3rd Person Pov
Weeks passed at the Spellman mansion, establishing new rhythms and careful boundaries. Amiriah had gradually allowed the family to get a little closer to —though she continued to guard her greatest secret, spending most of her time in her old bedroom where Lani remained hidden from the family's knowledge.
On this particular morning, Xavier called a family meeting in his study. Seated around the massive mahogany desk were Amara, Hayden, Zuri, Zari, and Kario. Lenna had excused herself, claiming research that couldn't wait, while Amiriah had been summoned separately.
When she arrived, Amiriah's posture was defensive, her darkness swirling subtly at her fingertips—a habit she'd developed when anxious.
"We're hosting an important business meeting here at the mansion this afternoon," Xavier informed her, his tone carefully neutral. "Several major corporate partners will be attending to sign new contracts. It would be... beneficial if you could join us."
Amiriah's response was immediate. "No," she said firmly. "I won't be attending any meetings."
Xavier sighed, exchanging a glance with Amara. They had anticipated this reaction but had felt obligated to ask.
"That's perfectly fine, dear," Amara assured her. "No one expects you to be ready for that level of social interaction yet."
"Just thought I should inform you there will be additional security and guests in the mansion today," Xavier added. "They'll be confined to the west wing meeting rooms and formal dining area."
Amiriah nodded curtly. "I'll stay in my room. No one will even know I'm here."
With that, she turned and left, returning to her sanctuary where Lani waited, playing quietly with toys.After Amiriah's departure, the family exchanged knowing looks.
"She's not ready," Hayden said unnecessarily. "And we shouldn't push her."
Zuri nodded. "After what she endured at GreyStone, large gatherings of strangers would be traumatic."
"And she has other concerns," Zari added cryptically, earning a sharp glance from Xavier.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
The twins exchanged one of their silent communications before Zari replied carefully, "Only that she's focused on healing. On feeling safe again."
Kario looked up from the security tablet he'd been reviewing. "Speaking of safety, I've triple-checked all protocols for today's meeting. Facial recognition, magical signature scanning, the works. No one gets past the west wing without our knowledge."
"Good," Xavier nodded. "The Monroe representatives will be arriving at two. Let's make sure everything is prepared."
Upstairs in her private suite, Lenna sat surrounded by holographic displays showing encrypted files and fragmented data. For weeks, she had been piecing together information about GreyStone Psychiatric Hospital, about Project K, about what had really happened to her twin sister.
Most concerning were the connections she'd begun to uncover—ties between GreyStone and several powerful families in S City, including the Blackwoods and, most surprisingly, the Monroes. The puzzle was complex, pieces missing or deliberately obscured, but she was getting closer to understanding what had truly happened to Amiriah during those lost years.
And the more she discovered, the more her rage grew—cold, calculated, and increasingly focused on specific targets.
A notification flashed on one of her screens—the guest list for today's meeting. Scanning it absently, she froze when a particular name caught her attention: Kaison Monroe, CEO, Monroe Enterprises.
"That's unusual," she murmured. Kaison Monroe rarely attended business meetings personally, preferring to send representatives. His sudden interest in a standard contract signing with the Spellman Group warranted investigation.
She quickly pulled up everything her extensive databases contained on Monroe—financial records, business holdings, personal history. On the surface, he appeared to be merely another wealthy S City elite—handsome, powerful, ruthlessly effective in business. But Lenna knew better than most that surfaces often concealed deadly depths.
A particular file caught her attention—a property record for a mansion in Crystal City, purchased three years ago. The timing aligned too perfectly with Amiriah's disappearance from the hospital for almost a year to be coincidence.
Lenna's eyes narrowed as connections began forming in her mind. She needed to warn her family, to prevent this meeting, but she was missing crucial pieces. She needed more time.
At precisely two o'clock, the first of the business partners began arriving at the Spellman mansion. Security was discreet but thorough, scanning each visitor for weapons and running magical signature checks to ensure no one was using illusion spells to disguise their identity.
