One Hundred & Twenty Six

One Hundred & Twenty Six
Amara’s chest tightened as her father’s words landed.

His gaze cut sharply, like a blade across her skin. “You know our tradition,” Don Matteo said, his voice cold, deliberate. “We spend the night together as a family. Even if you’re being a brat… You have to. No exceptions.”

His eyes flicked toward Darius, sharp and dangerous. “The unwelcome guest can leave.”

Darius didn’t move. His jaw set, his eyes dark and steady. “I’m not leaving,” he said calmly, but there was steel in his tone. “If she spends the night, so do I.”

Amara felt a rush of warmth… relief, admiration, and love all at once. Her chest swelled. Darius wasn’t just protecting her in action… he was holding the line, right here, in front of her father.

Her father’s expression hardened, but Darius didn’t flinch. Amara’s stomach fluttered, her heart beating fast. She leaned slightly closer to Darius under the table, letting herself feel the safety in his presence.

Her father’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Fine,” he said at last, voice tight. “But remember, this isn’t about…. family. Do not forget that.”

Amara let out a quiet breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She looked at Darius, eyes softening. “Thank you,” she whispered, barely moving her lips.

He gave her a small, reassuring nod, his thumb brushing gently over her hand beneath the table. She felt grounded, protected… and for the first time since she arrived, almost at peace with the night ahead.

Her father’s eyes lingered on them a moment longer, sharp and calculating, but Amara didn’t care. Darius was there, and she would face the night with him by her side.

Amara followed her father upstairs, Darius close behind her. Every step made her stomach twist, nerves sparking with the weight of the day. The mansion, though familiar, felt colder now… walls lined with memories and shadows.

Her father led her to the room where the family always gathered for the anniversary. Candles flickered on the mantel, soft golden light casting long, trembling shadows. The familiar scent of her mother’s favorite jasmine lingered faintly, bringing a lump to Amara’s throat.

“Sit,” Don Matteo ordered, his voice steady but carrying an edge of warning. “We will start soon.”

Amara lowered herself onto the plush chair, shoulders tense. She could feel Darius behind her, a solid presence, his hand brushing hers lightly for reassurance. She leaned into that touch, letting a fraction of the tension ease.

The minutes stretched long and quiet. Her father’s eyes scanned the room, then finally rested on her. “Amara… you understand why we do this,” he said, voice calm but heavy with authority. “This night is for her… your mother. It is not about arguments or grudges.”

Amara swallowed hard. “I know,” she said quietly. Her gaze flicked to Darius, who gave her the faintest nod. Silent support.

The door opened, and her brother Valen stepped in after taking his call. Relief washed over her at the sight of him. Being alone with her father made her uncomfortable even with Darius by her side.

Darius stayed at her side, standing like a guard while letting her claim the chair beside him. She could feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Calm. Protective. Safe.

Don Matteo began the ceremonial remembrance, recounting memories, reciting traditions. Amara listened quietly, heart tight, tears pricking her eyes. Every word was heavy with history, love, and grief… but also lies, secrets, and years of control.

Her hand brushed against Darius’s. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t move, just let her feel the steady warmth of him there.

It was enough. Enough to keep her grounded, to remind her that she was no longer alone.

When the ceremony ended, all her uncles, aunties, and cousins left the room, leaving the room almost empty except for her father’s sharp glare. Amara stayed seated, shoulders slumping with relief and exhaustion. Darius leaned close, voice low and intimate.

“You did well,” he murmured.

She let out a shaky laugh. “It was… hard.”

“I know,” he said softly, thumb brushing the back of her hand again. “But you faced it. And you didn’t let him scare you. That’s… my girl.”

Amara’s cheeks warmed. “My girl?” she whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

“Yes,” he replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her temple. “My strong.. Superwoman.”

“Thank you,” she whispered

Tonight hadn’t been easy. But with Darius by her side… and Valen close she felt it.. Loved

Even in a house filled with shadows and secrets, she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

Amara climbed the stairs slowly, each step echoing in the quiet mansion. Her hand brushed along the polished railing, and for a moment, she paused, memories crashing back. The last time she had been in this part of the house, it hadn’t been a warm memory. She remembered the cold walls, the locked door, the suffocating feeling of being trapped.

Darius walked beside her, his presence solid, reassuring. She could feel his eyes on her, protective and steady. He didn’t speak, didn’t need to. Just knowing he was there was enough to keep the tightness in her chest from growing worse.

When they reached her room, Amara hesitated at the threshold. The door, the bed untouched, the faint scent of lavender. She remembered the nights she’d spent here, locked away, staring at the ceiling, counting moments until freedom. Her stomach twisted at the memory,

Darius noticed her pause.

He stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on her lower back. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “You’re safe now.”

She swallowed hard, nodding. Slowly, she stepped inside, letting herself take in the familiar surroundings. The light from the window fell across the floor, soft and forgiving, and for the first time in years, it didn’t feel like a trap… it felt like a room she could reclaim.

Darius followed, shutting the door behind them. His hand found hers instinctively, squeezing gently. “You can take your time,” he murmured. “Make it feel like yours again. I know you had a lot of bad memories but we had good memories here.”

Amara walked over to the bed, running her fingers over the quilt. She remembered crying here, trembling and scared, wishing for someone to help her. Now, with Darius beside her, the memory felt distant, softened by the warmth and protection he radiated.

She turned to him, eyes still wide but calmer. “I… I never thought I’d be able to stand in this room without feeling… trapped.”

He moved closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not trapped anymore. Not ever, as long as I’m here.”

A small smile formed on her lips, tears threatening but not falling. She could finally breathe again. The room that had once held fear now held something entirely different… hope, safety, and the quiet, undeniable comfort of being with someone who would never let her be alone.

Darius leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. “We can stay here as long as you want,” he whispered.

Amara closed her eyes, letting the words sink in. For the first time, the mansion didn’t feel like a cage. It was home again, and she wasn’t facing it alone. Not now, not ever.