KISS'S POV — SWITZERLAND
"Again."
My mother's voice cut through the cold morning air like a blade.
I tightened my fingers around the sword, ignoring the tremor running through my arms. Sweat dripped from my temple, sliding down my neck, soaking into the fitted black training outfit clinging to my body.
Again.
I lunged.
Steel clashed against steel.
The impact vibrated up my arms, rattling my bones. My breath came out sharp, controlled—trained.
She blocked effortlessly.
"You're hesitating," she said calmly, circling me.
I swallowed.
"I'm not."
"You are."
I attacked again—faster this time. Harder. My movements were no longer clumsy or desperate. They were calculated. Deadly.
She parried, stepped aside, and struck my wrist sharply.
Pain exploded.
I didn't cry out.
I welcomed it.
Pain meant I was alive.
Pain meant I remembered.
I remembered the hospital.
The smell of antiseptic.
The sound of machines.
The emptiness in my arms.
I roared and swung with everything I had.
This time—
She stepped back.
The courtyard fell silent.
Even the guards watching us stiffened.
My chest rose and fell rapidly as I stood there, sword lowered, eyes blazing.
My mother studied me for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
"You're no longer fighting like a victim," she said. "You're fighting like a ruler."
I said nothing.
Because rulers didn't speak of the nights they cried into pillows soaked with tears.
Rulers didn't admit they woke up reaching for babies that weren't there.
Rulers swallowed grief and turned it into fire.
Later, when the sun dipped low and the palace bathed in gold, I sat alone on the balcony, wrapped in silk, staring at the mountains beyond.
My mother joined me quietly.
"You're growing colder," she said gently.
I didn't look at her.
"I have to," I replied. "Warmth almost killed my children."
Silence stretched between us.
Then she handed me a file.
"We found her," she said softly.
I took it slowly, my fingers steady despite the storm roaring inside me.
I opened it.
Ashley.
Her picture stared back at me—smiling, confident, unaware of what was coming.
My lips curved into something that wasn't a smile.
"So," I murmured, voice eerily calm. "It was you."
My mother watched my face carefully.
"What do you want to do?"
I closed the file and stood.
"I want her to live," I said quietly.
"Long enough to understand fear."
ADRIAN'S POV — CITY V
The boardroom was silent.
Every executive avoided my gaze.
I stood at the head of the table, hands braced against the polished wood, eyes dark and hollow.
"Meeting dismissed," I said flatly.
No one argued.
They knew better.
Oscar followed me out, worry etched deep into his face.
"You can't keep going like this," he said gently. "You're running on fumes."
I stopped walking.
Turned to him slowly.
"She's gone," I said. "Tell me what part of this world deserves my energy."
He had no answer.
At home, the mansion was quiet—too quiet.
Until—
A soft cry.
I moved instantly, pushing open the nursery door.
There they were.
My reason for breathing.
My daughter's tiny fists waved in the air as she cried, her face scrunched up just like—
Just like her.
I picked her up, holding her against my chest.
"It's okay," I whispered. "Daddy's here."
But my voice cracked.
Because I wasn't the one she wanted.
My son stirred, eyes fluttering open.
I smiled faintly.
"There's my little man."
Augustina appeared at the door, Harmony asleep in her arms.
"You haven't slept," she said quietly.
"I sleep when they sleep," I replied.
She stepped closer.
"They need you strong," she said. "And so does she—wherever she is."
My jaw clenched.
"I failed her."
"No," Augustina said firmly. "You're still standing. That's not failure."
That night, after the house settled, I sat in the nursery alone, reading softly.
"This is about a queen," I murmured. "She was brave. Fierce. Beautiful."
My daughter cooed in her sleep.
"She'd love you," I whispered. "Both of you."
I closed the book and rested my forehead against the crib.
"Come back," I whispered into the darkness.
"Please."
SWITZERLAND — ONE YEAR LATER
Ashley screamed again.
The gift lay on her bed.
Another one.
A music box.
When she opened it, a soft lullaby played.
Inside was a note.
Do you remember the hospital?
I do.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered with shaking hands.
"Hello?"
My voice came through calm and deadly.
"You took something from me," I said softly.
"Now I'm taking your sleep."
She sobbed.
"Please—who is this?"
I smiled.
"Your consequence."
I ended the call.
"Slowly," I told my men. "Break her."
ADRIAN'S POV — NIGHT
I tucked the twins in gently.
My daughter grabbed my finger.
"Princess," I whispered, brushing her hair back. "You look like your mom."
My son shifted.
"And you," I murmured, "you'll protect her."
I sat there long after they slept.
Because love didn't fade.
It waited.
And somewhere deep in my chest, I knew—
She was coming back.
Not as the girl I lost.
But as the woman forged by everything she survived.