.

I barely have a moment to catch my breath, my face throbbing and blood pooling in my mouth. I sit up straight away, trying to steady myself, my senses fighting to detect other threats. As I crouch, I peer around the large foyer, scanning every doorway and shadowed area. While preparing to stand upright, another person rushes toward me, gun raised and ready.

I don't hesitate, I fire again. He drops like a lifeless bundle of shit. My heart races as I scan the room again, blood pumping violently through my veins. Who the fuck sent these pathetic soldiers, I ask myself. They're definitely not from the Elite, I would be dead by now. But then again, they must have disarmed our men to get in here.

To my right, another movement catches my eye—a fourth attacker charging at me. I don't think, don't pause. I pull the trigger once more, and he, too, falls, his body hitting the ground with a muted thud.

The room falls into an eerie silence, broken only by my ragged breathing and the occasional creak of the house settling. I stay low, my gun still aimed fiercely on the shadows, my body tensed and ready for any sign of further danger.

After a while of not hearing or seeing anything, I gradually stand upright, then make my way into the dimly lit dining room, the darkness room in the house. My heart slams against my ribs as I cross the threshold, but before I can fully enter, a hammer fist slams into my stomach, sending me off the ground before I crash back down onto the marble floor. The impact knocks all the air out of me, leaving me gasping for breath, my stomach in excruciating pain.

My vision blurs as I struggle to regain my breath, I can barely move. A towering figure emerges from the darkness, his size and strength is like nothing I have ever seen before. Out of desperation, I try to wriggle across the cold floor, reaching upward for my gun with shaking fingers, not knowing where it is, but just as the tips scrape across the metal, he lunges at me, his weight descending upon me like a nightmare.

He grabs my throat with both his massive hands, his hold so strong that my eyesight dims at the edges. My eyeballs bulge as I claw desperately at his gloved hands, my fingernails scratching against the tough material. The black mask covering his face reveals nothing, just cold, unfeeling eyes staring back at me. I can feel myself slipping, my consciousness giving way as the pressure in my throat and head intensifies.

In a final, frantic attempt, I try to reach for my gun again, but the metal barely grazes my fingertips, taunting me, my life hanging by a thread. The world begins to darken, and just as I'm about to lose consciousness, another shadow emerges through my blurred eyesight, a gun is raised, standing behind the monster sitting on top of me. Before I can fully process it, I finally snatch my pistol. Like a lifeline, fire burns inside me again and I aim it at his face. Then, without delay, me, and the mysterious stranger behind him both fire. Bullets tear through the giant's head, his eyes widening in shock before he collapses, blood splattering across me.

His massive body crushes me, his weight overwhelming and suffocating. I struggle beneath him, fighting to push him off with the help of the person who came to my rescue. With sheer strength and desperation, we manage to shove his body aside, his big body flopping to the ground beside me. I sit up quickly, take a massive gulp of air, choking and coughing as I rub my throat, desperate to flood my lungs with oxygen.

During the turmoil, a gentle hand brushes the back of my hair. I lift my eyes, tears misting my sight, and find myself staring into my mom's calm gaze. I leap into her arms, wrapping them tightly around her and she returns the hug. We stand together, my legs still shaking from all of the madness and murder. As soon as we separate, her men start to enter, sweeping through to clear the mansion.

I lower my head, taking another deep breath to steady myself, everything finally starting to wear off and feel better.

"Where's Lumi and Lily?" my mom asks.

"In the safe room," I murmur, lifting my gaze to hers.

She nods with understanding but then a flicker of worry crosses her face. "I can't be here when Lily is let out."

My brows knit together in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She gives me a reassuring smile, her hand stroking my hair. "I promise I'll explain everything to her, but not like this," she assures me. "I think it's best if you come back with me. It's not safe here without Arlo. Someone's clearly up to their old tricks and wants to finish what they started."

I stare at her, my mind racing and after a moment, I give a small, hesitant nod. "I agree. We both know who it is. What if she's realized the key is missing?"

