Luca POV:

I should've been there.

I didn't know how many times that thought had crossed my mind. A hundred? A thousand? It never changed anything, but it still haunted me like a ghost, whispering in the back of my mind every time I looked at her.

She was right there, just a few rooms away, small and quiet, curled into herself like she didn't want to take up too much space. Like she didn't know she was allowed to exist without permission.

That wasn't how it was supposed to be.

I had barely known her before she was taken. She had been a baby, tiny and helpless, but I still remembered her. I remembered how she fit against my chest, how she'd grip my fingers with hers, how I swore even back then that I would protect her.

And I had failed.

I leaned back in my chair, staring blankly at the papers in front of me, knowing damn well I wasn't getting anything done tonight. My mind was somewhere else—stuck in the past, stuck in the what-ifs, stuck on her.

I wanted to ask.

I wanted to know what had happened to her.

Every time I looked at her, I could see the weight she carried, the ghosts in her eyes. I could see the way she hesitated before speaking, like she had to measure every word, like saying the wrong thing would have consequences. I could see the fear, the exhaustion, the way she watched us when she thought we weren't looking.

I wanted to know what they had done to her.

I wanted to know so I could make them pay.

But I was scared.

Scared of what she'd say. Scared of how deep the damage went. Scared that no matter what I did, I would never be able to fix it.

And I wanted to fix it. God, I wanted to fix it.

I didn't just want her to be safe. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to smile without hesitation, to laugh without flinching, to know—really know—that she wasn't alone.

I wanted her to have the childhood she had been robbed of.

I wanted her to come to me when she was upset, to sit with me like she used to—except she had never really gotten the chance to. I had imagined it so many times, her as a toddler, running around the house, getting into trouble, climbing into my lap when she was tired.

But that had never happened.

She had been taken before she could even walk.

Before I could really know her.

And now, I had her back, and I still didn't know her.

Not the way I wanted to.

I ran a hand down my face, sighing heavily.

I didn't know how to do this.

I knew how to run an empire. I knew how to handle threats, how to negotiate, how to kill a man without losing sleep over it. I knew how to do a million things that no kid should ever have to learn.

But I didn't know how to be an older brother to a girl who had lived through hell.

I didn't know how to fix what had been broken.

All I could do was be here.

And pray that one day, she would let me in. All I needed to think about was that fact that my sister is here, I should feel relieved.

But when I walked down the dimly lit hallway, pausing in front of her door, I didn't feel relief. I felt something heavier—something tight and aching in my chest.

Because I had her back, but she wasn't the same little girl I remembered.

I pressed my palm against the wood, not knocking, just standing there, listening. The house was quiet. Too quiet. It had been ever since she came back, like everyone was too afraid to breathe wrong around her.

She should've been sleeping. It was late. But I knew she wasn't.

She was always awake.

I wanted to see her, to talk to her, but I didn't know if she'd want that. And the last thing I wanted was to make her feel like she had to entertain me, like she had to pretend she was okay when we both knew she wasn't.

I lowered my hand, exhaling sharply, and turned away.

I needed to get some air.

I found myself outside on the balcony, overlooking the estate. The security team was on full rotation, guards stationed at every possible entrance. Floodlights cast long shadows over the grounds. The perimeter was locked down, tighter than ever.

Because she was here.

And because now, they knew she was here.

I clenched my jaw, gripping the railing.

There had been whispers—movement from an old enemy. A message intercepted, something vague, something that made my blood run cold the second I read it.

The girl is back.

That was all it said. That was all it needed to say.

I wasn't going to let anything happen to her. Not again.

But the problem was, I didn't know what had already happened to her.

And I was afraid to ask.

I had spent years searching, years waiting for the day she'd come home, but I never let myself think too much about what those years had been like for her. Because if I did, I would've lost my mind.

I still might.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady my breathing. I was the one who was supposed to hold everything together, the one everyone relied on. But right now, I felt like I was failing.

She was home. But she wasn't safe. Not really.

Not from them.

