6 - Lies

The silence that followed was not empty. The air loomed with dread and breathless tension.

Lilith barely had time to register Rafael's command before he was moving again—swift, practiced, lethal.

He pulled a drawer open beneath the counter and retrieved a second weapon, tucking it into the waistband of her jeans without asking.

His eyes met hers—stormy, unreadable—but they held a grim tenderness that made her chest ache.

"Don't hesitate," he said. "If they come close, you shoot."

"I've never—"

"You will if it's me or them." He said, locking eyes with her.

The lights remained out, the estate plunged into an eerie semi-darkness, the only illumination coming from the fractured moonlight pouring in through the tall windows.

Lilith pressed her back to the nearest wall, trying to control her breathing, her fingers tightening around cold steel like it might anchor her. The last twenty-four hours felt like a cruel blur—too much truth, too many ghosts—and now the war Rafael warned her about wasn't coming. It was already here.

A thump sounded from the hallway.

Then another followed.

Rafael stood by the doorway, gun raised, his entire body poised like a coil of fury waiting to be unleashed.

Lilith's eyes darted toward him. She couldn't explain why, but something in her gut screamed that whoever was out there—it wasn't just an assassin. It was personal.

Another crash. This time closer.

Glass splintered from above—the chandelier in the foyer giving one final cry before shattering to the marble floor below.

Rafael didn't flinch, perhaps it was the experience he gathered from surviving multiple assassination attempts.

"She knows we're here," he murmured, almost to himself.

Lilith stiffened. "She?"

Before he could answer, a voice echoed through the hallway. Calm. . Too familiar.

"Rafa..."

Lilith's blood ran cold.

She hadn't heard that voice in years..

Not since the first time someone tried to kill her.

Not since her sister vanished.

The one they buried.

The one they never found.

The one who should be dead.

Rafael's grip on the gun tightened.

Lilith took a step forward, her voice small but razor-sharp. "Ophelia?" She muttered under her breath.

From the dark beyond the hallway, the voice echoed in return.

"You shouldn't have kept her, brother. She was never yours to save."

And just like that, the past wasn't just clawing its way back.

It had broken the door down.

Lilith couldn't move. The name alone struck her like a blade to the spine.

Ophelia.

The sister who'd vanished. The ghost buried under years of silence and denial.

But the voice wasn't ghostly. It was real. Lucid and Alive.

Rafael stepped forward, shielding Lilith behind him instinctively. His entire body shifted into predator stillness, muscles coiled, eyes sharp. "That's not possible," he murmured under his breath.

But Lilith's world was already tilting. 'She's supposed to be dead.'

"No," Rafael replied coldly. "She was supposed to stay hidden."

The hallway creaked with the approach of footsteps. No rush. No panic. Just that deliberate rhythm of someone who knew they were expected.

And then Ophelia stepped into view.

Lilith's breath caught.

She looked different—older, colder. No longer the wide-eyed sister with wild laughter and messy braids. This version was clad in tailored black, her long hair sleek, her smile razor-thin.

"Hello, Sister."

Lilith couldn't speak. Her mouth opened, but the questions clashed too violently for any one of them to rise.

Ophelia's gaze slid to Rafael. "You've aged."

He didn't respond. His grip on the gun didn't waver.

She tilted her head. "Still so serious. Did she ever tell you what I was to her?"

Lilith's hands curled into fists. "Stop it."

"Oh?" Ophelia blinked innocently. "You don't want him to know the truth? That you were the reason I disappeared?"

Rafael stiffened. "What is she talking about?"

Lilith shook her head. "She's twisting it—!Ophelia, don't do this."

Ophelia stepped closer. "You were the favored daughter, the golden girl. And I… I was the asset. Trained. Conditioned. Ready to kill, bleed, vanish for the family's sake. Do you know what our father asked me to do when they started whispering about a marriage between you and Rafael?"

Rafael's eyes flicked between them.

Lilith's voice cracked. "You were supposed to leave—disappear so they wouldn't use you!"

"I was supposed to die, Lilith." Ophelia replied.

The words hit like a slap.

All this time, Lilith thought that she was marrying another man—not from the Alaric clan.

Her family turned out to pull strings behind the scenes and ended up getting what they wanted—almost.

"I went dark for years. Did what I was told. And then I learned the truth—that the two families I was meant to protect had fallen into chaos because their heirs couldn't keep their promises." She smirked coldly. "You were meant to lead. Instead, you ran."

Rafael stepped forward, weapon raised. "You broke into my house. Endangered her life. That's not family, That's war."

Ophelia raised her hands mockingly.

"So dramatic! I'm not here to kill her. Not yet..?" she eerily smiled.

"Then why?" Lilith demanded, stepping around Rafael despite his protest. "Why now?"

Ophelia's smile faded. "Because you're pregnant."

Silence.

No one moved.

Lilith's breath caught, eyes wide. "What…?"

Ophelia didn't blink. "It's not hard to guess. You look like she did, Rafael—worn down, protective. She's glowing like a woman who doesn't know she's already in the crosshairs."

Rafael turned to Lilith, but she couldn't meet his gaze.

"I didn't know," she whispered.

But her trembling hand moved instinctively to her stomach.

Ophelia watched, unmoved. "They'll come for you again. This time they won't miss. But there's still a way out..One that doesn't end with you buried like me."

Lilith forced herself to look up. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because despite everything," Ophelia said, voice low and sharp, "you're still my sister."

Then she turned, disappearing into the dark corridor as silently as she came.

Rafael lunged forward, about to follow, but Lilith caught his arm. "No. Let her go."

He spun on her, eyes wild. "You're pregnant?"

Her lips parted, but no words came. Just tears.

She had a miscarriage, why did Ophelia say otherwise? She knew that wasn't true.

And somewhere deep in the estate, a door slammed.

Not an exit.

An arrival.

They were no longer alone.