Using a satellite phone, Lucius spoke with his father and brought back the news. I had been dancing alone in the living room to a beautiful 1950s song; I hated him for shutting off the music, but I quickly realized it was serious.
Killian walked inside. It was dark outside, and he looked incredibly thrilled, like a little kid. He pointed toward the east and said, "Hey, that storm is massive! Really unusual for this area."
Lucius tapped his index finger against his phone twice, a gesture that immediately let his brother know Mr. Longfield had issued specific instructions.
We sat down on these low, elongated couches—I honestly don't know what you call them—upholstered in a deep navy blue. The guys poured themselves some whiskey, while they poured me a glass of wine.
"Should I start with the good news or the bad news?" Lucius asked.
"The good news," Killian and I blurted out at the exact same time. We locked eyes and laughed, sharing a sweet sense of complicity that I absolutely adore.
"Come on, Lucius, spit it out already!" I urged.
"Alright, there are three pieces of good news," Lucius began. "First, Evangelina and my father have officially reached an agreement. The empires will undergo a gradual integration leading to a total merger. There's just one final detail to smooth out, but we are going to become Longfield-Bance, the largest corporation on the planet. Congratulations, everyone."
Killian clapped his hands and shouted with pure enthusiasm, and I realized just how much that world truly mattered to him. Intrigued, I eagerly asked, "What else?"
Lucius continued, "The girls we rescued received a massive financial settlement from the Bances. I'm really happy for them. In fact, Marian Pierce and her parents are now independently wealthy, and they plan to use that money to fund an organization to help other victims of psychopaths."
"And the third piece of good news... I don't really know how to say this without it sounding strange, but... Dad was either a little tipsy or just incredibly happy. I have no idea what the hell has gotten into him, but he sounded completely cheerful."
"It's Ursula," I chimed in. "That's what's gotten into him. She loves him."
"I knew it!" Killian exclaimed. "I always knew it. Lucius kept insisting otherwise, but I knew she wasn't staying at the mansion strictly for a paycheck."
"She's a good woman," Lucius noted, "but we all know what Dad is like. I just hope he doesn't retreat into his shell again this time. Now, listen... we have some bad news. First off, the media isn't talking about anything but us. The photo from the dinner party only managed to quiet things down for a single day. Now, the burning question on every channel and platform is: Who does Carmilla love? They've already dug up the fact that Killian gifted you his car and that you own a luxury apartment in Paris, which you received as an advance for the perfume line. The marketing team is going to leverage your name for the official launch. And here is the other bad news... they are completely fascinated by your backstory. They went to the house where you lived as a child, before Mary Garden. They even... I am so sorry, but they have photographs of your parents, and of the accident."
Of course I started crying. I instantly guessed that my aunt—that wicked woman I ran away from—had sold everything to the press. I needed to see those images. I couldn't just pretend everything was fine when someone out there was fabricating my life story just to sell commercial slots.
Killian wrapped his arms around me tightly. "I'm heading down to the hangar. The jet gets its own dedicated signal. Down there, next to it, I can have them forward everything being broadcast straight to my phone."
I thanked him with a kiss, and he left immediately. Lucius took my hands in his, and I begged him to tell me something—anything—to distract me.
"My father mentioned that Evangelina asked us for a favor," he said. "Apparently, her cousin Bruce walked out on her again. He went right back to his life as a detective, even though she begged him to stay and offered him an elite executive position in the empire. She couldn't keep him. She wants us to track him down and put him on our payroll instead."
I told him I would call Evangelina the second our phone coverage returned. Then I asked him to put the music back on. I desperately needed to flush this heavy sadness out of my mind. A slow ballad began to play in a language I couldn't recognize. Lucius remained standing to the side for a moment, but then he stepped forward and invited me to dance, placing his hands in the exact position I had taught him, which managed to coax a smile out of me.
The space wasn't exactly a grand ballroom, but we swayed to the rhythm, and he was actually doing a remarkably good job. Leaning down close to my ear, he whispered, "Did you happen to bring that enchanting shirt with the missing button? The one you wore back then?"
I blushed and told him no, though deep down, I loved that he remembered those tiny details.
We were dancing close against each other now. I could feel his steady breath hovering right over my hair. He lifted my chin gently with one hand, causing our gaze to lock. He didn't ask what he could do to take my mind off things; he never asks, he just takes action.
His hand slid gently around the back of my neck. I was still wearing my bikini top, and my breasts reacted instantly to his touch—and I knew for a fact he noticed. I leaned heavily against his chest, murmuring, "What will become of us in a few years? When you don't find me attractive anymore, or when you get so furious with me that you can't forgive me?"
He answered without a moment's hesitation, "Don't talk nonsense, little girl. Look at us. This is exactly how we'll be in a few years. Stop worrying about a thing."
I smiled again and asked, "Don't you worry about anything?"
This time he paused for a few seconds, letting go of me and stepping back a pace. "I can't stop thinking about what my father said regarding Marian Pierce and the victims of those psychopaths. Are there other people out there right now, locked away and utterly terrified?"
"Wow. I really didn't expect that from you," I admitted, and it was the honest truth. He had never previously shown any outward trauma from what we endured in that mansion. Of course, girl, he hadn't asked me that expecting an answer I don't possess; he said it to let me know that a part of him remained trapped back there, inside those cages where those poor women were held captive.
I switched off the music and replied, "I don't think we'll ever cross paths with anyone like Annia or her father again, if that's what's bothering you. I just hope no one else ever has to live through that."