My mom's gaze sharpens. "But we don't have any concrete evidence that this is her doing or anything else for that matter."

I let out a heavy sigh, facing aside, feeling the exhaustion settling in my bones. "I know, but there was something in that locker, mom—something that could change Arlo's entire perception on his family and it's far too important to ignore. And she knows it."

Her hand finds my shoulder and she gives it a reassuring squeeze.

"What did you find?"

I shake my head once, responding with barely a whisper. "Not here. But tomorrow, I'm going to need your assistance with something."

Her brows crease, but she doesn't press any longer, instead, she issues quiet orders to her men. They swiftly begin clearing the house of the bodies, their movements careful but effortless. Once they're done, she turns back to me.

"I'm heading home now," she says, her tone firm. "There will be a car waiting outside to take you, Lumi, and Lily back home. The driver will make sure of your safety, and there will be others following to keep watch."

I nod, my mind already racing through the next steps.

"Where's Cree?" she asks curiously.

"He's with Sara," I mutter, feeling a pang of worry for him.

"I'll make sure her home is under surveillance as well. We can't take any risks," she asserts with a sharp nod.

I stay quiet and she places a soft kiss on my forehead, her touch comforting.

"You did good, baby girl," she says, the pride clear in her voice and a small smile tugs at my lips.

"Thanks, Mom."

When we're finally at my mom's house, it's now early morning and I'm lying in bed with Lumi safely beside me. I stare down at her while leaning on my elbow. She's tucked just beneath me slightly, the duvet over her as she feeds from me, falling back to sleep. I sigh softly, sweeping my fingers through her hair as my mind plays over the dangers we were in and how it makes me feel. This needs to end, all of it. This can't keep happening. Not now she's here.

I reach up for my phone, scrolling through my missed calls from Arlo and finally, I hit call. I press the phone to my ear, feeling tired until finally I hear his angry voice.

"Why the fuck didn't you call me?" he growls.

"Because you wouldn't get here in time, baby." I say softly, not wanting to annoy him further.

"I had to call your fucking mom, do you know how risky that is?"

I rub my tired eyes, "I'm sorry." I murmur.

"Do you know who the fuck it was?" he asks, the fury clear in his tone.

"No, but whoever sent them weren't anyone with a leg to stand on really. I was able to take out a few, so they couldn't have been too skilled."

He stays silent, but it sounds like he is moving quickly.

"What are you doing?" I mumble.

"Coming the fuck home. I need to be there."

I lie my head down, my eyes squeezed shut.

"You don't have to do that, Arlo. I'm safe right now and you have probably just gotten there."

"Fuck that," he hisses. "I'm catching another flight home. I'll see you soon. I love you both."

With that, he hangs up, giving me no time to respond. My mind swirls, knowing I need to get things done before his return, because as soon as I see him, I know I will spill all that I know.

It's late morning, and after a refreshing shower, I feel surprisingly revived, despite the tiredness from last night's madness and the pain in my body. Lumi is downstairs with my dad and after I'm dressed, I pull out my laptop, inserting the secret USB drive. The screen flickers as it loads, and soon enough, a prompt appears asking me to download a large file. My patience wears thin, and I growl in frustration as I accept, but it's slow, too slow.

Knowing I don't have time to wait, I leave it to process until I am back. Snatching my coat off the bed, I quickly slip it on. I take the contract, slide it into my inside pocket, then make my way downstairs.

As we drive in tense silence, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, taking in the sight of my bruised cheek, swollen throat, and busted lip. The evidence of last night's violence too visible.

"Arlo is going to lose his shit," I groan, pushing the mirror away in frustration.

My mom gives a sharp but reassuring reply, "Well, it's much better than being dead."

I don't respond. Instead, I reach into my coat pocket, pulling out the papers I've been dreading to look at again. My gaze drops to the crisp, official documents in my lap. I feel the weight of them as if they're burning into my hands, the truth seeping into every fiber of my being.