Not from the past.

Not even from herself.

I turned back toward the house, toward her window. The light was still on.

I wanted to check on her. I wanted to tell her I'd protect her, that no one would ever hurt her again.

But I didn't want to scare her.

So I stood there in the quiet, watching over her from a distance, the same way I always had.

And I wished, more than anything, that she could just be a kid again. That she could go to school, laugh with friends, complain about homework. That she could have a life outside of all this.

That she didn't have to be afraid anymore.

But wishes didn't mean anything in our world.

And I would do whatever it took to make sure she never had to be afraid again.

I just wanted to do something, anything, to help her. I just want her back. Waiting, standing here, just watching—it wasn't enough.

I had spent too many years feeling powerless when it came to her. Too many nights lying awake, wondering if she was warm, if she was hungry, if she was safe. I had been the one to protect my brothers, to keep our empire standing, to make sure no one dared cross our family. But her?

I hadn't been able to protect her at all.

And now she was back. In our home. In her room. Right there.

But she still felt out of reach.

I turned back toward her window, the dim glow of the lamp casting soft shadows against the curtains. I could see the shape of her, curled up, small, like she was trying to take up as little space as possible.

My throat tightened.

She had been so tiny when she left. Barely big enough to fit in my arms, barely old enough to even know who I was. But I had known her. And I had loved her.

I still did. I loved her so fucking much it physically hurt whenever I thought about what happened to her.

I should've looked harder, I could've prevented this.

I pushed off the railing, heading back inside before I could think too much about what I was about to do. Before I could talk myself out of it.

I hesitated only a second before knocking lightly on her door.

Silence.

I almost turned around.

Then—

"...Yeah?"

Her voice was quiet. Hesitant.

I opened the door slowly, stepping inside. She was sitting up, her small hands curled around the blanket in her lap, wide eyes flicking toward me.

I knew that look. I hated that look.

Like she didn't know if she should be afraid.

Like she didn't know if she could trust me.

I kept my movements slow, careful, crossing the room and lowering myself onto the chair beside her bed. Close, but not too close.

She didn't say anything.

Neither did I.

For a while, we just sat there.

I had spent years searching for her, years imagining what I'd say when I finally found her. But now, with her in front of me, I didn't know where to start.

So I started with the truth.

I could barely breathe as I looked at her, sitting there so fragile, so small. Every time I tried to speak, my throat would close up, but I had to say it—she needed to hear it. She needed to know how much she meant to me, to all of us.

"Em," I began again, my voice barely above a whisper. I cleared my throat, trying to steady myself, but the weight of everything I'd kept inside for so long was crashing over me all at once. "I want you to understand something. All these years... not a single day went by without me thinking about you. Not a single night passed where I didn't wonder what you were doing, if you were okay, if you were safe."

I shook my head, forcing myself to look away for a moment as the thoughts hit me all over again. The guilt, the regret. It felt like a constant weight pressing down on me, suffocating me.

"When we were kids, I would think about you all the time. I didn't even know what you looked like, but I knew you were out there, somewhere. I used to lie awake at night, just imagining what you'd be like, how your laugh would sound, what you'd look like when you smiled. And every time I thought about you, I promised myself I'd protect you, that I'd take care of you. I never stopped thinking about you, Em."

I took a deep breath, my voice trembling as I continued, each word coming from a place deeper inside me, a place I rarely let anyone see.

"But I couldn't protect you, could I?" I whispered, the question hanging heavy in the air. "I couldn't stop it. I couldn't keep you safe, no matter how many times I promised myself I would. I... I couldn't even find you. I couldn't even reach you."

My hands clenched into fists, but I quickly relaxed them, afraid she'd see how much the thought of it still hurt. I couldn't hide it anymore.

"I don't know if you'll ever understand what it was like, living with that. Living with the knowledge that you were out there, somewhere, and I couldn't be there for you. I couldn't fix it. I couldn't help you. I was just... helpless."

