[EVE]
When we finally landed in Frizkiel, I thought the hard part was over. That the whirlwind was behind .
But the mont I stepped into the grand halls of the Frizkiel estate—a towering mansion nestled deep in the highlands, where the clouds kissed the marble rooftops—I realized that the most overwhelming mont had yet to co.
I was ho.
Not the kind I had invented in my head to soothe myself to sleep. Not the illusion I clung to out of desperation.
This was real.
And standing before . . . were my real parents.
Evangeline Cole Frizkiel and Eric Frizkiel.
There was no need for a DNA test. No papers. No explanations. The mont I saw them, I knew. I had my mother's features—the sa high cheekbones, the sa elegant poise. And my eyes . . . they were my father's. Clear and sharp, with a depth that told a thousand unspoken stories.
My legs trembled. My breath caught in my throat. And before I could say a word, she—my mother—stepped forward.
"Eve," she whispered, her voice breaking.
She had the kind of presence that silenced rooms. Regal, composed, a woman who wore confidence like silk. But in that mont, all the polish cracked. Her eyes brimd with tears, her lip quivered, and as she pulled into her arms, the weight of years spilled out in a sob that pierced the air.
"We've finally found you. At last . . . all my payers . . . my wish had been granted . . ."
I clung to her like a child again, no longer Eve the abandon, the unloved, the girl who had to grow up too soon. I let myself crumble, burying my face in her shoulder as tears stread freely down my cheeks.
Then I turned—to the man who had always been just a ghost in my dreams.
My father.
Eric Philipe Frizkiel was tall, dignified, with salt-and-pepper hair and eyes that once might have seed cold to a stranger. But not to . The mont our eyes t, sothing inside him shattered. His stern face broke into a soft, shaky smile, and for a man so stoic, the tears that slid down his cheeks felt all the more powerful.
He said nothing.
He simply stepped forward and wrapped in his arms—strong, firm, grounding. As if by holding , he could make up for all the years I'd been gone.
And then—my brothers.
Three of them. Each so different.
Damien, the eldest, who ran the family business with quiet authority. He was composed, serious, dressed in a tailored suit that said he was always ready to take on the world. But the mont he hugged , his composure lted. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you again," he murmured, voice cracking.
Dante, the second, was a renowned doctor—he slled faintly of antiseptic and cologne, his white coat draped over his arm. He held gently, as if I might break. "You don't have to hurt anymore," he said, wiping away one of my tears with his thumb. "Not on your own. Never again."
And finally, Dean—my wild, protective third eldest brother, the one who had found . The social dia star, the charming face of the Frizkiels. He didn't say anything, just ruffled my hair and grinned, pride shining in his eyes as he continuously repeated that he was the one who found .
Surrounded by them—my mother, my father, my brothers—I felt small. But for the first ti, that smallness didn't make feel afraid. It made feel safe. Like I could finally exhale. Like I didn't have to be strong anymore, because they were here now. They would protect . They had my back—now and forever.
I was Eve Cole Frizkiel, the youngest of them all.
The daughter who had been stolen, lost in the shadows, and now—finally, miraculously—returned to the light.
It felt strange, how they were the most powerful people in all of Frizkiel. Their na alone could shake boardrooms and dia headlines. And yet . . . it took them this long to find .
But I didn't bla them.
Frizkiel was remote—nearly a full day's flight from New York. And the syndicate that orchestrated my abduction wasn't just so petty criminal group. They had reach. Influence. Operations that crossed borders and silenced anyone who ca too close.
Still, none of that mattered now.
The past was a scar I would carry, but today—today was a healing.
I was finally in the arms of the people I had been searching for my entire life, even when I didn't know I was searching.
Warmth surrounded . Laughter. Tears. Love so pure, so raw, it stripped bare and stitched back together all in the sa breath.
And for the first ti in a long ti . . .
I felt whole.
I felt ho.
=== 🤍 ===
As for Dutch, Helen, Dave, and Haley, they t a fate worse than death.
For months, they had played their parts—pretending to be Eve's family, feeding her lies wrapped in warmth and affection. They wore smiles like masks, offered comfort like poison. And all the while, they knew. They knew she wasn't theirs. They knew she was lost, broken, searching for sothing real. And they took advantage of that.
Their punishnt ca swiftly.
The mont the truth surfaced, Dean ensured there was no rcy. They weren't killed—no, death would've been a kindness. Instead, they were taken. Stripped of their false lives, exposed for the frauds they were, and delivered into the hands of those who demanded answers.
The interrogation that followed was brutal. Dutch put on a brave face, Helen wept. Dave broke first, and Haley scread until her voice gave out. But in the end, they had little to offer. They weren't masterminds—just puppets hired to play a role. Henchn. Useless in the grander sche of the syndicate.
Only one na surfaced through their trembling lips: Sullivan Rosette.
That changed everything.
Because now it wasn't just about Eve's abduction. It was about the syndicate. The layers of corruption. The long-hidden truths. And Sullivan—he was involved in the syndicate.
As for the imposters, they were cast into the deepest, most torturous prison cells in the frozen dungeons of Frizkiel.
They had dared to impersonate the family of a Frizkiel-blooded princess—deceiving her, manipulating her, and taking advantage of her innocence. For that, the punishnt was far worse than death.
Day after day, they were subjected to relentless tornt in the cold, unforgiving dark, their screams swallowed by the ice and stone. There would be no escape, no final release—only endless suffering in a place where warmth and rcy did not exist.
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