My mom notices, glancing over, her curiosity piqued. "What's that?"

Slowly, I tear my eyes away from them and meet her gaze. "Arlo's adoption papers."

"What?" she asks with a side-eye.

I let out a heavy sigh, the burden of the secret growing heavier with each passing second. I look ahead, my hands gripping the documents tighter, the paper crinkling under my grasp.

"Hopefully, we're about to get some answers now. Pull up here," I point to the side of the road.

When the engine cuts, I reach to unbuckle my seatbelt, and my mom mimics my movements.

"Who's house is this, Wren?" she questions.

I don't have time to respond, I just push the car door open and step out before she can say another word. Together, we walk toward the luxurious building ahead. It's not as grand as either mine or my parents, but it's still elegant, dripping with wealth and style. As we reach the door, I press the doorbell and glance over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of my mom with her sunglasses now on, her expression unreadable.

Suddenly, the door swings open, and my attention snaps forward. Vivienne stands before me, her face a perfect mask of calm, though I can sense her shock that I'm here beneath it. Her eyes gradually move to my mom behind me.

"Hello, Hazel. I've been expecting you," Vivienne says and my head jerks back into confusion.

I turn just in time to see my mom yank off her sunglasses, her eyes burning with a kind of anger I've never witnessed before. The shock ripples through me, freezing me in place. This reaction from my mom is rare—almost unnatural—and the fury in her eyes sends a chill down my spine.

Without a word, my mom storms past me, pushing through the door with a kind of authority I didn't even know she possessed. Vivienne, clearly startled, steps back, forced to allow her entrance. I follow them inside, my mind racing with confusion.

"Mom?" I call out as we stop in the foyer. My mom whirls around, her gaze locked on Vivienne, her expression full of anger.

"Wait, you two know each other?" I glance between them both, my confusion mounting.

"Let's take this to another room," Vivienne suggests, trying to maintain control of the situation. For a moment, I consider agreeing—anything to calm the cyclone developing between her and my mom—but the decision is ripped away when Jasper walks in.

He halts in the doorway, his eyes locking onto mine, and instantly, a pang of sadness hits me. Does he know? Or has he been kept in the dark like Arlo?

"Not now, Jasper," Vivienne barks, her voice sharp, but I glare at her.

"You know damn well why I'm here. He deserves to know the truth if he doesn't already," I say firmly.

Jasper frowns, looking between us, his confusion clear. "Know what?" he asks, leaning casually against the doorframe.

When we all stay silent, he pushes off the frame, taking a step toward me, his eyes zeroing in on my bruised cheek and busted lip. I can see the concern flicker across his face, followed by a wince.

"God, Wren. Lil said it was bad, but Arlo is going to lose his mind when he sees you. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I say, offering him a faint smile.

A big grin suddenly spreads across his lips. "But you fucked them up, right?" he teases.

I smile back, matching his, momentarily lost in the moment of our playful, sibling-like banter, forgetting why I'm here in the first place.

"I—"

My mom suddenly clears her throat, pulling me back into the situation we're in. The atmosphere thickens again, and my smile quickly fades.

"We all need to talk," I tell Jasper, peering into his blue eyes with seriousness.

His expression shifts as well, the playfulness slipping, and he straightens up, looking between my mom and Vivienne.

"Follow me," he says, gesturing with a tilt of his head toward another room.

As we walk, my mind races, bracing for whatever truths are about to be revealed. When we enter a dining room, we all stand around in a circle and I shove the adoption papers toward Vivenne.

"What's that?" Jasper asks.

As she takes them gently, I turn to look at Jasper.

"Arlo's adoption papers."

His head jerks back, baffled. "What?"

We all look at Vivienne as she stares down at the papers, clutching them tightly before she lets out a heavy sigh, her eyes lifting to Jasper, almost pleading.

"I was going to tell you, very soon, but I was just trying to find a way."

"Tell me what, Mom?" He questions, taking the papers from her hands and looking down at them.