I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, but I didn't want her to see me like this. I couldn't let her see me break, not when I was trying so hard to be strong for her. But the flood of emotions was too much. "I don't even know how to explain it, Em. It ate me alive, every single day. I wanted to scream, to break something, to tear apart the world until I found you. I wanted to make up for all that lost time. All the time I couldn't be there. It killed me."

I paused, swallowing hard, trying to fight back the lump in my throat.

"And then... that day. When I got the call. I can't even describe it to you. I don't even know how to put it into words." I closed my eyes, trying to picture the moment again. It felt like it had just happened, like the pain was still fresh. "I remember exactly where I was, standing in the hallway. I had just gotten back from a meeting, and the phone rang. I wasn't expecting it. I thought it was just another call I had to deal with. But when I heard the words—when I found out what had been happening to you—it felt like my whole world collapsed. Like everything I had ever known was ripped away from me."

I could feel the heat of the tears on my face now, but I didn't care. I wasn't hiding it anymore. I needed her to know. I needed her to understand how much I loved her, how much I needed her to be okay.

"I couldn't breathe, Em," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I swear to God, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could hear was the phone, and all I could think about was you. I wanted to scream, to fight, but I couldn't do anything. I didn't know how to help you. I didn't even know how to fix it."

I could feel my chest tightening again, the memory of that pain so fresh, so real, as if it had just happened. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself, but the weight of the emotions was too much. "I wanted to run to you. I wanted to get to you as fast as I could, to hold you, to make sure you were okay, but I couldn't. And all I could think about was how I had failed you. I had failed you in the worst way possible, Em. I wasn't there when you needed me. I wasn't there to protect you. And now I can't undo that."

I dropped my head into my hands, finally letting the tears fall freely, not caring anymore. I hadn't let myself cry in so long, not in front of anyone. But with her, with Emilia, I couldn't stop it. I just wanted her to know how much she meant to me. How much I loved her.

"I know I can't take away everything you've been through," I said, my voice barely audible. "But I swear to you, Em, I'll never leave you. I'll never stop fighting for you. I'll never stop loving you. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. And I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you never have to feel that kind of pain again."

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, trying to pull myself together, but the vulnerability I felt right now was overwhelming. "You don't ever have to go through this alone again. We'll get through it together. I'm going to make sure you feel safe, feel loved, every single day."

I reached out to touch her hand gently, my fingers brushing against hers. My heart ached as I looked into her eyes, hoping she could see the truth in my words, the depth of my feelings for her.

"I don't know how to fix the past, Em," I whispered, my voice breaking. "But I'll spend every single day trying to make up for it. I'll be here for you. You don't have to be scared anymore."

I let the silence settle between us, the words hanging in the air, raw and unfiltered. I had poured everything out, and I just hoped that somehow, in some small way, she could feel how much I loved her, how much she meant to me.

Emilia's POV

Luca's words hung in the air, pressing on my chest. He had poured out his heart, and I didn't know how to respond. I didn't know how to carry all of that weight. He had been so kind, so vulnerable with me, and I just... didn't feel like I could give him my pain. But as the silence stretched between us, I knew I owed it to him. I had to let him see me. I had to show him even a tiny piece of what had been locked away inside me for so long.

I felt my throat tighten, the words fighting their way out. I didn't want to speak them, didn't want to relive it, but I couldn't keep it inside anymore. Not after he had shown me his heart.

"I... I didn't think anyone was ever coming for me," I whispered, my voice so small, so broken. It felt like it wasn't even my voice, like it belonged to someone else. Someone who had been lost a long time ago.

The words tumbled out, and I couldn't stop them. "He'd lock me in the cellar," I said, my voice trembling with each syllable. "It was so dark. I couldn't see anything. It felt like the dark was alive... closing in on me, crushing me. I could barely breathe."

The air in the room felt thick, suffocating, and I could hear my own voice shaking as I spoke. "The silence was... worse than anything. It was so quiet. And I would scream, but no sound came out. I would scream for him to let me out, but it was always... always so useless. He never came. I just... waited. I waited, and it felt like the walls were getting closer."

