SKYLAR'S POV
"BIG SIS! BIG SIS! BIG SIS!"
If someone had told me that four children could turn an entire mansion upside down in less than ten minutes, I would have laughed.
Now, I was beginning to question my decision to come home.
"Can you teach me how to throw a knife?" Noah asked, practically bouncing beside me.
"No," Damien answered from behind us.
"Dad, I asked Big Sis!"
"And I answered you."
Nathan burst into laughter. Nicholas joined him, while Ava climbed onto the sofa beside me and rested her head against my arm.
"Don't mind them," she whispered. "They're always fighting."
"I can hear you!" Noah protested.
"Good!" Ava shouted back.
I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd laughed like this.
For ten years, my life had been a carefully arranged routine of training, missions, pain, and survival. I had learned to sleep lightly, trust cautiously, and never turn my back on anyone.
But these four little troublemakers seemed determined to destroy every wall I had built around myself.
Ava lifted her face.
"Big Sis?"
"Hmm?"
"Will you sleep in our rooms tonight?"
I blinked. "Why?"
"Because we want to tell you everything you've missed."
Nathan nodded enthusiastically. "I'll tell you about the time Noah broke Dad's favourite vase."
"I didn't break it!" Noah shouted.
"You threw the ball!"
"The vase was in the way!"
Nicholas sighed dramatically. "This family is embarrassing."
I laughed again, pulling Ava closer.
"Another night, sweetheart. I need to unpack first."
Her expression fell.
Then she brightened.
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
She held out her little finger.
"Promise?"
I linked mine with hers.
"Promise."
Something warm settled in my chest.
For the first time, I wasn't merely the girl who had returned after ten years.
I was their big sister.
And I wanted to be worthy of the name.
Unfortunately, I had no idea how to explain to four innocent children that their mother was missing and that I had received a threat warning me not to trust anyone.
Including, perhaps, the people standing right in front of me.
---
DAMlEN'S STUDY
I found Damien in his study after dinner.
He was standing near the window with his phone pressed to his ear, speaking in a low, dangerous voice.
"Search every property we own. Check the private airports, the border routes, and every safe house. I want answers before midnight."
He ended the call when he noticed me.
"Skylar."
"Where is my mother?"
His expression tightened.
There it was again.
That tiny hesitation adults always thought children couldn't see.
Except I wasn't a child anymore.
"Your mother has been missing for several hours," he admitted.
"Missing?"
"I received a call earlier. She left the house to attend a meeting, but she never arrived at her destination."
"Who was she meeting?"
"I don't know."
I stared at him.
"You're telling me that my mother disappeared, and you don't know where she was going?"
"I'm trying to find her."
"And what exactly have you been doing all these hours?"
His eyes darkened.
"Be careful how you speak to me, Skylar."
"Then give me a reason to speak respectfully."
Silence fell between us.
I knew I had crossed a line, but I didn't care.
My mother was missing.
I had spent ten years away from her. Ten years imagining the day I would return home and finally have the chance to make up for everything we had lost.
Now, someone had taken that opportunity away.
I placed the silver case on his desk.
"Do you recognize this?"
Damien's gaze dropped to it.
For one fleeting moment, his face went completely pale.
Then the expression disappeared.
"Where did you get that?"
"My final mission in Russia."
He looked at me sharply.
"What was inside?"
I opened the case and removed the photograph of the three infants.
Damien stared at it.
His fingers curled against the edge of the desk.
"Where did you find this photograph?"
"I was hoping you could tell me."
He didn't answer.
Instead, he picked up the document bearing my mother's name.
I watched him carefully.
He knew something.
I could feel it.
"Damien," I said quietly. "What are you hiding?"
He placed the paper back on the desk.
"Nothing that concerns you."
I laughed without humour.
"Someone has kidnapped my mother, and you think this doesn't concern me?"
"Skylar, there are things about your mother's past that you don't understand."
"Then explain them!"
"Not now."
I took a step closer.
"If anything happens to her because you decided to keep secrets, I swear—"
The door opened before I could finish.
A man stood in the doorway.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dressed in a black shirt with his sleeves rolled to his elbows.
His hair was darker than I remembered, his jaw sharper, and his expression far more serious than the mischievous smile I carried in my childhood memories.
But those eyes—
I knew those eyes.
Ryker Xane Pantoshi.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
He stared at me as if he couldn't believe I was real.
I forgot how to breathe.
"Skylar?" he whispered.
My name sounded different in his voice.
Older.
Deeper.
Dangerously familiar.
I forced a smile.
"Hello, Ryker."
He crossed the room so quickly that I barely had time to react before he pulled me into his arms.
I froze.
His embrace was warm and firm, and for one terrible second, I was eight years old again, standing in the garden while a little boy promised that he would always protect me.