"Arlo is your twin." She confesses and my head snaps around to look at her, my eyes wide.

"What?" we all gasp at the same time.

Vivienne gives a nod, her eyes brimming with tears as she struggles to speak. "Charles made me separate you two at birth," she chokes out.

My heart pounds in disbelief. Twins? Arlo and Jasper? How did I not see it? They look so much alike, but their ages… it doesn't make sense.

I shake my head, trying to wrap my mind around this. "But there's like two or three years between them," I point out, my tone lined with confusion.

Vivienne shakes her head slowly, her lips trembling. "No. Jasper is Arlo's age. Almost thirty."

Jasper lets out a frustrated growl, throwing his head back before turning around and gripping his hair tightly, his body vibrating with anger. "Why, Mom? Why would you do this?"

"I had no choice," Vivienne whispers, her tears finally spilling over.

"You always have a choice!" Jasper barks, loud with fury.

"I didn't!" Vivienne shoots back, her voice trembling as she relives the past. "You know what Charles was like!"

The room feels like it's closing in, the atmosphere thick with years of lies. I step in, trying to calm the situation. "Look, let's all take a deep breath. Let her explain everything."

We all stand frozen, staring at her, waiting. Vivienne takes a big inhale, straightening her back, though her hands tremble.

"I was, of course, Charles' bit on the side, as he would call it. Coming to me only unleash the monster that lived within him," she admits bitterly. "But after months of abuse, I fell pregnant." She pauses to steady herself. "Charles was furious. At first, he wanted me to abort, but then something changed. He said Carmella couldn't conceive after their daughter, and she wanted a son."

My brows furrow as the silence in the room deepens, suffocating.

"When I gave birth to two boys, Charles was adamant that Carmella didn't want both," she continues. "He said he would only bring up one boy with his wife. As her son and that was Arlo."

Jasper's voice cuts through the air, sharp and filled with anger. "And you agreed to this? Why?"

Vivienne shakes her head, her face crumpling as tears spill freely down her cheeks. "I didn't agree. He forced my hand and took Arlo from me. I fought—I tried so hard to get him back. My God, I did. But it was finalized before I even had a chance. Charles made it his mission to destroy me, to keep me silent. Every time I tried to come near, he'd gaslight everyone, making everyone believe I was crazy. Even you. He drugged me, had me raped, beaten, and locked up more times than I can count. It wasn't until he was officially dead that I was able to break free."

The room falls silent again, the weight of her confession pushing down on us like a cold blanket.

Vivienne's voice softens. "But in time, I realized it wasn't Charles who was the true monster."

"What?" I ask, unsure if I heard her correctly.

Her eyes meet mine, locking onto me with a haunting gaze. "Carmella."

I blink, taken aback. "Carmella what?"

"She orchestrated it all," Vivienne admits. "And I had to sit back and watch it unfold, powerless. The way she treated him... used him... taught him. She hated him, resented him from the moment she laid eyes on him. She made him suffer for Charles' mistakes—and mine. But he let her. He knew what she was doing, and he went along with it. They were as bad as each other. In the end, they built a bond through the destruction of me and my boys. But no one suffered more than Arlo."

Her words slice through me like a dagger to the heart, and I feel them sinking in, syllable by syllable. My eyes brim with unshed tears as a horrifying truth starts to bury itself deep inside me. This is why Carmella was never really maternal toward Arlo, why she never treated him like a son. All the subtle neglect, the cold distance—it all makes sense now. He wasn't hers to love.

"She wanted power more than anyone in this city," Vivienne continues, filled with regret. "Carmella would've torn everyone apart to get what she wanted. She didn't care who she destroyed in the process, not even a child. Especially not Arlo."

I feel my stomach churn, memories of Carmella's icy demeanor toward Arlo flashing through my mind. It wasn't just lack of interest. It was something darker, something that shaped who Arlo became. The distance, the hardness—it wasn't only Charles' doing. Carmella had poisoned everything, moulding Arlo into a weapon to serve her own control. Her own hunger. She used him to gain and keep it all.

