[EVE]
"Dean?"
He pulled off his shades, and the man who erged was not the boyish, carefree guy I rembered. His eyes were colder, sharper. His smile was more a warning than a welco.
"Yes, it's ," he said, stepping forward.
Then he looked at Dave, Dutch, and the others—his expression turning murderous.
"How dare you lay a hand on my sister," he said, voice like thunder. "And pretend to be her family? That alone is enough for to have you all killed."
Sister?
My head spun. I stared at Dean, my breath caught sowhere in my throat. "W-What?"
Dean turned to then, and his expression softened. Only slightly. "There's a lot you don't know, Eve. But right now, what matters is that I'm here. You're safe. And those parasites—" He gestured behind him, "—are never going to touch you again."
My legs gave out, and I dropped to my knees, the weight of it all crashing over . Relief, fear, betrayal—so many emotions surged at once, I could barely hold on.
My mind was a storm—chaotic, swirling with thoughts I couldn't pin down. Deep down, sothing in scread that there was sothing off about Dutch, Helen, and their perfect little family.
Their smiles felt too polished, their kindness too tily, too . . . convenient. But I was bleeding inside, still raw from what Cole had done to . That betrayal had cracked sothing in wide open, and I was terrified—utterly terrified—of facing another knife in the back.
So I looked away.
I buried my suspicions, told myself I was imagining things, and clung to the illusion they offered like a lifeline. Because the truth? I couldn't afford to unravel again. Not yet. Not after Cole.
And they knew it. They saw the cracks, the vulnerability—and they used it. They wrapped in comfort, in false warmth, feeding just enough affection to dull the edge of my instincts. I was being manipulated, and a part of knew it . . . but I let them. I let them lead deeper into their ga, all because I didn't have the strength to face the truth.
Because if I pulled on that thread, I feared everything—everything—would co undone.
Dean knelt beside , pulling into a firm, protective embrace.
"You're not alone anymore," he whispered. "Not ever again."
I didn't know what happened next. Everything unfolded so quickly, it blurred into chaos. My head was spinning, and my thoughts barely kept up.
Dutch, Helen, and their children—my so-called family—were on their knees, their hands bound tightly behind their backs, gags forced into their mouths. Their eyes were wide with panic, cheeks streaked with tears as they mumbled broken apologies through the cloth. Pleading, shaking, desperate.
And then—silence. The gags were secured. The begging stopped.
Only muffled sobs remained.
I stood there, numb and dazed, my heart pounding against my ribs like it wanted out. The sharp scent of fear and cold tal lingered in the air. I felt like I had stumbled into a scene I was never ant to witness.
"W-What's going to happen to them?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper. I couldn't tear my eyes away from them—once the people I trusted most, now nothing more than trembling strangers tied up like criminals.
"You don't have to worry about them anymore," Dean said beside , his voice low and steady. "They'll be out of your life forever."
The words hit like a wave. Final. Absolute. A door slamming shut.
And then, just like that, the scene faded.
The next thing I knew, I was buckled into a seat aboard a sleek private jet, clouds streaking past the window.
Dean sat across from , calm, composed, as if all of this was just another day in his world.
We were heading to Frizkiel to et up with my real family.
And I . . . I still couldn't process it.
I had lost Cole.
I had been fed lies, wrapped in a fabricated sense of belonging by people who were never truly my family.
And now . . . I had gained a truth I wasn't ready for.
A real family.
Yet, even with all the chaos still clinging to like smoke, I didn't doubt Dean. Not even for a second.
There was sothing in the way he looked at —like he'd known all along. Like he had been searching for through every shadow I'd ever walked in. His arm, protectively resting behind , was solid and warm. His voice, when he spoke, held no malice—only a quiet promise that I was safe now. That I didn't have to keep fighting alone.
And though my mind still reeled from the whirlwind, deep in my bones, I felt it—Dean was my brother.
Not by convenience. Not by sche.
By blood.
I felt it—in my bones, in the deepest, quietest corners of my heart.
A truth I didn't know I'd been waiting for all these years.
Dean wasn't lying. He didn't need to convince thought he did with a lot of papers before dragging in the plane. I could feel the truth in his presence—solid, warm, protective.
"I know this is a lot to take in, Eve," he said gently, his hand wrapping around mine. His grip was steady, reassuring. "But I'm here now. I'm with you . . . all the way."
The steady hum of the plane was the only sound between us for a mont. My thoughts were still a scrambled ss. Emotions pulled in a hundred directions—relief, pain, fear, confusion. But one question clawed its way out from the storm inside , one I had carried like a splinter in my soul for as long as I could rember.
"Why . . . why didn't you find sooner?"
My voice cracked, raw with pain I had buried for too long. "Why did it take this long?"
Dean's expression changed in an instant. The warmth in his eyes dimd, replaced by a deep sorrow, a quiet fury directed not at —but at the past.
"Believe , Eve . . ." he began, voice thick with emotion. "We never stopped looking for you. Not for a single day."
He leaned forward, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. "You were taken from us—stolen—in the dead of night. You were just a baby. One mont, you were in your crib . . . and the next, gone. Vanished without a trace."
I could see the pain flash behind his eyes, and it wasn't performative—it was real. A wound that never healed.
"We turned the world upside down searching for you," he said, his jaw tightening. "We chased every lead, begged, threatened, and burned bridges trying to find answers. And every ti we hit a wall, we started again. We never gave up."
Tears welled up in my eyes before I even realized it. For so long, I thought I had been thrown away. Forgotten. Unwanted. But now . . .
"I know," he continued softly, "you've been hurt. You probably thought you were abandoned. That no one ca for you, and you've been alone all these years. And for that, Eve . . . I'm sorry. I wish I could take that pain away."
He exhaled shakily, squeezing my hand tighter. "But I swear to you . . . from this day onward, things will be different. You won't be alone anymore. Not ever again."
His voice dropped to a vow, heavy and firm.
"I'm your brother. And I will protect you and make it up for you—for the rest of my life."
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