"Exactly," he muttered. "It's statistically impossible for us to live through that twice... unless we're the ones actively looking for them."
"Technically, Bruce was the one who found them," I countered. "Evangelina, Killian, and the rest of us were completely oblivious. I really don't think playing detective is our calling."
"You have a point," he conceded, "but no, it's actually the exact opposite. Bruce wasn't involved with her, and he was hired specifically to shadow her. Annia and her father weren't even that meticulous about selecting their victims; they just covered everything up using their sheer wealth and influence, which is exactly where my train of thought is heading. Moving forward, we are going to possess more power than anyone. I'm just thinking out loud here... wondering if we should use it for something more than just growing our wealth."
I stepped closer and lightly caressed his face, but only for a fleeting second because Killian burst through the door, speaking rapidly.
"I caught the tail end of that, and I am completely on board with him," Killian announced. "Come on, Carmilla, don't look at me like that! For the first time in his life, I actually hear him saying something sensible. Just imagine... we have completely limitless resources at our disposal, and the press is already labeling us as real-life superheroes. Count me in. I'm in."
Then his expression grew somber as he looked at me. "I have the full news broadcast compilation right here on my phone. Are you absolutely certain you want to watch this?"
"Yes," I pleaded, "but only if you both swear that you'll stay right here with me and hold me."
Lucius positioned himself in front of the television and pulled me to his side. Killian synced the screen to his phone, and both of them wrapped their strong arms around me. The exposé on my past had officially begun.
A news anchor was congratulating herself for gaining exclusive access to the police report from the car crash that killed my parents and left me severely injured. Graphic forensic photos of the mangled vehicle flashed on the screen. Killian immediately covered my eyes, refusing to let me look. I could hear the woman's voice:
"Carmilla managed to escape the wreckage under her own power, crawling out despite severe injuries to her back. The mangled corpses of the Stone couple remained trapped inside the vehicle. Broken bottles and crushed alcohol cans are clearly visible inside the cabin."
Yes, girl, my birth name is Stone. I had completely blocked it out. It wasn't that I couldn't remember it; I just chose to leave it behind.
The anchor continued:
"This is how Carmilla was photographed at the hospital, her unmistakable eyes staring blankly into nothingness. And here we have another photograph of her—my goodness, this shows the stitches across her lower back. She was so incredibly small."
This time, it was Lucius who firmly ordered his brother, "Killian, don't let her see this. Keep her eyes covered, please."
The woman on the television screen wondered aloud, "How could anyone put a young child through something so horrific?"
Killian held me tight against him; I couldn't see a single thing. I could feel his hands trembling slightly.
I heard a different segment begin. A different female voice—a YouTuber, likely—said:
"This is Carmilla Morris's childhood home. The current owner allowed us inside and is going to tell us everything she found the day she moved into this tiny house in the poorest neighborhood in the city."
I begged Killian to let me watch this part, and he slowly pulled his hands away. My eyes didn't linger on the images of that cramped, unfamiliar property; instead, they locked onto Lucius, who was silently crying. He wasn't even looking at the television—he was staring directly at me, his lower lip trembling. I heard Killian break down into tears as well, and both of them squeezed me tightly. I had asked them to comfort me, but now I was the one kissing them and swearing that I was fine, that it was all in the past.
It took them several minutes to calm down, until a photo of me taken just before Carol adopted me caught me off guard. They both started crying again and covered my face, but it was already too late.
I didn't let them turn off the TV. I wanted to see if I could find something good—something that might remind me of a moment of happiness—but everything focused on the tragedy. Maybe there was nothing else. They didn't let me look again until they started talking about Carol.
The screen showed a photograph of her beside Mary, her daughter, dressed as a ballerina. Both of them looked beautiful. Then a couple who had been friends of hers spoke. They were asked what I was like and how Carol treated me. The woman said:
"We used to visit them once a year and stay for three days at Mary Garden. Carol was a saint, completely devoted to Carmilla. The girl laughed all day, said 'thank you' three times in a row, and was always among the flowers in the garden. When I asked why, Carol told me, 'Because the flowers were sad and they needed her. They needed to feel loved by a girl that beautiful.'"
A strong gust of wind cut the power, plunging everything into darkness for a second before the generators came on. We didn't turn the television back on.
They wanted to say something, but I wasn't in a state to hear it. I kissed them goodbye and said, "Nothing that happened to me is my fault. I'm fine, thanks to Carol. They really tried to hurt me. I know you want to say a lot about what you saw; don't. I'd rather you write it to me. I need to lie down now."
Lightning lit up the windows. I couldn't sleep. So I started singing a lullaby softly, trying to calm myself, thanking her for loving me. Slowly, my eyes closed, and I fell asleep.
The sound of the hurricane woke me hours later. Two notes had been slipped under my door.
Lucius's note read:
"I'm sorry for crying. I tried to hold it back, but I couldn't. I don't understand how anyone could do that. I've never known anyone who went through something like you did, and you don't even hold resentment. Let's talk about this more often; I'd like you to teach me how you do it someday. I love you. Rest. When you wake up, knock on my wall and I'll come right away."
I sighed. Honestly, just imagining Lucius asking me for help made me feel good.
I opened the other note. Killian had written:
"Don't worry, little girl. When we have daughters, we'll fill them with kisses, gifts, and treats. I'll never hurt them. I'm sure they'll be very, very happy. —K.
P.S. If you want me, my love, no matter the time, knock on my wall and I'll be there."
I smiled and sighed again.
Tap, tap...
"Are you there for me?" I whispered into the dark.
A door opened... he was coming.