The Spellman family greeted their guests with practiced charm—Xavier commanding, Amara gracious, the siblings playing their respective roles to perfection. The meeting proceeded smoothly, with legal teams reviewing final contract terms as refreshments were served.
At two-thirty, a subtle shift in the room's energy announced the arrival of the final guest. Heads turned as Kaison Monroe entered, tall and imposing in an impeccably tailored suit, his presence commanding instant attention.
"Mr. Monroe," Xavier said, surprise evident despite his attempt to conceal it. "We were expecting your legal team, not you personally."
Kaison smiled, the expression not quite reaching his eyes, which were an unusual shade of blue that seemed to flicker with inner light. "Some matters warrant personal attention, Mr. Spellman. This partnership is one of them."
As introductions continued around the room, Kaison's gaze swept the gathered family members with calculated casualness. Seeking. Searching. When Amiriah failed to materialize among them, a momentary tightening of his jaw was the only indication of disappointment.
"Shall we proceed?" Xavier gestured toward the conference table, where documents awaited signatures.
The meeting continued with professional efficiency, contracts discussed and amendments proposed. Kaison participated fully, his business acumen evident in his precise questions and strategic concessions. Yet throughout, his awareness remained split—part of him engaged in negotiations while another part mapped exits, noted security positions, and cataloged the mansion's layout.
After an hour of negotiations, when coffee was served and the conversation turned more casual, Kaison rose smoothly from his seat.
"If you'll excuse me for a moment," he said, "I need to use the restroom."
"Of course," Amara replied. "Kario, would you show Mr. Monroe the way?"
Kaison waved off the offer with a disarming smile. "No need to disturb your son's conversation. Just point me in the right direction."
"Down the hall to the left," Hayden provided. "You can't miss it."
With a nod of thanks, Kaison exited the meeting room, his casual stride betraying nothing of his true intent. Once in the hallway, he paused, listening to the continued conversation behind him, ensuring no one had followed. Then, rather than turning left as directed, he moved silently toward the main staircase.
The mansion's west wing might be heavily monitored, but Kaison had not built his empire without learning how to evade detection. A subtle pulse of his esoteric flame—controlled, precise—temporarily disabled the nearest security cameras, giving him just enough time to slip upstairs unnoticed.
The upper level of the mansion branched into several corridors. Instinct and the intelligence his team had gathered suggested Amiriah would be in the east wing, likely in her childhood bedroom. Keeping to the shadows, Kaison moved with silent efficiency, his senses alert for any sign of her presence.
In her bedroom, Amiriah had spent the afternoon with Lani, reading stories and playing games, carefully keeping her daughter entertained. When Lani eventually drifted off for an afternoon nap, Amiriah realized they had run out of the juice and snacks her daughter preferred.
"I'll just be gone a minute," she whispered to the sleeping child, brushing dark curls from her forehead. "Stay asleep, treasure."
Ensuring the darkness wolves were positioned to guard the room, Amiriah slipped into the hallway, intending to make a quick trip to the kitchen while the business meeting kept everyone occupied in the west wing.
She had just pulled the door closed behind her when strong hands caught her by the waist from behind. Panic flared instantly—no one touched her without permission, not even her family. Her darkness responded to her alarm, beginning to coalesce around her fingertips, ready to strike.
But then... something strange happened. Her body didn't recoil in terror as it normally would at an unexpected touch. Instead, a bizarre sense of familiarity washed over her, a muscle memory of comfort that made no rational sense.
Before she could process this contradictory reaction, she was turned gently but firmly to face her captor. The man before her was tall, elegantly dressed, with striking features and eyes that seemed to burn with an inner blue flame. A stranger, yet something about him tugged at the edges of her broken memory.
His hands remained on her waist, warm and sure. More shocking than his touch was her continued acceptance of it—as if her body remembered something her mind had forgotten.
