Layla's POV
The night crept on, music pulsing softly in the background as laughter echoed around the room. Eventually, Marco and I exchanged a few words—not much, but enough to pique my curiosity. There was something about him… something familiar. But just when the conversation felt like it might go somewhere, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, his expression shifting, then he left—no explanation, not even a goodbye.
Weird.
I shrugged it off. Maybe it was work. Or something personal. Either way, it wasn't my business… yet.
Instead, I turned back to my girls—Lexi, Olivia, and Aurora. God, they were wild. In just three years, they'd become my ride-or-die. The kind of bond that felt like it had existed for decades, not a few blurry seasons of partying, crying over heartbreaks, and dancing under the stars. Being with them always reminded me of them—my old crew, my family… back when "fun" included things like combat..fights, disguises, and high-stakes missions for our parents.
Yeah, that kind of "fun."
It was around 2 a.m. when we finally called it a night. I was definitely drunk—like, "how did I even find my keys?" level drunk but somehow made it home. I barely managed to strip out of my top and jeans, wash up, hug my dogs, and crawl into bed before sleep consumed me.
Out. Like a light.
Then, 6 a.m. happened.
My phone buzzed, pulling me out of the warm darkness of sleep. Groaning, I reached for it without even opening my eyes. Unknown number. I should've ignored it.
I didn't.
"Hello?" I mumbled, still half-asleep.
A voice whispered through the line, sending a chill straight down my spine.
"Layla… come back. We need to talk."
I froze. My heart skipped. That voice… I hadn't heard it in years.
"Dad?" I whispered back, suddenly wide awake. "What the hell? What's going on? It's been three years—I told you, I'm done with that life."
There was a pause. Then his voice cracked through the speaker.
"Please, darling. We need you. I can't find your mother… and your sisters and brother are scared—"
Click ding...line dead.
The call dropped before I could even react. My hands were trembling. I tried calling him back. Once. Twice. Ten times. I dialed my mom's number. My siblings Nothing.
No one was answering.
Panic set in. I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.
My heart might've tried to run from that life, but my blood still belonged to them.
Within minutes, I was on the phone with Luna, my assistant. "Get the jet ready. I leave for Valencia in five hours."
I stared around my apartment, breath catching. I was going back. Back to the one place I swore I'd never return. Back to the secrets. The lies. The darkness I buried three years ago.
How was I supposed to face Summer, Sofia, Aster, Ace, and Valerie? I vanished without a single goodbye, stopped answering their calls, completely cut them off. And now I was crawling back, tail tucked between my legs.
But I had no choice.
Where was Mom? Why couldn't Dad find her? What the hell was going on?
I started packing like a machine—documents, clothes, weapons. Two suitcases, stuffed and zipped. I called my company's head manager, instructed him to pass everything on to Luna until further notice.
I was starving but also mentally fried, so I ordered McDonald's—comfort food therapy. The only thing grounding me.
I called Olivia, told her I was leaving the States for now, and hung up before she could ask questions. I didn't owe her an explanation. Not yet. Not when the truth could put her in danger.
Because she doesn't know who I really am.
None of my girls do.
This life? This world of cold stares, loaded guns, and family secrets? It's not the one they know.
It's the one I buried.
Luna called again—jet was ready.
I grabbed my bags, checked my Glock—loaded, safety on and took one last glance around my apartment. No turning back now.
The drive to the private hangar felt like a blur. My mind was a battlefield of memories, unanswered questions, and suppressed fears. As the car rolled to a stop, the floodlights of the runway cast a cold glow on everything ahead of me.
Luna stood near the jet, her silhouette framed against the sleek silver bird that would carry me back to the life I left behind.
She spotted me, walking over briskly in her signature blazer and heels—professional as ever, but I saw the concern in her eyes. The kind that only someone who truly knows you can't hide.
"Everything's ready," she said softly.
I didn't trust my voice yet, so I just nodded and reached into my bag, pulling out a slim black folder—sealed, stamped, and thick with responsibilities. I placed it in her hands carefully, like it weighed more than just paper.
"Follow everything in here to the letter," I said, voice low. "If something goes wrong, you'll know what to do."
Luna's brows furrowed slightly. "Layla… are you sure about this?"
No. Not even a little.
But I nodded anyway.
I forced a tight smile, the kind that didn't reach my eyes. "Just keep things running. And if I don't check in by the end of the week—burn everything in that folder, just for safety…okay."
She blinked, her lips parting, but I turned before she could say anything else.
Because I couldn't afford any more goodbyes.
Not when I was already seconds away from falling apart.
"I'll be off the grid for a while. Take care of everything here."
She nodded, concern flickering in her eyes. "Be safe, Layla."
Boarding the jet, I finally let myself exhale. The pilot greeted me, said we'd be airborne in minutes. I was running on four hours of broken sleep and adrenaline. The flight to Spain would take at least 14 hours.
I sank into the seat. A flight attendant offered me wine. I took it without hesitation.
As the plane lifted into the sky, I stared out at the dark clouds, my thoughts spiraling back to the past. All the chaos. All the memories. The laughter. The blood. The betrayals. The friendship.
And just before I drifted off, one thought echoed in my head:
I'm going home….🇪🇸
......