Chapter 38 Breaking the Cycle

Chapter 38 Breaking the Cycle
Ivy

My hands were still shaking. I just stared at the paper. That company name... Isolde Holdings, Ltd. meant something. Elena Isolde, Lucian's mother. It was like Alistair had reached into a tomb and pulled out a ghost. A ghost he was using to hide something big.

A chill crawled under my skin. It wasn't just about Zara alone. It wasn't just about her running away, or me pretending. Something deeper pulsed beneath it all. The Hale family’s buried past, tangled with Lucian’s mother who never made it out. I stood there , right at the centre. Just me... Ivy, the fake Zara.

My chest felt heavy. My breathing became slow, broken. All these lies everywhere... with danger humming under the entire thing. It was too much to carry. I felt like I was back in my old house, walking on eggshells, waiting for the next hit, the next angry word. That cage around myself never really left. it just grew taller, darker, breathing down my neck like a monster.

My eyes dropped to my fingers. They were still shaking. Was I just like my mom, trapped and scared inside? Was I just repeating what Zara did, running away from one bad thing only to fall into another? worse, was I just acting out someone else’s life, letting someone else control me, exactly like my father used to do? What if I didn't deserve anything good anyway? What if I was just meant to be a puppet?

I moved back from the chair. The papers, all the numbers and words, they blurred. I needed to get away. Not long. Only for a moment. I walked towards the big window. Outside, darkness filled the world, much like what sat in my chest.

Lucian called my name softly. "Ivy?"

I stayed facing forward. My voice came out soft. "It's… it's too much, Lucian."

He arrived without sound behind me. His presence pressed against my back. He didn’t touch me yet. "What's too much? The company? My father?"

I moved my head slowly from side to side, muscles tightening across my back. "Everything. The lies, the secrets. Being here. Being… Zara.". That last word was just a whisper.

"You're not Zara," he said. His voice was low and steady. "And you haven't been Zara for a long time, not really."

I ended up turning at last. Tears likely filled my gaze. "But I am. To everyone else. I have to be. I have to lie every single day. To Alistair, to the maids, to everyone. It feels like… like I'm not real anymore. Like I'm just a shadow of someone else. And what if I mess up? What if all this comes crashing down?"

His gaze met mine, soft. "It’ll stay that way... so long as we move as one."

"But it's so much bigger now," I said. "His mother's name. Isolde. He used her name to hide money. What kind of person does that? And what if he knows? What if he knows I'm not Zara? And he’s just playing with me?" My voice broke a little. "I feel like I'm back home, walking on eggshells. Always afraid of making a mistake. Always afraid of what will happen next. My father was like that. Always watching. Always ready to get angry. And Zara… she just ran. She just left me to deal with it all."

Lucian moved closer now, without making sound. His fingers found mine, lifting them slow. He reached out and gently took my hands. They were still trembling. "Listen to me, Ivy. Deep breaths."

I tried, but it was hard.

"You're not a shadow," he said, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. "You're the realest person I know. And you're nothing like your father. You're nothing like Zara. You didn't run away. You stayed. You faced this. You've been so incredibly brave."

"But for what?" I asked, my voice thin. "To just be a pawn? To be used? My whole life, it feels like I've just been used by people. My parents, Zara, now Alistair… maybe even you." I hated that last part, but the thought was there, born from old pain.

Lucian squeezed my hands. His gaze was steady, strong. "Never me, Ivy. Never you being used by me. I promise you that. Look at what you've done. You've taught yourself how to live in this house. You've found things I never would have. You've dug into Alistair's secrets even when you were terrified. That's not the mark of someone being used. That's the mark of someone fighting back."

He paused, looking me right in the eyes. "You're not them, Ivy. You're not your parents, and you're damn sure not Zara. You're you."

A weight inside me began to loosen. His voice reached me differently than before. He saw me. Not Zara. Not just "the girl who looks like Zara." He saw Ivy.

"I just… I don't want to be controlled anymore," I confessed, the words tumbling out. "I spent my whole life being told what to do, what to say, how to act. And now it's happening again. Just in a different, fancier cage."

Lucian shook his head. "This isn't a cage, Ivy. It's a war. And we're fighting it together. You're not alone in this. Not anymore." He let go of my hands and then pulled me gently into a hug. My head rested against his chest, and I could hear his heartbeat, a steady drum. It felt safe, for a moment, like a place I could hide from all the bad things.

"This whole thing with my mother's name," he murmured, his voice rumbling against my ear. "It makes my blood boil. He’s been using her, even after she died. It’s like he’s trying to erase her, or twist everything she was." He held me tighter. "You know, it’s funny. Or maybe not funny at all. Just… strange."

I pulled away a little, lifting my eyes to meet his. "What's is?"

He frowned a little, like he was thinking hard. "My mother. Elena. Before she passed away, she was… well, she was a very strong woman. Maybe too strong for my father. And she had these odd dreams sometimes. She told me about them. Even when I was a kid."

“What sorts of dreams?” I said, interest sparking even though fear hummed under my skin.

"Just little things. But there was one, something she told me when I was very young, maybe five or six. It stuck with me. Even now. She said she had a dream that she told me to 'protect the emerald.' Just that. 'Protect the emerald.'"

It stopped... my breathing. My eyes. My eyes were emerald green. I knew Alistair had looked at them weirdly sometimes. He had even called them bright once, in a strange way.

Lucian must have seen the dawning understanding in my face. He looked at my eyes, really looked at them, and then back at me. "And now… now, seeing all this with Alistair, his strange interest in you, Zara, whatever you want to call it. And your eyes, Ivy. Those bright, beautiful green eyes. It's like… it was a message. From her. To me. About you."

My mind raced. Was it possible? His mother, from a dream so long ago, talking about me? Or rather, talking about someone with eyes like mine, someone Alistair was so interested in. It was a crazy thought, but it sent a shiver down my spine. It was like the universe was whispering something dark and important, and I was only just starting to hear it. This wasn't just about Zara, or money, or old family fights. This felt like fate. Or a trap.