Chapter 172: YOUR MOTHER MIGHT BE ALIVE
Alex didn’t go with them.
He watched the two SUVs disappear down the long driveway until the dust settled and the only sound left was the cicadas in the heat and the low hum of the AC from inside the house.
Everyone was gone. Kane, Mia, Sara. Alessia and Seraphina.
He was alone.
He turned the car around and drove back.
The packhouse looked the same in the white afternoon light. Too clean. Too exposed. Like the sun was daring him to find what was wrong with it.
He walked in. The door was still open. The living room was empty. The water bottle Mia had given Alessia sat half-drunk on the coffee table. A ring of condensation on the wood.
No ticking.
No buzzing.
Just silence.
Alex went upstairs anyway.
The nursery was on the second floor, north wing. The door was closed. He pushed it open. Dust in the air. Old toys in a corner. Faded paint on the walls.
He started pulling at the paneling with his bare hands. It came off in splinters. Behind it: a black box. Duct taped. And on it, in Ivan’s handwriting: BOOM
Tied to it with zip ties was a bundle of fireworks. The cheap kind. Red, gold, green. The kind that spark and pop and make noise and nothing else.
Alex stared at it for a long time.
His chest didn’t unclench. It got tighter.
“Fireworks,” he said out loud. To no one.
He left it there. He didn’t need Kane to confirm it. He knew.
He went back downstairs.
The basement door was open. The bulb was still swinging at the bottom of the stairs, casting moving shadows on the concrete.
Ivan was exactly where he’d left him. Back against the wall. Wrists cuffed to the pipe. Blood drying at his temple. But his eyes were bright. Awake. Waiting.
“You came back,” Ivan said when he saw Alex. “I was hoping you would. Gets lonely down here.”
Alex stopped at the bottom step. He didn’t sit. Didn’t come closer. “It was fireworks.”
“I know,” Ivan said, delighted. “Wasn’t it perfect? I’ve been holding onto those for years. For a special moment. I got bored, Alex. You put a man in a basement and he starts to think. So I thought, let’s play hide and seek. I hide the bomb, you find it. You win. Everyone gets out safe. Gold star.”
Alex’s jaw ticked. “You scared them.”
“I did,” Ivan said. “And you came running back alone. Just like I knew you would. That’s what makes you a good Alpha, nephew. You always come back for the loose ends.”
Alex turned to leave.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
“You’re not gonna ask me why?” Ivan asked.
“I don’t care why.”
“Liar,” Ivan said softly. “You care about everything. That’s your curse.”
He shifted, and the chains clinked. “I did it because I knew they’d betray me. Alessia and that bitch Seraphina. I raised them. Fed them. Told them stories about what was theirs. And the second they saw you, they chose you. People always do. So I thought, if they’re gonna leave me, I’m gonna make them remember me.”
Alex didn’t answer.
“And it worked,” Ivan continued. “You looked scared for eight whole minutes. That’s more than I’ve gotten out of you in years.”
Alex took another step toward the stairs.
“Don’t you want to know the truth though?” Ivan asked. “Before you go back to your little family and pretend this never happened?”
Alex paused.
“Alessia isn’t yours,” Ivan said. Flat. Simple. “Not by blood. Not even a little.”
Alex turned, slow.
“What did you say to me.”
“I said we found her,” Ivan said, and he smiled. “Romania. Parents dead. No one came to claim her. She was very little and screaming because no one was around to console her. I took her, told the pack that she was your long lost sister because ‘charity case’ doesn’t look good on a Black Fang. Easier to lie.”
Alex stared. The basement felt too small.
“She doesn’t have De Luca blood in any way” Ivan went on. “ she is just a girl I picked up. And you loved her and didn't kill her despite all she did because you think she was your.sister anyway. That’s the sad part.”
Alex’s hands were fists again. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Ivan shrugged. “Burn the records if you want. But you know it’s true. You’ve always known something was off.”
Alex didn’t respond. Because part of him had. And when Alessia told him, a part of him also wanted Ivan to confirm it.
Ivan leaned forward. “But that’s not the real bomb. That was just the fuse.”
Alex didn’t move.
“The real bomb,” Ivan whispered, “is your mother.”
The word hit like a weight.
“What about her.” Alex’s voice was barely there.
“She might be alive.”
Alex took a step forward without meaning to.
Alex couldn’t breathe. “Where.”
“I don’t know,” Ivan said, and he didn't look sorry about it. “All I know is that she didn't die from the silver.”
Alex grabbed him. Yanked him up until Ivan’s shoulders slammed against the wall and the cuffs bit into his skin. Ivan hissed.
“Tell me where,” Alex said. His voice was shaking. “Now.”
“I told you I don’t know,” Ivan gasped, but he was smiling through the pain. “I can find out. I have people. But you have to keep me alive, Alex. You have to need me.”
Alex let go. Ivan slid down the wall and landed on the floor with a grunt.
“You’re a monster,” Alex said.
“I know,” Ivan said, wiping blood from his lip. “But I’m the only monster who knows where your mom might be. So what are you gonna do?”
Alex stared at him. The anger was there. The grief. And underneath it, traitorous and bright: hope.
He turned and walked out.
Up the stairs. Through the empty living room. Out into the sunlight.
He sat on the front steps.
Alone.
Alessia wasn’t blood.
Elena might be alive.
From inside the basement, Ivan started laughing again. Low and dry and victorious.