Return
I sank into the seat, pulling the strap of my bag tight across my chest like armor. The leather smelled faintly of dust and polish, the car was neat, and too pristine for the storm churning inside me.
As the engine started and the gates of the house opened, I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. But it wasn’t relief that filled me, it was emptiness.
My thoughts wouldn’t leave me alone. They circled back, over and over, to that dining table this morning. The warmth, the banter, the laughter spilling from Luca’s family as naturally as water from a spring. His grandmother teasing, his mother blushing, his father amused. It was chaos, but it was happy. It was the kind of family scene I had only ever seen in passing, never felt.
And then there was this house—my house. Cold walls, poisonous words, bruises disguised as lessons, love withheld like punishment. I clenched my fists in my lap, my nails biting into my palms.
For one small, fragile moment this morning, I’d thought maybe… maybe this was what family was supposed to feel like. But stepping back here had reminded brutally that it wasn’t mine. It would never be mine. After I succeeded in the mission, I would have to return back home.
I turned my face toward the window, watching the city blur past. People walked along the streets, laughing, carrying shopping bags, holding children’s hands. Their lives looked ordinary, simple. And mine? Mine felt like a battlefield, every step, every breath, was a fight to not be swallowed whole.
My tongue still stung where I’d bitten it. I could almost hear Vincent’s voice, hard and dismissive, echoing in my skull: You’re disappointing me, Lana. What are you even doing here?
And Athena’s voice layered over it, sweet venom: Did Luca chase you away already?
My jaw clenched so tight it hurt. She had my bracelet. I knew it. She could lie, she could cry, she could twist the truth until the world bent around her, but I knew. And soon, I’ll take it back.
For now, though, I sat in the car, mood ruined, my chest heavy. The driver didn’t speak again, and I was grateful. Silence was better. Silence didn’t accuse me. Silence didn’t slap me.
As the car carried me farther from the house I’d never call home, I pressed my forehead against the cool glass and whispered, so softly. “ I wish I were never born.”
**
Later I arrived back at Luca’s room and shut the door behind me then leaned against it, staring at the familiar space that had been turned upside down earlier when I had stormed into Athena’s room like a fool. My cheek still burned faintly from Father’s slap. His words replayed in my head like an echo: You’re disappointing me too much, Lana.
Ughhh! I couldn’t get his fucking voice out of my head!
I bit down hard on my tongue until the metallic taste of blood forced me to stop. No one wanted them. Athena had him wrapped around her little finger and I was just… extra.
Always extra.
But here, inside this room, with my laptop resting in its sleek black case, I wasn’t just Lana, the discarded daughter, the one accused of being bitter and jealous. Here, I was something else entirely.
I tossed my bag on the chair, pulled my laptop free, and set it on the desk. The familiar weight grounded me. This was my real sanctuary. My real power.
With a few keystrokes, the dark screen lit up, reflecting faintly in my eyes. My pulse slowed, my breathing evened out. My fingers danced over the keyboard, no hesitation, no second-guessing. I didn’t need Father’s approval here. I didn’t need anyone’s pity. Out there, I was a pawn. In here, I was untouchable.
No one knew that Lana, the disappointing daughter, the outsider was in fact Nyx, one of the most notorious hackers in the world. No one, except one hacker who had haunted me for years.
Cas.
The only rival who had ever beaten me.
I pushed the thought aside and focused on work. The first thing I pulled up was the tracker on my investments. Numbers streamed across the screen like falling rain. Red, green, gold lines rising and dipping. I adjusted a few positions, shifted a couple of trades, and smiled faintly when the graphs bent to my will. Money was never really my goal, but it gave me leverage, it gave me freedom. Freedom no one could take.
My real interest lay deeper, in the systems I built and dismantled. Governments, corporations, the elite that all thought their walls were ironclad. I had torn them down a hundred times and rebuilt them in ways they never realized.
Tonight, though, my fingers hesitated on the keys. Something itched at the back of my mind, a static that wouldn’t leave me alone. It had been months, no, a year since I last felt it.
I stilled, staring at the stream of code across my monitor. The itch sharpened. I straightened, narrowing my eyes.
No. It can’t be.
I typed in a quick test command, embedding a trace through the system. The screen flickered once, then stabilized. For a moment, I thought I was imagining things, paranoia bred from exhaustion. But then a single line of text appeared, uninvited, cutting through my code like a knife.
Finally decided to crawl back out of your hole?
My heart stopped for a moment.
Cas.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, rigid, my mind screaming. The cursor blinked at me like a taunt.
I typed back.
Took you long enough to show your face. Thought you’d retired.
There was a pause. Long enough that I almost believed he had gone again. Then another line appeared.
Faces are dangerous. I don’t have one. And neither do you.
I swallowed. That was Cas. Always answering, but never actually giving anything away. A riddle wrapped in his every word.
You’ve been quiet, I wrote, my jaw clenched. Why?
Maybe I was waiting.
My pulse quickened. Waiting? For what?
For me?
Another pause.
For the right move. And now you’ve made it.