015.The Calm Before the Storm

**POV: Celestia**

I woke slowly, feeling the gentle breeze entering through the slightly open window. The delicate aroma of the garden flowers mixed with the soft freshness of the morning, bringing an almost forgotten tranquility. Still lying down, I allowed myself a moment of laziness. The soft fabric of the sheets brushed against my skin, but something felt wrong. This wasn't my room.

My eyes scanned the environment around me. The suite in the White mansion was luxurious, decorated in soft tones of cream and gold, with furniture that exuded opulence. I couldn't help but let out a tired sigh. This house, with all its grandeur, wasn't a home. Not for me.

I got up slowly, my bare feet touching the plush carpet covering the floor. Running my hands through my disheveled, long, blonde hair, I noted it was still full of life despite everything I had endured. There were subtle lines at the corners of my eyes, marks of the battles life had forced me to fight, yet my appearance remained impeccable. At 38, I knew I was still a symbol of beauty, something I had wielded as a weapon as often as I needed.

I walked to the spacious bathroom, where a white marble bathtub seemed to invite me. I turned on the hot water, letting the steam fill the room as I selected aromatic oils to add to the bath. When I submerged myself in the water, I felt my muscles relax instantly, but my mind didn't grant me the same privilege. Thoughts of Nael and Nayara insisted on occupying my head. Where were they? And what were they doing?

After the bath, I wrapped myself in a soft silk robe and walked to the closet. The clothes left for me were impeccable but too formal for my taste. I ended up choosing a fitted black dress—simple, but it elegantly outlined my curves. I added a discreet pearl necklace and sat in front of the mirror to apply my makeup.

As I smoothed foundation over my skin, my eyes locked with my reflection. They were cold, almost empty. It was amusing how makeup could hide almost everything—signs of fatigue, sadness, even the pain I carried deep in my soul. But there were things no amount of skillful makeup could erase.

When I finished, I was ready to face the day. I walked through the halls searching for my children, but the mansion was large, and they were nowhere to be found. Nael and Nayara always had the habit of hiding when something was happening, and that only deepened my worry. They were all I had, and I knew the weight of our history marked them as much as it did me.

I ended up going to the sitting room, where I found Rose, an old friend and advisor. She was seated on one of the sofas, her posture impeccable and a gentle smile on her face that contrasted with the sharpness in her gaze.

"Celestia, darling, you look tired," she said, her voice soft but loaded with intent.

"Just a long night, Rose. And you know how these parties can be... exhausting."

She nodded, but her eyes analyzed me, searching for answers I wasn't ready to give. Sitting beside her, I crossed my legs and accepted the glass of wine she offered. The conversation flowed with trivialities—business, alliances, the endless power maneuvers that never seemed to rest. But deep down, my mind was elsewhere.

Nael and Nayara were more than my children. They were fragments of myself, mirrors reflecting parts of my story I preferred to forget. And yet, there I was, trying to protect them from the same world that had shaped me.

"Celestia," Rose said, interrupting my thoughts. "You seem worried. Is something wrong?"

My smile was small, controlled.

"Nothing I can't handle."

But even as I said it, I knew something was about to happen. The peace in that house was illusory, and, like everything in our lives, it was only a matter of time before it was shattered.

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**POV: Rose**

The previous night had been a heavy burden, one that still seemed to weigh on my shoulders as the morning advanced. I felt the weight of past choices and the consequences that echoed through every corner of the mansion. The grandchildren I once dreamed of as heirs to a new era were far from innocent. But how could I blame children for their roots when the tree that bore them was rotten to its core?

Ivan. My boy. My torment. Since he was a child, he had only caused problems. Should I have expected anything different? Perhaps if I had been harsher. But motherhood is cruel; it doesn't give us all the answers, only the guilt. Ivan destroyed everything he touched. Prostitutes were his constant companions, drugs his refuge, and women, unfortunately, his prey. He broke them—physically and emotionally—with the same ease others drew breath.

I should have done more. But how, being the woman I was, could I have shaped a different man? He was my son, and no matter how much the world hated him, I could never completely abandon him.

God, in His irony, allowed Ivan to have children. Three kids with his wife, each more beautiful than the last. The girls were reflections of their father's cruel beauty. But it was the eldest son who truly stood out. He had nothing of Ivan in him. He was strong, controlled, and carried a natural authority that even Ivan seemed to respect. Perhaps that's why his younger siblings followed him, albeit with occasional reluctance.

And then there was Nael.

He was... an enigma. The product of an act of violence, a genetic error that shouldn't exist. And yet, there he was, standing before us as a living manifestation of everything incomprehensible. His face bore delicate features, an almost ethereal beauty that contrasted with his eyes—cold, calculating, and impenetrable. His hair was as white as snow, his face a constant reminder of the woman who bore him. But his eyes and his skin... those were his alone.

When I saw him for the first time, his resemblance to my husband and Kendrick was impossible to ignore. But Nael was different. He wasn't just cold; he was ice itself, solid and unshakable. He spoke little, observed much, and never, ever lost control. It was as if the entire world was just a board to him, and all of us, disposable pieces.

Even when he learned the truth about his mother, he didn't react as others would. There were no screams, no tears, no irrational violence. He processed the information, analyzed his options, and did what he deemed necessary. That almost superhuman perfection was both fascinating and terrifying. I knew, with unsettling certainty, that someone would pay dearly for everything he had endured.

I sighed, my thoughts returning to the present. The sitting room was steeped in heavy silence, broken only by the ticking of the large clock on the wall. Sunlight streamed through the enormous windows, illuminating the luxurious furniture and the soft carpet beneath my feet. The air was filled with the faint aroma of fresh flowers—a futile attempt to mask the rot that inhabited our hearts.

That was when Celestia entered.

She carried the same commanding presence as always. Her long blonde hair was perfectly arranged, and the black dress she wore accentuated every curve of her body. Celestia was the embodiment of elegance and power. As she approached, the sound of her heels echoed through the room, each step firm and determined.

"Good morning, Rose," she said, her voice smooth but laden with authority.

"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?" I asked, even though I knew her answer would be more courtesy than truth.

She smiled, that calculated smile she used to hide what she truly felt.

"Enough," she replied. "And you?"

"Oh, darling, sleeping enough would be a luxury."

We talked for a while, our words superficial while our minds waded through far deeper waters. Celestia, as always, seemed composed. But I knew that behind that façade was a woman grappling with demons as large as mine.

As she spoke, my gaze drifted to the fireplace before us. The flames danced, but the warmth they emitted didn't seem to reach my heart. I thought of Nayara, of the choice she would soon have to make. Marry the capo's son or the heir to the Russian mafia? Neither option was ideal, but better choices didn't exist in our world. And how would she and her brother react?

Today would be a heavy day, that much was certain. But for now, I allowed myself a moment of false tranquility. After all, in our world, hell could wait just a little longer.