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Carys had never been good at navigating chaos. She preferred structure, logic, a clean trail of information she could follow from beginning to end without interference. But the past forty-eight hours had turned the Valachi estate into a storm she couldn’t escape. Every hallway whispered a different version of the truth, every conversation contradicted the last, and every face she passed carried fear sharp enough to cut.

She felt surrounded by noise, confusion, and a pressure building behind her ribs that refused to let her breathe properly. The more she tried to sift through the rumors, the more they tangled around her legs like vines determined to drag her under. She didn’t know where to turn anymore, didn’t know who still held the truth or who was pretending they did.

On one end of the compound, Ivon lay recuperating, scarcely gracing anyone with his presence except Fiava, who had practically declared herself the gatekeeper of his recovery. She insisted on taking his meals personally. She hovered like a shadow that refused to detach itself. The household staff whispered that she slept curled in a chair outside his room, refusing to leave even when others offered to take over.

According to the news, Ivon had been shot by a rival—a petty disagreement blown into a territorial warning, they said. Reporters speculated endlessly, spinning elaborate tales about a rival boss angry with Ivon’s closeness to Rose. Some claimed it was jealousy. Others swore it was obvious bitterness. Every version was dramatic enough for tabloids to feast on.

But lies were delicious when coated in theatrics, and everyone seemed to be eating out of the palm of the false narrative. It didn’t matter that none of it aligned with reality. It didn’t matter that no one truly knew who had shot Ivon.

No one except maybe Leon.

Leon had been another enigma from the moment everything went to shit. He came and went like a ghost, leaving behind a trail of silence and locked doors. He had sealed the security gaps Ivon didn’t even know existed, locking Carys out of important places she needed now that Ivon was out of the picture for some time—changed every door code, tightened patrol routes, reassigned guards, and posted men at every door, window, and possible entry point. Even the vents, some whispered. Some said he hadn't slept in two days. Others claimed he barely spoke a full sentence unless necessary.

Whatever the truth was, Leon had become a wall. Impenetrable. Cold. And very clearly hiding something – that ‘something’ was what she needed to get the wheels turning on her mission.

Carys had watched from afar as he moved through the corridors with an intensity that made even seasoned guards step aside. He didn’t shout. He didn’t threaten. He simply existed with enough force that people adjusted themselves around him like planets shifting for the sun.

A contrast to the man who made silly faces at his sister. It would be hard for anyone else to notice the changes in him, but Carys had seen the worst of people, and she had watched him kill a man. Leon wasn’t a saint and whoever shot Leon was about to find out the other side.

And through it all, Valerie behaved as though the world was perfectly intact.

Valerie was either used to chaos, numb to it, or exceptionally good at ignoring it. Every time Carys passed her, she was doing something deceptively ordinary—playing with the doll Carys had handed to her the first day they met, working in the math puzzles even when Carys didn’t ask her to, even eating her breakfast without much fuss. The girl had mastered the art of pretending nothing was wrong. Maybe it was denial. Maybe survival. Or maybe she simply refused to let the Valachi world swallow her whole.

A world that had nearly killed her; Carys wished she had that luxury. Instead she had questions. Too many. And nowhere to put them.

She stood by the window overlooking the courtyard, arms folded tightly, tapping her fingers against her elbows as she watched the guards pace their new routes. Leon’s new routes. Two men stationed by the fountain. Another by the east entrance. A third on the roof. All of them tense.

Someone had shot Ivon.

Someone had breached the estate, and placed a dead bird in Valerie’s room.

Someone had gotten close enough to injure the one person Carys believed was useless in the grand scheme of things. And that meant someone inside was either lying… or helping.

She had mistakenly heard the brother’s conversation the day Ivon rushed off to rescue his trapped bride. Leon had been worried about something but Ivon as usual brushed it off, and he was shot.

How did they know he was going to show up? Even blending in at the exact time, comfortably working the slot between waiting and shooting their target. It was deliberate and well planned

When footsteps padded softly behind her, Carys didn’t turn right away. She already knew who it was. Valerie had a particular way of walking—light, almost careless, as though she drifted from room to room.

“You’re staring again,” Valerie handed her pad over, coming to stand beside her.

“I’m thinking.” Carys sighed, reading the next one aloud.

“Thinking looks a lot like worrying when you do it.”

Carys shot her a quick glance. Valerie only offered a small smile, warm but tired around the edges. The girl didn’t show fear easily, but the past two days had carved faint shadows under her eyes.

“Do you ever worry?” Carys asked.

Valerie considered the question, frowning in a cute way that only seven year olds do. “Not if I can help it. Worrying doesn’t fix anything. Action does. That’s what daddy says”

“And what action are you taking?” Carys pressed. Ashamed of seeking any sort of answers from the young girl.

“Staying out of the way,” Valerie lifted her small shoulders, scribbling quickly on the pad. “Things work out best if I find a safe place to hide and let everything else happen”

Carys sighed. “I can’t afford to stay out of the way.” Something wasn’t adding up, but she wasn’t sure what. Alarm bells rang in her head loud and clear, yelling at her to trust her gut and… what?

Valerie tugged on her skirt, handing the pad over. “It’s easier if you do so daddy doesn’t kill you.”

Before Carys could respond, an unfamiliar voice echoed from across the hall, yet didn’t disturb the silence clogging the house. “Valerie.”

Her spine straightened and icy fear licked the back of her neck. “Who the fuck are you and how did you get into the house?”

“I can see we haven’t been properly introduced. My name is Leo-  Leo Valachi. I want to say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I think that greeting will be extended in time.”

Carys jerked away from Valerie when something pricked her thigh, and immediately fell to her knees, losing total feeling in her legs. “What the-” Unable to continue without slurring her words, Carys could only watch Leo draw closer

“By the time you wake up, we’ll be in a place where can talk freely and you can tell me all about my sons.” His hands on her body felt all shades of wrong, but inner revulsion and her bones turning to jelly were a bad combo.

“I’m sorry” Another voice, smaller, and rough, reached her ears, dragging her under kicking and screaming.