Author's POV
In Spain, no one ever had to ask where the center of their entire family was.
It was in the middle.
The Smith mansion.
To the left was the Yee estate. To the right was the Sy estate. Both large, both secure, both impossible for the wrong people to enter. But despite the three neighboring mansions, it was still in one house that the cousins were most used to gathering.
At the Smith mansion.
That was where they grew up. That was where they became used to the same kind of silence. That was where they first learned that love in their family was neither gentle nor loud. It was built in routine, discipline, blood, and presence. So even if they each had their own houses to return to, their footsteps still met most often in the mansion at the center.
And that night, the moment Gia stepped into the Smith mansion, she felt that every wall was too alive.
Not because it was noisy.
But because too many eyes in that house knew how to read her moods.
The marble hallway was long, the light from the antique chandeliers cold, and every corner was spotless in the way that clearly showed it was maintained by people used to extreme security. In the distance, there was the faint sound of cutlery coming from the dining wing, but that was not the direction Gia took.
She headed straight for the grand staircase.
The staff did not stop her. No one questioned her in that house. Not because no one wanted to interfere, but because everyone knew that in this family, the wrong question could sometimes earn the wrong coffin.
When she reached the second floor, she passed the long gallery of family portraits without sparing them a glance. She already knew those faces. Grandfathers with stares that looked capable of stopping wars. Women who looked born to rule and kill without ever needing to raise their voices. Men who barely smiled but were clearly not meant to be tested.
Her bloodline had never believed softness was a way to survive.
Maybe that was why Gia had never learned how to be weak.
She was about to continue straight to her own suite when she heard soft footsteps coming from the other end of the hallway.
Not heavy.
Not hurried.
She knew that rhythm.
When she turned, Georgina was there.
They had the same face, but the difference between them became obvious the moment they stood side by side. If Gia was fire that did not know how to pretend it was not hot, Georgina was the kind of woman who could stand elegantly even with a knife hidden behind her back.
She stood there beneath the lights in a simple cream dress, her hair falling neatly down her back, looking like a quiet storm.
"I was looking for you," Georgina said.
Gia arched a brow. "You found me."
"Clearly."
Neither of them moved toward the other at once. That was how they were, even as twins. They were not clingy. They were not the kind of sisters who hugged first when something was wrong. They stood, they measured, they understood.
Georgina moved first.
She walked closer until she stopped a few steps away from her sister. Her gaze was more careful than her voice allowed.
"You came back here too soon."
Gia leaned against the hallway pillar. "This is still my house."
"You know what I mean."
"Do I?"
Georgina held her gaze. "Yes."
The hallway around them was quiet. Down below, there was the faint sound of a door closing. Somewhere in the west wing, two staff members passed by without even looking in their direction. In this family, you learned early which silences were better left untouched.
Gia crossed her arms. "Say what you came to say."
Georgina did not answer right away. She only looked at her twin as if deciding which version of the truth she could throw into the night without making it explode immediately.
"Several men already refused."
Gia did not move.
But her jaw tightened slightly.
Georgina continued. "One laughed."
"Charming."
"Another said no amount would be enough."
That was when Gia smiled.
Very slightly.
Very bitterly.
"At least he was honest."
"Gia."
"What?" she asked coldly. "Should I cry because rich men don't want me? I'd rather they choke."
Georgina's voice dropped. "That's not the point."
"No," Gia said. "The point is they're trying to hand me off like I'm an expensive disaster."
Georgina did not deny it.
And that silence was answer enough.
A few seconds passed.
Then Gia pushed away from the pillar and walked past her twin toward the open terrace at the end of the hall. Georgina followed.
On the terrace, the air was cold, and from there the three neighboring mansions could be seen clearly. To the left was the Yee estate, vast and quiet. To the right was the Sy estate, beautiful and dark in some places, as if a predator were asleep inside it. And in the center was the Smith mansion itself, alive in the way houses full of secrets always were, though none of them ever had to confess anything.
Gia stopped at the railing and looked down.
There were lights in the stables beyond the rear gardens.
She knew who was there.
Not because someone had told her.
Because Gabriel preferred to think around horses when he was angry, and Anthony never wasted time pacing halls when there was work to be finished elsewhere.
As if summoned by thought alone, they heard the soft sound of a car stopping at the side drive.
Georgina glanced toward it. "Anthony's leaving."
Gia did not turn. "Of course he is."
"South America again."
"He never stays when he doesn't need to."
"Neither do you."
That made Gia laugh once, softly. "True."
Below them, the back entrance opened. From the terrace, one part of the rear courtyard was visible. Two security men came out first. Then Anthony.
Even from that distance, his presence was heavy. Straight posture. Clean lines. Not a trace of hurry. No dramatic flair. No aura of being a mere figure in Gabriel's shadow. Anthony looked exactly like what he was, another throne, another line of power, another man the world had learned not to test twice.
From the other side of the courtyard, Gabriel appeared.
They did not walk side by side.
They did not speak for long either.
They only met briefly beside Anthony's car. One exchange. One look. A few words.
