Adrian's first instinct was to run.
The moment the tall man said that name again—
Adrian De Luca.
Something inside his chest twisted painfully.
His heart started pounding so loudly he could barely hear anything else.
The hallway suddenly felt too small.
Too dark.
Too dangerous.
His bare feet slowly stepped backward.
"I… I think you have the wrong person," he repeated quietly.
The two men standing in the living room didn't move.
Rain dripped from their coats onto the dirty floor.
They didn't look like the people Adrian usually saw in this neighborhood.
Their clothes were expensive.
Their posture straight.
Their eyes sharp.
But the way they were looking at him…
Was strange.
Like they had just found something they had been searching for forever.
The taller one—the one who had grabbed his foster father—slowly loosened his grip.
The man on the wall struggled.
"W-What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he shouted.
But the man holding him didn't even look at him.
His eyes were locked on Adrian.
"…Adrian," he said again.
Adrian's stomach tightened.
That name.
Why did it sound so familiar?
"I told you," Adrian whispered nervously. "That's not my name."
The man in front of him took a slow step forward.
Adrian instantly stepped back.
The movement made the man stop immediately.
Something flashed across his face.
Pain.
Marco noticed it instantly.
The boy was scared.
Not just nervous.
Terrified.
The way he kept backing away…
The way his shoulders were tense…
The way his eyes kept moving between the two men like trapped prey.
Marco had seen that look before.
Just not on a child.
He spoke carefully.
"We're not here to hurt you."
Adrian didn't answer.
Because people who said that usually did.
Behind Marco, Dante's grip on the foster father tightened again.
"Talk," Dante growled.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" the man shouted.
"Who is this kid?"
Dante's eyes turned dark.
"You really want to ask that question?"
The man froze.
For the first time, fear appeared in his eyes.
Marco glanced toward Adrian again.
The boy looked thin.
Too thin.
His arms were covered with faint bruises.
A small cut was visible on his finger.
His oversized shirt hung loosely from his shoulders.
Marco's jaw slowly clenched.
Something cold began spreading through his chest.
He pointed gently toward the boy.
"How long has he lived here?"
The man hesitated.
Dante slammed him against the wall again.
"How long?"
"T-ten years!" the man blurted out.
The room fell silent.
Marco felt the words hit him like a punch.
Ten years.
Adrian had been missing for eleven.
Dante's voice turned dangerously quiet.
"Where did you get him?"
The man's eyes darted nervously.
"I— I found him!"
Dante's fist slammed into the wall beside the man's head.
"Wrong answer."
Adrian flinched.
The loud sound made him shrink against the hallway wall.
Marco noticed immediately.
"Dante."
His voice was calm.
But it carried a warning.
Dante took a slow breath.
Then he shoved the man aside.
The foster father stumbled but didn't fall.
He glared at them both.
"You think you can just break into my house and take my kid?"
Adrian's heart skipped.
Kid?
The woman suddenly appeared from the kitchen.
"What's all this noise—"
She froze the moment she saw the strangers.
"What is going on?"
Marco turned toward her.
His voice remained polite.
"Ma'am, we're here about the boy."
Her expression hardened immediately.
"What about him?"
Dante stepped forward again.
"He doesn't belong to you."
The woman laughed sharply.
"Oh really?"
She crossed her arms.
"That boy was abandoned. We took him in."
Adrian lowered his head.
The words were familiar.
He had heard them many times before.
"You should be grateful we kept you," she had told him once.
"No one else wanted you."
Marco looked at Adrian again.
The boy wasn't looking at anyone.
His gaze was fixed on the floor.
Like he wanted to disappear.
Marco's chest tightened.
"You told him he was abandoned?" he asked quietly.
The woman shrugged.
"Because he was."
Dante's patience snapped.
"Enough."
He pulled his phone from his pocket.
A picture appeared on the screen.
A photo from eleven years ago.