"Ten years," he murmured against my hair. "You were gone for ten years."
I swallowed.
"You counted?"
He pulled back, his hands resting on my shoulders.
"Every single one."
Something inside me twisted.
I had prepared myself for an awkward reunion. I had imagined that he might greet me politely, perhaps offer a handshake, and then return to his life.
I hadn't expected him to look at me as though my absence had left a wound.
"You've changed," I whispered.
"So have you."
His gaze travelled over my face, stopping briefly at the faint scar near my eyebrow.
"How did you get that?"
"Training."
His jaw tightened.
"Of course."
I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I don't like the idea of you getting hurt."
A strange silence followed.
Damien cleared his throat.
"Ryker, your sister has only just arrived."
The word sister brought me back to reality.
I stepped away from Ryker.
"Right."
His expression changed slightly, as though he had noticed my sudden distance.
"You look tired," he said.
"I've travelled a long way."
"Then I'll show you to your room."
"I already know where it is."
"Skylar—"
"I'm not the little girl who used to follow you around anymore, Ryker."
The words came out sharper than I intended.
He stared at me.
Then he nodded slowly.
"I know."
I turned away before he could see the guilt on my face.
Because the truth was, I had spent ten years wondering whether he remembered me.
Now I knew he did.
And somehow, that was more dangerous than if he had forgotten.
---
RYKER'S POV
She was different.
The little girl who used to steal my food and pull my hair had grown into someone I barely recognized.
Skylar walked like she was always prepared for an attack. Her eyes searched every corner of a room, and she seemed to notice things other people missed.
She was beautiful, but that wasn't what unsettled me.
It was the distance.
She had returned home, yet she stood before me like a stranger.
I had imagined our reunion countless times.
In some versions, she ran into my arms.
In others, she punched me for not visiting Russia.
I had never imagined her looking at me with guarded eyes and reminding me that she was no longer the little girl I remembered.
"Stop staring at the door," Damien said.
I looked at him.
"I'm not."
"Of course you're not."
I ignored his sarcasm.
"Why is she back now?"
"Her training is complete."
"And Mira?"
Damien's expression darkened.
"She's missing."
My blood ran cold.
"What?"
"We're searching for her."
"Since when?"
"Since earlier today."
I turned towards the door.
"Then what are we doing standing here?"
"Ryker."
I stopped.
Damien's voice had taken on the tone he used when he wanted me to understand that something was more complicated than it appeared.
"Skylar must not know everything yet."
I stared at him.
"She's Mira's daughter."
"Exactly."
His words made no sense.
Before I could demand an explanation, my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen.
THE DAUGHTER HAS RETURNED. THE GAME CAN BEGIN.
I read it twice.
Then another message arrived.
KEEP HER AWAY FROM THE TRUTH, OR SHE WILL LOSE EVERYTHING.
I lifted my eyes towards Damien.
He had received a message too.
I could tell by the way he stared at his phone.
For the first time in my life, I wondered whether my father was afraid of someone.
And if he was, what exactly had that person done?
---
SKYLAR'S POV
I stood alone on the balcony outside my bedroom, staring at the dark gardens below.
Ryker's embrace lingered in my mind.
His voice.
His eyes.
The way he had said he counted every year I was gone.
I pressed my fingers against my lips, frustrated with myself.
He was my stepbrother.
My family.
The boy I had once loved in the innocent way children loved the people who made them feel safe.
That was all he could ever be.
I repeated the words until they almost sounded convincing.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
My fingers tightened around it.
YOU HAVE RETURNED TO THE WRONG HOUSE.
Another message appeared.
ASK DAMIEN WHO THE THREE CHILDREN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH REALLY ARE.
My blood ran cold.
I glanced towards the study.
Damien had recognized that photograph.
He had known something about it.
And now someone was telling me to question him.
I typed a reply.
WHO ARE YOU?
The response arrived immediately.
SOMEONE WHO KNOWS WHAT YOUR MOTHER DID.
I stared at the screen.
Then the final message appeared.
IF YOU WANT TO SAVE MIRA, DON'T TRUST YOUR FATHER.
I lowered the phone slowly.
Outside, the mansion was peaceful. Somewhere inside, Ava and her brothers were probably arguing over who would sit beside me at breakfast.
Ryker was only a few rooms away.
And my mother was somewhere in the hands of someone who knew my family's darkest secrets.
I had returned home hoping to reclaim the life I had lost.
Instead, I had walked straight into a war.
I slipped the phone into my pocket and looked towards the distant gates.
Whoever had taken my mother had made one mistake.
They thought I had returned as a daughter desperate for love.
They had forgotten that Russia had taught me how to become a weapon.
And I was ready to remind them.