Edward's words lingered in my mind long after we stepped out of his study. "It won't be paper tests you'll face next."
I understood his warning all too well. The Donovans lived not in the sterile confines of ledgers or corporate meetings, but in a realm of shadows, whispered secrets, and lurking dangers that could explode into the open at any moment. And here I was, diving into this chaotic world by choice.
Tristan walked beside me, his stride tense, fists clenched as if he were ready to confront his father once more. I reached out, gently touching his arm to halt him in the hallway.
"Please, stop. Edward is your father, Tristan," I murmured, careful not to provoke the storm brewing in his eyes.
He turned to me, anger burning brightly. "But he has no right to dictate,"
"He does have that right," I interjected, my voice stronger than I felt inside. "This isn't just about your family anymore; it's about me too. If I want to stand tall for you, for us, then I can't remain a bystander any longer. I need to show that I deserve to be here."
The silence between us cracked like fragile glass. Tristan's jaw tightened, his emotions a tumultuous mix of pride and frustration. But this time, I refused to shrink away.
I straightened my shoulders, matching the steadiness of my words with fierce determination. "I'm not afraid, and I don't need you to protect me from your father or this life. I'll fight for my place here."
His gaze softened, a paradoxical warmth cutting through the storm still raging in his eyes. He reached for me, his fingers brushing against mine, not as a shield, but with a gentler acknowledgment of my resolve.
That night, as I lay awake in the Donovan guestroom, the idea of running away haunted me. Just pack my bag, retreat to the safe familiarity of my mom's house, and convince myself that love wasn't worth this chaos.
But every time I closed my eyes, his face invaded my thoughts. The boy I had grown up alongside, the man shaped by shadows, the one who looked at me as if I were still something pure in a darkening world. I realized then that I couldn't leave, not because I was trapped, but because I chose to stay, my heart fully committed to him.
The danger of this life terrified me, the weight of the unknown pressing heavily against my chest. But for the first time since my father's death, I refused to let fear dictate my choices.
In the stillness, I whispered into the dark, a solemn vow to myself. "I'm not running away this time."