Third person's pov

They were hauling the last few boxes into the back of the car when Elijah finally closed the trunk, dusted his hands off, and grinned at the group. “All set?” he asked.

Everyone nodded, with a spark of excitement and curiosity lighting up their eyes. They all knew Elijah had worked hard to find this place, but no one really had any idea what to expect. Only Elijah had seen the place in person, and he’d been intentionally vague about it—just enough to keep them on edge.

The drive was filled with eager chatter, a buzz of excitement that grew the closer they got. Elijah kept a quiet smile, his hands relaxed on the wheel. After a bit of a winding drive through some lush greenery, they finally turned down a long, gravel driveway, and there it was.

The mansion stood like something out of a dream, bathed in sunlight, with sprawling grounds stretching out on either side. It was the kind of place you’d see on the cover of a magazine—a combination of old-world elegance and modern luxury, with ivy crawling up the walls and towering arched windows that glinted in the afternoon sun.

As Elijah turned off the engine, everyone just… stared.

“Holy—” Maxim started, but he seemed to lose his words halfway.

Ethan’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide as he scanned the property. Even Lorenzo, who usually had a composed air, looked genuinely taken aback, his brows raised as he took in the sight. And Miray… she was speechless. Her hand moved to cover her mouth as she just gawked at the house, her eyes flickering over every detail, trying to take it all in.

Elijah chuckled, a look of pure pride shining in his eyes as he took in their reactions. “Well,” he said, breaking the silence, “I’ve worked pretty damn hard for this. Nice to see it was worth it.”

Ethan finally snapped out of it, breaking into a grin as he let out a low whistle. “Elijah, you’ve outdone yourself, man. This place is insane.”

“Understatement,” Maxim muttered, shaking his head in awe as he adjusted his grip on a box. “This is... something else.”

They moved slowly towards the front entrance, like they were approaching something sacred. Elijah unlocked the door, swinging it open with a little flourish, and stepped aside to let them all walk in ahead of him.

The inside was nothing short of magnificent. A grand staircase curved up to the second floor, the banister polished to a gleaming shine. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting soft, shimmering light over the space. The floors were polished marble, and the walls were adorned with intricate moldings and delicate artwork.

“Oh my god,” Miray breathed, her eyes wide as she spun around to take it all in. She could hardly believe this was going to be their home.

“You weren’t kidding,” Lorenzo said, turning to Elijah, a look of genuine admiration in his eyes. “This is... incredible.”

Elijah just shrugged, trying to play it cool, but there was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “Nothing but the best for you all,” he said, a touch of pride in his voice.

They started exploring the rooms, each one feeling like something out of a dream. There was a grand library with towering bookshelves and a cozy fireplace, a game room equipped with everything they could want, and a state-of-the-art kitchen that seemed straight out of a chef’s fantasy. When they finally reached the bedrooms, Elijah gestured down the hall. “Each room has been  personalized for you all but if you guys would like to change anything let me know."

Everyone scattered, darting from room to room, each one trying to claim their favorite. Miray wandered into a room with tall windows that overlooked the gardens outside. The bed was enormous, draped with soft, luxurious blankets, and the walls were painted a soothing shade of blue. It felt peaceful, like it was made just for her.

She turned to find Elijah standing in the doorway, watching her with a soft, fond expression. He stepped into the room and pulled her into a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “I’m proud of you, you know that?” he murmured quietly. “And I love you.”

A warm smile spread across her face, and she looked up at him, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you, Elijah… It really means alot.”

He just smiled, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before pulling back. “Now,” he said, clearing his throat, “you all should get some rest. I’ve got a few things to take care of, but when I get back, we’ll check out the surprise I mentioned.”

With that, he left, leaving everyone to explore at their own pace. Miray spent a while wandering the house, marveling at every little detail. She couldn’t believe this was where they were going to live now—this beautiful, incredible place. It felt like a fresh start, like the beginning of something good.

The Mansion

Miray's Room

The Dance room

(What can i say? I love black hehe🤭
This is how I envision the house. Feel free to add your own interpretation!)

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The sun was dipping below the horizon as Elijah pulled into the driveway, his heart pounding with anticipation. Tonight was special; he’d waited for this moment ever since they first stepped foot in the house. As he walked in, he called out to everyone, a hint of excitement lacing his usually calm voice.

“Come on, everyone. There’s something I want to show you.”

They gathered around, curious but trusting, following Elijah as he led Miray by the hand down the hall. She glanced up at him, her expression questioning, but he just smiled, squeezing her hand as they turned down a corridor she hadn’t noticed before. The others trailed behind, watching quietly, sensing that whatever lay ahead was meant for her.

At the end of the hall, Elijah stopped in front of a heavy door and pulled a key from his pocket. Miray felt a strange flutter in her chest, her pulse quickening as he turned the lock and slowly pushed the door open.

The room unfolded before them, bathed in soft lighting that picked up hues of grey, black, and muted silver on the walls—Miray’s favorite colors, her sanctuary of calm and strength combined. One whole wall was a floor-to-ceiling mirror, gleaming in the warm light, casting reflections of each of them, making the space feel endless. Her eyes widened as she took in the details, her gaze moving to the corner where a sleek, black piano stood—a quiet promise waiting to be fulfilled.

She took a few tentative steps into the room, the soft padding beneath her feet, and reached out, brushing her fingertips against the smooth walls. Memories rushed back in waves. She used to dance freely, spinning and twirling to her heart’s content—until Arthur's scathing words had taken that from her. She hadn’t danced in years. And now, here was a space crafted just for her, as if Elijah had built this room from pieces of her heart she’d long buried.