"So, what did you do?" I ask.

Vivienne's eyes harden. "I set plans in motion," she says. "I couldn't stop everything while I was inside that place, but I tried to soften the damage. I had to. I knew if I didn't, she would crush anyone who stood in her way."

I nod for her to continue and her eyes flash to my moms, fixed and focused.

"I built my relationships and trust back up with secret allies within the Elites," Vivienne continues, her voice gaining strength as if confessing her sins gives her some kind of release.

Behind me, my mom scoffs, the sound sharp and disgusted. It grabs my attention instantly, and I turn to look at her. She's standing with her arms folded across her chest, her gaze avoiding mine, her expression darkened by something I can't quite understand.

"First, it was you, Wren," Vivienne says softly.

My eyes drift back to her, and I see the hesitation in her face, a sheepish look.

"After Bridget was murdered, I knew it was the beginning of Arlo's downfall. The control they were starting to have over him," she continues. "They were pressuring him to marry a woman who was simply using him, someone who would likely destroy him in the end. Another control freak bitch," she spits out the last word with venom, and I don't even have to ask—I know she's talking about, Savannah.

The mere mention of that name sends a chill through me and I feel my jaw clench instinctively, but Vivienne's words keep cutting deeper.

"Then I found out you had moved to New York, and it all made sense," Vivienne says, her gaze easing as it meets mine.

Her tone makes me squint, suspicion prickling at the back of my mind. "What made sense?"

"I called my hacker," she says, quieter now, as if she's confessing something, "and had them make sure your job post on that website was the only one visible to Sara."

For a second, I don't understand and I zone out, trying to fit puzzle pieces that I can't fit together.

Then it hits me.

My jaw drops as the realization slams into me. All this time, fucking everything—meeting Arlo, the madness

that followed—it wasn't fate. We hadn't found each other by chance. We were pushed together on purpose.

My eyes flutter closed as it slams down on my heart, my mind reeling. Vivienne had set us up. Manipulated shit behind the scenes to make sure our paths crossed. My breath stops altogether, and when I reopen my eyes, I feel like the ground beneath is opening up, ready to swallow me down into the darkness.

"So... none of this was real?" I whisper, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

Vivienne shakes her head quickly, panic flashing across her face. "No, Wren. That's not what I meant. I didn't make you two fall in love. I couldn't have predicted that. But I knew... I knew you'd be good for him. Better than anyone else could have ever been. Your intensions have always been good for Arlo. You've given him life and love again. You've given him what he desperately needed."

The room suddenly feels too small. Realizing that my entire relationship with Arlo—our connection, our love—started because of someone's calculated fucking move makes my stomach churn. Rage boils under my skin, my chest tightening just as my mother's sharp voice suddenly slashes through the rising fire inside me.

"I told you to stay the fuck away from my family," she bites and the force of her anger is shocking—I've never heard her curse, but it's what she said that throws me off .

"I knew if Wren was with Arlo, you had no choice but to protect them all, Hazel," Vivienne retorts, "as a family. But you didn't, did you? You left my son for dead in Mexico, and I had to pick up the fucking pieces."

My nose scrunches in confusion as I glance between my mom and Vivienne.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Vivienne stands her ground, her chin lifting defiantly. "I paid the man in Mexico to find and collect Arlo. I arranged for him to be taken to Brazil, treated, and nursed back to health until he could return to New York."

Her words slam into me like a freight train, freezing the blood in my veins. My heart seems to stop and I whip around to face my mother, fixing her with a glare that could burn holes through her.

"You fucking knew about this?" I shout, my disbelief echoing through the room.

My mom's face tightens, and she hesitates before answering. "No. Well... I didn't until shortly before his return."

The raw anger that surges through me is almost uncontrollable. My fists clench, every fiber of my being fighting the urge to lash out. How could she keep this from me? How could both of them keep this from us?

"I feel like beating the shit out of you right now," I grind out through clenched teeth.

