Chapter 71: Chapter Seventy

Eros

“I wish I were,” Leonardo said quietly. “But I only found out after the crash. I buried the truth for years, thinking I was protecting you. But now... you deserve to know who that family really is.”

I staggered back, as though the words had physically struck me. “You expect me to believe Athena’s father murdered my mother and sister?”

Leonardo’s voice dropped, grave and unshakable. “It wasn’t a crash. It was planned. The brakes were tampered with. Isadora was never meant to be in the car that night. I was.”

My breath caught in my throat.

“I was the target,” Leonardo continued, barely above a whisper. “He wanted me dead. But Isadora took the car instead... and your sister was with her.”

I turned away, gripping the edge of the fireplace so tightly my knuckles turned white. The night of the competition. That was when it happened. A tidal wave of rage crashed over me. Because Leonardo couldn’t keep it in his pants, my mother and sister had died.

“You should’ve told me,” I muttered, my voice low, shaking with restraint.

“I didn’t want to ruin your life with the weight of our sins,” he said. “But if you stay with Athena… that past won’t stay buried. It’ll haunt you both.”

“You should have told me!” I shouted, lunging forward and shoving him hard enough to send him sprawling to the floor. “You didn’t want to ruin my life? You just did!”

“I know,” Leonardo said, not even trying to get up. “And I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am for keeping this from you.”

“Sorry?” I bellowed, fists clenched at my sides. “Your apology won’t bring them back! My mother. My sister. They're gone because of you, you bastard!”

Leonardo opened his mouth, then shut it again. He looked small—tired, defeated, as if the weight of the past had finally broken him.

“I loved her mother,” he said hoarsely from the floor. “After we got back together, I begged Hera to leave him. I knew how abusive he’d been—how he treated her, how he treated the girls. I just wanted them safe. But she wouldn’t listen.”

If hearts could shatter like glass, mine would have filled the room with the sound. It felt like he’d reached into my chest and torn mine out with his bare hands.

“I loved her so much... I was ready to give everything up to be with Hera,” he went on, his voice barely a whisper. “I wanted to start fresh. Build something new. If she had just listened, I would’ve taken her and her daughters far away. Athena would’ve been your stepsister, Eros.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes and then spilled over. My vision blurred, but not enough to hide Leonardo from me. With a strangled growl, I lunged again—this time fists flying.

He didn’t fight back.

He let me hit him—again and again—until his face was bloodied, until my own knuckles ached from the force of my fury. Only when the rage began to ebb did I stop. I staggered back, chest heaving.

“You’re dead to me,” I said coldly, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I never want to see you. Never want to hear from you again.”

Leonardo slowly sat up, wiping blood from his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. He swayed slightly as he got to his feet, eyes locking—this time—not on me, but on Athena.

“You look just like him,” Leonardo said, his voice heavy. “You’re the female version of him on the outside. But inside, you’re more like your mother.”

Athena’s sobs grew louder at his words. She had just learned that her father was the one who had destroyed my family. He had killed my innocent mother and sister because he couldn’t even bother to take revenge on the right person. 

Leonardo was right—being together would always haunt us both. Forever.

The room fell into a thick silence. Athena seemed to realize there was no point in crying over things she could never change, and gradually, her sobs quieted.

I watched as Leonardo finally turned toward the door, after turning my world upside down. He should get an award for the worst father in the history of time.

“I’m sorry, Eros,” he muttered again, his voice low. “I hope, with time, you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I snarled back, the words sharp and bitter.

Leonardo nodded, as if acknowledging the truth in my anger. He could have spared me the heartbreak—he could’ve saved me from falling in love with the daughter of my mother’s killer.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

And with that, he was gone.

Could I ever get past this? Could I still love Athena after everything I had just learned? I tried to push the thoughts away, tried to hold onto the promise I made her—that nothing would ever come between us. 

But that was before I knew that my mother and sister had been nothing more than pawns in a doomed love triangle between Leonardo, Hera, and her criminal husband.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. I couldn’t look at Athena without seeing the face of my mother’s murderer. Now that Leonardo had said it out loud, she really did look so much like him.

I turned back to the fireplace, needing to retreat, but unsure how to express it. I hoped she would leave, but she didn’t.

“Eros...” She began, her voice cautious.

“Did you know?” I asked, my tone flat, not even bothering to look at her.

“Know what?” Her voice was hoarse from crying, confusion clouding her words.

I turned to glare at her, unable to hold back my anger. “Did you know about the affair?” I demanded coldly, my words cutting through the room like a knife.

She hesitated, looking down at her feet, unwilling to meet my eyes. My chest tightened as I covered my mouth with one hand to hold back the surge of frustration.

“How long have you known?” I pressed, my voice tight.

“I…" She looked pained. "I didn’t know until the night my mother… passed away,” she replied, her voice breaking. “I didn’t know she was having an affair with your father.”

“You heard what he said, didn’t you?” I let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow. “If your mother had just listened to him, he’d have left me for her. For you.”

“Eros…” She started, her voice shaking.

“My mother cried herself to sleep every night, Athena!” I snapped, taking a step toward her, making her recoil. “Because of your mother! Because of him!”

“I…”

“No, don’t even try to justify it!” I cut her off harshly. “Your mother was happy with my father. While mine wasn’t. She loved him with everything she had, but…” I paused, raking my fingers through my hair. “Now I’m in love with the daughter of the man who killed her? This is unbelievable.”

“Don’t forget that while you suffered a loss, I did too,” Athena shot back, her voice shaking. “I lost my twin sister just a few weeks before my mother passed.”

“Are you trying to say we’re even?” I sneered, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “Your mother died because she couldn’t get away from your father—because she was too heartless to leave him.”

Her face drained of color, the pain in her eyes evident. The words cut deeper than I intended, but I was too angry to care. I was hurting, and so should she. She needed to feel some of the hurt I was drowning in. The confessions I had made earlier meant nothing now.

“There’s no need for you to be so cruel. I know you’re hurting—”

“You don’t know the half of it, Athena,” I bit out. “One minute, I’m kissing my mother goodbye before school, and the next, she’s gone. Forever.”

“Don’t make light of my own pain, Eros!” Athena’s voice rose, her anger flaring. “Did you ever see your father beat your mother like she was nothing? Did you ever try to intervene and end up with a black eye? Or did you see him choking her before shooting her between the eyes?”

Her words hit me like a slap. There was nothing I could say to counter her pain. Nothing that could make it right.

“And just a few minutes after he killed your mother, he tried to murder you too?” She lifted the hem of her skirt, showing me the almost faded scar on her leg. “Did you ever fear for your life, after he shot at you and missed, the bullet lodging in your leg? Did you?”

I turned away, unable to meet her gaze. I hadn’t gone through half of what she had, but the anger was still boiling inside me.

“I’m truly sorry for what my father did to your family,” she said, her voice filled with sorrow. “If I had known you were also a victim, I would’ve stayed so far away from you... I would’ve kept my distance, farther than the distance between Earth and Pluto.” 

Her voice cracked, but she pushed forward, her tone softening. “Thank you for saving my life, but you should’ve let me die. If you don’t mind, I’d like to return to my miserable life.”

“I’ll let the pilot know you’re leaving,” I muttered, the weight of her words pressing down on me.

“Goodbye, Eros,” she said softly, then turned and walked out of the room—and, just as softly, out of my life.