"I finally found you, Mira," he said, his deep voice stirring something deep within her. "Or should I call you Amiriah?" His eyes searched hers intently, hungrily. "You don't know how long I've been searching for you, how much I've missed you."
Confusion clouded her features. Mira? Only her team called her that, a nickname from her time away from the family. How did this stranger know it? And why was he looking at her with such intimate familiarity?
Before she could voice any of these questions, he leaned down and kissed her—not forcefully, but with the confidence of a man who had done so many times before. His lips pressed against hers with practiced ease, one hand rising to cup her cheek with a tenderness that contradicted the urgency of his kiss.
For one bewildering moment, her body responded instinctively, a flicker of memory—or perhaps desire—making her lips soften against his. Then reality crashed back, and she jerked away, darkness erupting around her in protective spikes.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous, though she remained conscious of Lani sleeping just behind the door. "How do you know that name?"
The man's expression shifted from triumph to confusion, then to a dawning realization that sent ice through his gaze. "You don't remember me," he said flatly. Not a question, but a painful statement of fact.
Amiriah took another step back, her darkness swirling protectively. "I've never seen you before in my life," she hissed, though some treacherous part of her wondered if that was entirely true. "What are you doing in my home?"
"Your home," he repeated, a bitter smile touching his lips. "For almost a year, my home was your home. My bed was your sanctuary. My name was on your lips when—"
"Stop," she commanded, the shadows around her darkening ominously. "I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not interested."
He studied her with intense scrutiny, as if trying to solve a complex puzzle. "You truly don't remember," he murmured, more to himself than to her. Then, with deliberate calm: "My name is Kaison Monroe. We met three years ago in Crystal City when I found you unconscious on the road near my estate."
The name meant nothing to her, yet something about Crystal City sent an uncomfortable ripple through her consciousness—a blank space in her timeline that didn't make sense. She had never been to Crystal City; she had been in Greystone Hospital until the fire. Hadn't she?
"You lived with me for over a year," he continued, his voice softening. "You called yourself Mira. You never told me your real name or where you came from. But you shared my home, my life..." he paused, eyes burning into hers, "and eventually, my bed."
Amiriah's head began to pound, fractured memories trying to surface but unable to break through whatever barrier her mind had created. "You're lying," she said, but without conviction. "I would remember something like that."
"Would you?" Kaison challenged gently. "You who didnt let others touch you or even get close to you without getting sick?"
She flinched at the mention of the of these, at his knowledge of her past. "How do you know about that?"
"I've been searching for you since you disappeared from my home," he said simply. "I know more about you than you might believe."
"You need to leave," she said firmly "Now. Before I kill you.",
Kaison noted her protective stance "What are you hiding, Amiriah? "
Kaison's posture shifted subtly, readying for conflict while maintaining an outward appearance of calm.While looking at her panic face.
For a tense moment, Kaison seemed to consider his options, his gaze never leaving Amiriah's face. Then, with deliberate calm, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a business card, holding it out to her.
"When you want answers about the missing pieces of your past—about us—call me," he said. When she made no move to take it, he placed it on a nearby console table. "And when you're ready to talk about what happened."
His gaze flicked meaningfully to her face. "I keep my promises, Mira. Always. Remember that."
With that cryptic parting, he inclined his head slightly to both women and walked away, his stride unhurried, confident. As he disappeared down the corridor, Amiriah sagged against the wall, her legs suddenly unsteady.
She reached for the card he had left behind, staring at it as if it might contain answers to the questions now swirling through her mind. Turning back toward her room, a terrible thought struck her—one that connected this man's claims about their relationship.
"Who is he?" she asked Lenna, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why does he know things about me ?"
The possibility sent ice through her veins, making her hand tremble as she reached for the doorknob. Whatever the truth, one thing was certain—the carefully constructed sanctuary she had built for herself and Lani was no longer secure. The past she had been running from had finally caught up with her.
And from the determined look in that mans eyes, he had no intention of letting her slip away.