Elena's body stiffened when her eyes met her.
"Aunt Maria?" she whispered.
The woman turned at once, her own eyes wide and teary.
"Elena?"
Elena froze for a second, unable to believe it. Then, like a burst of emotion she couldn't hold back, she ran forward.
They collided in a tight embrace, tears slipping down Elena's cheeks as she held onto the only family she had left.
"I thought I lost you," Maria whispered, her voice trembling.
Elena shook her head, crying harder.
"I missed you so much… I thought I'd never see you again."
An hour ago,
Maria sat quietly in the large guest room.
The mansion was silent except for the faint ticking of a golden clock on the wall.
Her mind wasn't there — it was far away, lost in the face of the man she had seen earlier that day.
Diego.
Just thinking of him made her chest tighten. The years hadn't erased the pain, the betrayal… or the memory of that tiny cry the day her daughter was taken from her arms.
She pressed a hand to her lips, her eyes heavy with unshed tears.
My baby… where are you now? she thought bitterly.
The door opened suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts.
A guard stepped in, bowing slightly, his voice formal but urgent.
"Ma'am, Master asked me to inform you — you'll be meeting with your niece today."
Maria froze, the words taking a moment to sink in.
"My… my niece?" she repeated softly, her voice trembling.
"Yes, ma'am. He said she'll be brought down soon."
For a second, Maria didn't move. Then she slowly rose from the couch, her heartbeat racing faster than it had in years.
Tears filled her eyes before she could stop them. She turned toward the window, pressing a hand to her chest, whispering under her breath.
"Thank you… thank you."
Her knees almost gave out from the rush of emotion — hope, fear, joy — everything all at once.
She smoothed her hair with trembling fingers, trying to calm herself, but her lips couldn't stop trembling.
Her hands twisted together in nervous excitement.
Back to present;
Maria brushed her hair back gently.
"My sweet girl…" she breathed, tears glistening in her eyes.
They held each other for a long moment, whispering each other's names through tears, until Elena felt someone's gaze on her.
She turned and saw Damian standing a few steps away—his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
Before she could say anything, he turned away and left the room, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall.
Elena wiped her tears and turned back to her aunt, smiling softly through the wetness on her cheeks.
"How are you now?" she asked gently, her fingers still resting on Maria's hands seeing that she had gained more weight.
Maria gave a small nod, her voice quiet but firm.
"I'm better now. My health is much better."
Elena's smile grew wider, her heart light for the first time in so long.
"Do you want to make pie?" she asked with a soft laugh, her tone filled with warmth.
"You remember how you used to let me roll the dough?"
Maria chuckled, brushing her cheek. "I could never forget. Let's make it together again, hm?"
***
The car door shut behind him with a heavy thud. "Drive," he ordered, his voice low and cold.
The driver didn't ask questions. The black car rolled smoothly out of the mansion's gate.
His fingers tapped slowly on the armrest, his mind far from calm.
He hated when emotions tried to pull him in—especially after seeing Elena smile like that.
It did something to him, something he didn't like to admit.
The car came to a slow stop in front of a dimly lit building. His detective was already waiting outside, sweating despite the cool evening breeze.
"Mr. Damian," the man greeted nervously, bowing slightly.
"Where are the evidences?" Damian asked flatly, stepping out of the car.
His tone was calm, but there was a sharpness under it that made the man tremble.
The detective swallowed hard, gesturing toward a thick brown envelope on the table inside.
"It's all here—everything about Leonid. The documents, the call records, the accounts he moved… I made sure no one else saw them."
Damian walked in slowly, his eyes dark and unreadable. He picked up the envelope, opened it, and scanned through the files.
Every photo, every report—it all lined up with his suspicion.
Leonid's name was everywhere, his connections hidden deep but not deep enough for Damian's reach.
A faint, humorless smile tugged at his lips. "Good," he murmured. "You did well."
He gave a small nod to one of his men, who stepped forward, taking the envelope and standing silently behind Damian like a shadow.
The detective looked relieved, but only for a moment—until Damian's gaze lifted to him again.
"Not a word of this to anyone," Damian said quietly, his tone low and dangerous.
"If a whisper of this leaves your mouth, you'll wish you never learned to speak."
The man nodded rapidly, his face pale. "Y-Yes, sir."
Damian turned, the sound of his shoes echoing on the concrete as he headed back to the car. The night wind brushed against his face, carrying the scent of smoke and asphalt.
He slipped into the back seat, staring out the window.
Leonid's face burned in his mind, and the image of Elena hugging her aunt flashed right after.
Two different worlds—light and darkness—both pulling him in opposite directions.