She stares at me, her eyes softening with something that looks like regret, but it's not enough. Not for me. Not after all the lies, the secrets. Not after this.

"You could have told me. You could have—" I start, my voice breaking as the betrayal cuts deeper than any wound.

"I thought I was protecting you," she says gently. "I was trying to keep you out of the mess... out of the danger."

"Protect me?" I scoff bitterly. "By keeping me in the dark? By lying to me after all this time? You put me more in danger by not telling me, Mom!"

"But I did tell you. I gave you something, Carmella, and that is why we're here today, right?"

With wide eyes, I look between the two women who have played with my life, my family's life, like it was some kind of sick fucking game. Everything I thought I knew—about Arlo, about my mother, about the world I grew up in—has been shattered in an instant.

Vivienne speaks up, her voice laced with defensiveness, aimed toward me. "You think I wanted this, Wren? You think I wanted to pull you into this mess? I was trying to protect my son."

I whirl on her, my anger spilling over. "But you didn't protect him, did you? I shout. "You both played god with our lives, and now look where we are!"

"And me and Lil?" Jasper suddenly asks and we all look into his expectant eyes.

Jasper's question lingers until we then all shift our focus to Vivienne.

"You and Lily found each other purely by chance," Vivienne says with a headshake. "I had nothing to do with that."

Jasper's eyes widen, but before he can respond, my mom jumps in. "Vivienne's not even her real name, so I wouldn't have known at that point to stop anything." She pauses, the hatred pouring out of her. "Her birth name is Cleo. I didn't even know Arlo was adopted or that he was Jaspers twin."

I suck in a sharp breath, completely thrown off. "And how the fuck do you two know each other?" I grit out, my patience cracking.

My mom shifts, locking eyes with Vivienne as if they've been holding onto some ancient grudge. "She's my step-cousin," my mom says flatly.

Jasper gasps audibly, but I just shake my head, feeling like I'm caught in some kind of nightmare I can't wake up from. It just gets worse.

"When we were younger, my grandfather—" Vivienne begins.

"My grandfather," my mom cuts in with a glare that could cut glass.

Vivienne rolls her eyes in frustration but quickly composes herself. "Ours," she emphasizes before her focus snaps back to me. "When he died, I was supposed to take the title of Ghost."

The confession hits me like a sledgehammer, and I glance at my mom, but she doesn't flinch, she just stares at me.

"But I made mistakes," Vivienne continues. "I exposed myself too much in the wrong kind of crime and because of that, the title was handed to the next in line." She gestures towards my mom with a reluctant wave of her hand. "Hazel."

Mom's eyes move to Vivienne, cold and steady. "And for good reason," she adds with a scowl, daring Vivienne to continue.

Vivienne straightens her posture, but there's a weariness now. "Hazel and I never really got along. She told me I wasn't fit to be involved with the family or any part of the high Elite. So I left California. Moved to New York and fell into the lower, but darker side of the Elite world under a new name... because I couldn't escape the pull of crime. It's naturally in my blood. It's what I was born into."

My mom's expression hardens further. "And why did I tell you that you couldn't be part of the family, Cleo? Why did I forbid you from becoming an official Elite?"

Vivienne's shoulders sag, the defeat clear in her posture. "I had faults," she murmurs. "I was young, naive."

"Mistakes?" my mom barks, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You almost exposed the entire family—our heritage and power—to the world. You were reckless, arrogant, and careless. You were never fit to be Ghost."

I stand there, my head lowered, trying to piece everything together. Everytime they say something, it stings, because I know deep down that every word they've said is the cold, hard truth. This is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

Jasper now uncomfortable breaks the silence that followed, "So... now what happens?"

I sigh heavily, lifting my eyes to meet his. "Arlo. That's what happens," I reply in defeat. "He's coming home, and I am not lying to him any longer."

I glance around the room, making sure everyone understands.

"Be ready for his wrath. He's not going to be happy about this. Not any of it."