The Family That Wanted Me Dead, Now Wants Me Back

After I ended the call, I stood still for a moment, forcing my breathing to slow while my heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to escape.

I wasn’t going to cry.

Not again.

I’d spent eleven years shedding tears over that house, those boys, and the man who treated me like a spare part. I’d cried enough to last a lifetime. This time, I swore I’d straighten my spine, lift my chin, and find Magnus—face-to-face—and tell him I was done.

Music drifted down the corridor, loud and cruelly cheerful. The twins’ birthday banquet had already begun. The entire estate sounded like it was celebrating something worth cheering for.

I opened the wardrobe and grabbed the first dress I saw. Soft pink. Simple. Too gentle for a place built on violence and power. I slipped it on, smoothed the fabric with shaking hands, and stepped out.

The moment I entered the grand hall, something inside me cracked.

Under the crystal chandeliers—right in the heart of the Caldwin estate where every deal, threat, and execution order had been spoken—Magnus was on one knee.

Not for me.

Never for me.

In his hand was a diamond ring that could buy half the city. The kind a Don gave when he wanted the world to know who stood beside him.

And standing in front of him was Elara.

The nanny.

The woman my sons clung to like she was their savior.

Magnus looked up at her like she was precious.

“Will you take my name,” he asked softly, “and become my wife?”

Elara gasped, hand flying to her mouth. She laughed through tears, like this was a fairytale instead of a mafia engagement staged before half the underworld.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I will.”

The hall erupted. Men clapped. Women squealed. Glasses were raised. Someone whistled. Someone began chanting Magnus’ name like he’d just won a war.

And I stood there, invisible. A ghost no one bothered to acknowledge.

Then the twins came running.

Ian and Vale crashed into Elara, wrapping their arms around her waist.

“Finally!” Ian shouted. “Elara’s gonna be our real mom now!”

Vale didn’t hesitate. He pointed straight at me.

“Thank God it’s not her. Anything’s better than that snake, Lyra.”

A laugh slipped out of me—soft, broken. Not because it was funny. Because if I didn’t laugh, I’d scream.

I started clapping. Slow. Deliberate. The sound cut through the noise, turning heads.

“Congratulations,” I said calmly.

Magnus stiffened when he saw me. His eyes widened.

“Lyra… I—”

“Don’t,” I cut in. “I’m not here to ruin your celebration. I was passing through. Since you’re all gathered, I’ll make it quick.”

I stepped forward.

“I’m leaving.”

Silence fell over the hall.

Then Magnus’ face hardened.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped.

Right on cue, Elara began to cry.

“Oh my God,” she sobbed. “Lyra, I’m so sorry. Please don’t go because of me. I never wanted this to hurt you.”

I stared at her. She couldn’t have sounded more fake if she tried.

Magnus grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away. I shoved him back hard enough that he stumbled.

“Don’t put your filthy hands on me,” I hissed.

His jaw clenched. “We’re talking somewhere private.”

Before he could move, Ian and Vale rushed me. Small fists. Hard hits. Ten-year-old rage sharpened into weapons.

“You evil woman!” Ian screamed, punching my side. “You made our mom cry!”

Vale hit me too—right where my arm still burned from earlier.

Elara dabbed at her tears, pretending to be weak.

“Stop, boys. I’m fine.”

But she didn’t stop them.

She never did.

Then Vale suddenly bolted from the hall. I barely had time to register it before he returned, holding a small jar.

The second I saw it, my blood turned to ice.

“No!” I screamed, lunging forward.

Vale laughed—and dropped it.

The jar shattered against the marble floor with a crack like a gunshot. Ash scattered across the tiles. Soft. Grey. Sacred.

My mother.

Gone. Spilled under strangers’ feet like dirt.

For a second, my mind refused to process it. Then my world tilted.

“What did you do?!” I screamed.

Ian stepped closer, eyes cold. “If you ever hurt our new mom again, you’ll regret it.”

Whispers spread through the crowd.

“That’s the Don’s former woman.”

“The one who refused to leave.”

“So shameless.”

“She’s ruining the engagement.”

“And Elara’s still defending her… what a saint.”

“What a wicked woman.”

My hands clenched until my nails bit into my skin.

“Say whatever you want!” I shouted. “Those kids—”

“That’s enough!” Magnus roared.

I saw his hand lift. I refused to let it land.

I caught his wrist and slapped him—once, then again. The sound cracked through the hall.

“Go to hell, Magnus.”

I turned and walked out.

I didn’t run. Tears blurred my vision, but I kept moving because I knew the second I stopped, I’d collapse.

When I reached my room, the emptiness hit me like a fist.

Ten years. Ten years of waiting for those boys to soften. Ten years of hoping they’d love me.

I dragged out my suitcase and began packing.

The door slammed open. Magnus stormed in.

“What madness has possessed you?”

I kept packing.

He grabbed the suitcase and flung it across the room. Clothes scattered everywhere.

“Now you’re listening.”

“Keep it,” I said bitterly. “Everything here is poisoned.”

“Enough!” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me.

“Touch me again and I’ll break your fingers.”

He froze, staring at me. “What happened to you?”

“You liked me better silent,” I said. “Now that I’m done swallowing it, I’m the problem?”

“Calm down,” he said. “Let me explain.”

“Go on.”

“Elara is sick,” he said. “Cancer. She doesn’t have long. The boys begged me to make her their mother so she can pass peacefully.”

I laughed—cold and sharp.

“Two years, right? And after that you’ll finally marry me?”

“Yes,” he said quickly.

“So what do you want from me?”

He smiled, kissing my cheek. “Stay. Take care of the twins while I take Elara overseas for treatment.”

I nodded. I smiled.

“Alright.”

Relief washed over his face as he left.

The moment the door closed, my smile vanished.

Behind me, someone clapped.

Slow. Mocking.

Elara leaned against the doorway.

“You really think you’re stupid, Lyra,” she said sweetly. “Otherwise, you’d already know.”

She stepped closer, placing a hand on her stomach.

“I’ve been sleeping with Magnus for three years,” she whispered.

“And I’m pregnant with his baby.”