Two identical five-year-old boys stood in a large garden.
They were laughing.
Holding toy swords.
One of them had slightly messy hair.
The other had his arm around his brother's shoulder.
Dante walked toward Adrian slowly.
Adrian immediately stiffened.
"Look," Dante said softly.
He held the phone out.
Adrian hesitated.
But his eyes slowly moved to the screen.
The moment he saw the photo…
His breath stopped.
The boy in the picture…
Looked exactly like him.
And beside him…
Was someone else who looked the same.
Two identical faces.
Two smiling children.
For a moment…
Something inside Adrian's mind stirred.
A garden.
Warm sunlight.
Running footsteps.
Laughter.
"…Adrian!"
A voice calling his name.
Adrian suddenly grabbed his head.
A sharp pain shot through his skull.
"Ah—!"
The phone slipped from Dante's hand.
Marco immediately stepped forward.
"Hey—"
Adrian stumbled backward.
His breathing became uneven.
"I—I don't know that," he whispered desperately.
"I don't remember that!"
His heart was racing.
Images flickered in his mind.
Too fast.
Too confusing.
A big house.
Voices.
Someone hugging him.
Then darkness.
Adrian shook his head violently.
"No… no…"
The woman scoffed.
"See? Told you. That's not him."
But Marco wasn't looking at her.
His eyes were fixed on Adrian.
The boy's reaction…
Wasn't confusion.
It was fear.
Fear of remembering.
Marco spoke gently.
"You don't have to remember right now."
Adrian looked up slowly.
Marco continued.
"But you deserve to know the truth."
Dante picked up his phone again.
His voice was steady.
"You weren't abandoned."
The words hit Adrian like thunder.
"You were kidnapped."
The room went silent.
Adrian's mind froze.
Kidnapped?
"That's ridiculous!" the foster father snapped.
Dante ignored him.
"You belong to the De Luca family."
Adrian stared at him blankly.
"That's… not possible."
Marco took another step forward.
"You have seven brothers."
Adrian's eyes widened slightly.
"…Seven?"
"And a twin."
Adrian's breathing stopped.
Twin.
The word echoed strangely inside his chest.
Marco's voice softened.
"He's been waiting for you."
Something inside Adrian cracked.
Waiting?
For him?
That didn't make sense.
No one had ever waited for him before.
But before he could respond—
The foster father suddenly lunged forward.
"You're not taking him anywhere!"
He grabbed Adrian's arm violently.
Adrian cried out.
"Let go!"
Dante moved faster than anyone expected.
The next second—
The man was on the floor.
Dante stood over him.
His voice was ice.
"Touch him again…"
"…and you lose the arm."
The room fell silent again.
Adrian stared at the scene in shock.
No one had ever defended him before.
Not like that.
Not ever.
Marco slowly walked toward him.
This time…
Adrian didn't move.
Marco stopped a few feet away.
Then he carefully removed his coat.
He gently placed it around Adrian's shoulders.
The warmth surprised him.
"Come with us," Marco said quietly.
Adrian looked up at him.
Confusion filled his eyes.
"…Why?"
Marco's answer came without hesitation.
"Because you're family."
The word hit Adrian harder than anything else that night.
Family.
He had never truly had one.
At least…
Not that he remembered.
Adrian looked toward the door.
Rain was still pouring outside.
Then he looked back at the house.
At the two people who had raised him.
They weren't looking at him.
They were staring at the strangers with hatred.
For the first time…
Adrian wondered something.
What if they were lying?
What if…
Everything he believed about his life…
Was wrong?
Marco gently held out his hand.
"Adrian."
The name echoed in the quiet house.
The boy stared at the hand in front of him.
And after a long moment…
His fingers slowly began to move.
But before he could reach it—
The front door suddenly burst open.
Several armed men rushed inside.
And the leader of the group spoke a single sentence that froze everyone in the room.
"Boss wants the kid alive."