Too brief to read from afar.
Too serious to mean nothing.
"Do they know?" Georgina asked.
Gia knew who she meant.
Gabriel and Anthony.
She watched the men below for a moment longer before answering.
"Gabriel knows enough."
"And Anthony?"
"He knows something is moving."
"Is he involved?"
That time, Gia turned to her twin and lifted a brow. "Anthony doesn't get involved. He decides."
A faint, humorless smile touched Georgina's mouth. "Fair."
Below them, Anthony's car drove off, fast but never rushed. Gabriel remained in the courtyard, looking toward the rear drive first before lifting his gaze toward the terrace itself.
Straight to them.
Of course.
He had already seen them.
Even from above, Gia could feel the weight of her brother's stare. She did not wave. She did not back away either. She only looked back at him as if she had nothing to hide, even though the truth was that she was already counting bags, routes, and money in her head.
After a few seconds, Gabriel turned and walked back inside the mansion.
"Still creepy," Georgina murmured.
"Still Gabriel," Gia replied.
Then silence settled again.
It was quieter than Georgina wanted and colder than Gia wanted. But in that silence, the heavier truth remained.
The offers had begun.
Not rumor.
Not possibility.
Movement.
And once conversations of this kind started moving in their world, they were never a joke.
"There's one," Georgina finally said.
Gia did not look at her right away. "One what."
"Interested."
Gia slowly lifted her eyes to her sister.
The wind moved between them.
"Interested," Georgina repeated. "Not agreed. Not final. But interested enough that the conversations didn't stop."
For one long beat, Gia showed no reaction.
Then she laughed.
Sharp.
Beautiful.
Ugly in all the right ways.
"Of course there is."
"Gia."
"What?" she asked, all softness gone now. "Do you want me to be shocked that somewhere out there, a man heard money was attached and suddenly found patience?"
"We don't know if it's only money."
Gia's eyes turned cold when she answered. "Then he's worse."
Georgina swallowed. Not from fear. She was used to Gia. But there were moments when even she could feel how close her sister was to making a decision there would be no returning from.
This was one of those moments.
"You need to stay still," she said carefully.
That earned her a look.
Deadly. Disbelieving.
"Did you really just tell me that."
"I'm telling you not to run blindly."
"I don't do anything blindly."
"You do everything angrily."
Gia smiled. This time without warmth. "And you think that's stopped me before?"
"No." Georgina stepped closer. "I think it's the reason I'm here before you burn something down."
Their eyes met.
Same face.
Different storms.
Below them, the air grew colder. From the gardens came the faint scent of soil and night. In the distance, a horse let out a soft sound from the stable grounds, and for some reason that familiar noise made the whole moment feel sharper.
Gia looked away first.
Not in surrender.
Only in thought.
"I'm not waiting for them to make the decision for me," she said quietly.
Georgina's voice gentled, though only slightly. "Then don't. But if you leave, leave properly."
That made Gia go still.
Slowly, she turned back. "You think I'm joking."
"I think you've already decided."
Gia did not defend herself.
She did not deny it either.
Because both of them knew the truth.
Her mind had already moved past offense.
Past anger.
Into action.
Georgina exhaled. "Then listen carefully. If you go, don't touch your cards. Don't use the usual names. Don't take anything that can be tracked through the family networks. And don't underestimate how fast Gabriel will move once he realizes you're actually gone."
At that, the corner of Gia's mouth shifted slightly.
"That part," she said, "I'm counting on."
"Of course you are."
For the first time that night, a real almost-smile passed between them.
Small.
Crooked.
Gone too quickly to be called softness.
In a family like theirs, that was probably the closest thing to tenderness.
Georgina stepped back first. "I shouldn't stay long. If anyone asks, I was never here."
"Then why come?"
Her twin paused.
Then, quietly, "Because I would rather hear your plan than hear about your disappearance."
That struck harder than Gia expected.
Not in a weak way.
In the kind of way that reminded her that even in the worst families, there were still a few people who looked at you as a person, not a problem.
And that was dangerous too.
Because it made leaving harder.
But not hard enough.
Gia watched as Georgina turned and walked back into the hallway, as calm and composed as ever, carrying her secrets neatly behind her shoulders.
When she was alone again, Gia stayed on the terrace for a long time.
Below her, the lights of the three mansions were quiet. Smith in the middle. Yee on the left. Sy on the right. Three houses. One bloodline tied tighter than walls.
In other countries, they had one mansion together.
In Spain, they had three.
But in the end, the truth was still the same.
No house had ever been built to hold Georgia Smith if she truly wanted out.
Slowly, she rested both hands on the cold railing and looked up at the dark sky.
Some laughed.
Some refused.
One was interested.
Fine.
Let them talk.
Let them negotiate.
Let them measure numbers, names, patience, and pride.
By the time they reached a final answer, she intended to be somewhere none of them would expect.
And from the way she smiled on the terrace of the Smith mansion that night, only one thing was clear.
The question was no longer whether she would leave.
The only question left was how much it would hurt them once they realized Georgia Smith had already beaten them to it.