She stopped, her hand lingering against the mirror, and tears pricked her eyes, blurring her reflection. She turned, her voice catching in her throat, but before she could speak, she darted toward Elijah. With a running start, she leapt up, wrapping her legs around him, burying her face in his shoulder as her arms clung tightly around his neck.

Elijah held her up, whispering gently, “You’re home, Miray. I love you. This is all yours now—no one will take this from you again.”

His voice soothed the ache she hadn’t known she’d carried all these years. Miray squeezed him tighter, feeling a mix of relief and joy that seemed to light her whole soul from within. She felt Maxim, Lorenzo, and Ethan gathering close, a warmth settling around her. They all knew how much this meant to her; every single one of them could feel the weight of this moment. Their sister had her joy back, her dreams.

As she finally loosened her grip and slid down, Maxim ruffled her hair with a fond grin, and Lorenzo gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The room was filled with a shared understanding, a silent vow that they would protect this happiness she’d just found.

Flashback

Little Miray was running, her small hand gripping Maxim’s as she led him eagerly down the hallway toward her room. “Come on, come on! I learned a new dance. You have to see it!” she chimed, her voice bursting with excitement, pulling him along with surprising strength for such a tiny person.

Maxim followed with an amused chuckle, settling onto the edge of her bed as she released his hand and moved to the center of the room. He looked at her with that familiar spark of encouragement in his eyes, the one that always made her feel like she could do anything. She’d always loved showing him the new things she learned, eager for his approval and attention. Taking a deep breath, Miray began to dance, moving to an imaginary rhythm only she could hear. Her little feet twirled and glided over the floor as if she were on a grand stage, her whole being lit with joy. She spun, leaped, and moved with a carefree grace that could only belong to a child, and finished her dance with a flourish, a proud smile stretching across her face.

Applause echoed through the room, and she spun around in surprise. There, in the doorway, were all her brothers, clapping for her, each of them wearing expressions filled with pride and amazement. Her cheeks flushed, but her heart swelled at the sight of them. She met each of their gazes, feeling seen and understood in a way that filled her with pure, unbridled happiness.

With a burst of laughter, she ran to them, her heart soaring as they pulled her into a tight hug, all of them laughing and showering her with compliments. That night, as she drifted to sleep, Miray felt surrounded by a warmth she knew was deeper than anything words could express. Maxim and Elijah were her rocks, grounding her in ways she couldn’t put into words, but each of her brothers was an anchor, steady and unwavering. And in that moment, she knew that, no matter what, she would always have a place to belong.

 The pain of the past couldn’t erase the joy she felt now. They were here, her brothers—no one would ever take this away again.

                           Greyson's Pov 

The hum of engines around me was like an unspoken call—a language only some understood. The lights of the city faded here, where things happened in the shadows, where you had to be faster and sharper or you didn’t make it. I leaned back against my car, crossing my arms, watching the crowd with the kind of calm that only came from experience. It was good to be back.

A few familiar faces floated through the sea of racers and onlookers, people who knew better than to bother me. But there was a new crowd too, younger guys puffed up on cheap wins and loud talk. They strutted around like they owned these streets, each one thinking he was the next big thing. I watched, unimpressed, waiting for someone to make a move worth my time.

The air was thick with anticipation. I could hear the buzz of bets being exchanged, the murmurs passing through the crowd as people pointed in my direction. Greyson’s back. Some of them probably thought I’d left the scene for good. After all, it had been a while. But I wasn’t here for them—I had my reasons, and they were my own.

Someone caught my eye—a loudmouth revving his engine, staring me down. I didn’t know him, but he looked the type to think he’d already won. I met his gaze, a smirk pulling at my lips. Confidence was good, but arrogance? That’s how people get hurt. And I’d seen enough people take a fall here to know how that went.

He smirked back, tipping his head in a silent challenge. Well, if he wanted a fight, I’d give him one. Without breaking eye contact, I climbed into my car, shutting out the world until it was just me, the engine, and the street stretched out ahead.

I heard the signal—the sharp whistle cutting through the noise—and then I hit the gas, the car roaring to life as I tore off the line. The city around us blurred, every twist and turn a flash in my peripherals as I pushed harder, faster. The punk was right on my tail, trying to keep up, but I’d been doing this long enough to know exactly when to push, when to brake, when to take a risk he wouldn’t even see coming.

As we hit the final turn, I drifted wide, cutting close enough to a streetlight that I could almost feel the scrape. The guy behind me tried to follow my line, but he was too slow, too inexperienced. I glanced in my mirror just in time to see him swerve, tires skidding, and barely avoid a crash. The crowd roared as I pulled to a stop, the engine growling as I let the adrenaline settle in my veins. Another win, another wad of cash in hand. I didn’t even have to look at the kid I’d just smoked in the race; the money being passed to me was all I needed to know. These rookies never saw it coming.

As I pocketed the cash, I stepped away from the chaos, the shadows swallowing me whole. My heart raced with a thrilling anticipation as I pulled out my phone, scrolling to Maxim’s number. I hit dial, the ringing slicing through the heavy silence like a blade.

When he answered, I leaned against the cool wall, my voice low and deliberate. “Thirsty for some blood?” Each word dripped with menace, a promise of the violence to come. I could almost feel his smirk through the line, dark excitement coursing through him. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

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Hi everyone!
How are you doing? I’m so grateful for your support—we’ve hit 7,000 reads in such a short time, and it means the world to me!

Anyway, this chapter is one of my favorites. I can’t wait to hear what you all think.

And you'all better buckle up for the ride; there’s plenty of drama ahead! 😉