I could barely breathe, the panic rising in my chest as the memories flooded back. I didn't want to relive this, not now, not with him sitting next to me, but the words kept spilling out, pushed forward by the crushing weight of them.

"It was so hard to remember what was real," I sobbed, my chest heaving with every broken breath. "I couldn't remember how long I'd been there. Days, weeks, months, I don't know. I lost track of time. I couldn't tell the difference anymore. I was just... stuck in that darkness. And I wanted out so badly, Luca. I just wanted out. But I knew... I knew no one was coming for me."

The tears fell faster now, and I couldn't stop them. I could feel the pain rushing through me again, like it was fresh, like I was back there in that dark, suffocating place. "I used to scream... I begged him to let me out, but after a while, I didn't even care. I didn't care if he came back or not. I just wanted the pain to stop."

My hands were trembling, my voice barely a whisper, and I didn't dare look at Luca. I was so scared, so ashamed of what I was saying, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. "The hunger was the worst. It was like a gnawing, constant feeling in my stomach, but the worst part was the silence. The loneliness. It felt like it was eating me from the inside out."

I felt like I was breaking apart, my chest tight with each sob. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stop crying. It felt like I was being swallowed whole by my own pain. And still, the words kept coming.

"I... I used to beg him to hurt me," I whispered, barely able to get the words out through the sobs. "I just wanted to feel something, anything. The hunger, the pain... it was better than the silence. It was better than feeling nothing at all."

My voice cracked as I said the words, and the tears came faster, harder. I couldn't breathe through them, couldn't stop shaking. It was like the memories were tearing me apart, and I couldn't make them stop.

I could feel Luca beside me, but I didn't know what he was thinking. I didn't know if he could understand how badly I was hurting, how broken I really was. But then, he spoke, and his voice was so gentle, so careful.

"Emilia..." His voice trembled too, and it made my heart ache. "Can I... can I hold you? Only if you want me to, sweetheart. I won't do anything you're not ready for. I just want you to know... I'm here."

I couldn't even answer at first. The idea of someone touching me, even just holding me, felt so foreign, so scary. But... I knew Luca wasn't like them. He wasn't like the people who had hurt me. He wasn't going to hurt me.

"I... I'm scared," I whispered, the words barely leaving my lips. "I don't know if I can do it."

Luca didn't push. He just waited, and I could feel the warmth of his presence beside me, steady and calm. I took a shaky breath, my whole body trembling, and somehow, I found myself nodding.

"I think... I think I can," I whispered, barely able to say it.

Slowly, cautiously, I felt Luca's arm slip around me. His touch was gentle, not demanding, not forcing me closer. He didn't rush me. He just let his arm settle there, a simple act of comfort. It felt like nothing I had ever known before, and I didn't know how to handle it, but I let myself lean into him just a little. I wanted to feel safe, just for a moment. I wanted to believe that I could.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby," Luca whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll always be here. You're not alone. I promise."

I could barely hear his words through the pounding of my heart, but I let them sink in. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that I wasn't alone anymore. I didn't want to be alone. Not anymore.

I closed my eyes, leaning into Luca's chest, feeling the warmth of his body as he gently held me. I didn't know how to stop crying, but I didn't have to. I didn't have to hide it anymore. I let it all out, all of the pain, all of the fear, everything I had been holding in for so long. And as I cried, I felt Luca's arms tighten around me, just enough to let me know that he was there.

"I'm here, love." Luca whispered again, his voice soft and soothing. "I won't let go. You're safe with me, I promise, sweetheart."

I let myself believe him. For the first time, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I was safe. And in his arms, I felt a piece of myself that had been missing for so long begin to heal, even if just a little.

We stayed like that for a while, and slowly, my sobs started to quiet. I didn't know how long we sat there, but I didn't care. I wasn't alone anymore. I wasn't broken anymore. And for the first time, I felt like I could breathe.

And for the first time in years, I fell asleep without any nightmares.