Kate's POV:

Guards surrounded the house, their stoic faces a constant reminder of the danger lurking outside. It felt like a prison, but I couldn't bring myself to care. My mind was elsewhere—on Lucio. My heart ached with every minute that passed without news. Emily, Kay, and I sat together in the bedroom, the silence pressing down on us like a weight. No one dared to speak; the uncertainty was too much.

I couldn't take it anymore. My legs carried me back and forth across the room in restless pacing, my hands fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. Suddenly, the door burst open. Emerald, ever ready, whipped out her gun, but it was only Michen.

His face was pale, his usual sharp demeanor replaced with something that terrified me. Sadness. He didn't need to say anything; the look in his eyes said it all. My knees gave out, and I crumpled to the floor, tears spilling over uncontrollably.

"He promised me," I whispered, then screamed. "He promised me he'd be back!"

I grabbed at Michen's shirt, shaking him, demanding answers, but he couldn't look me in the eye. His silence was deafening, his stillness breaking me further.

"Michen, where's my brother?" Emily's voice cracked as she demanded an answer, her hands trembling.

He gave her a weak smile, shaking his head. "He's alive... but barely," he muttered.

The door creaked open again, and a new figure stepped in—a woman with a striking resemblance to Lucio. Emerald gasped and ran to her, pulling her into a hug.

"Hasley! You're alive! Oh my God, I thought I'd never see you again!" She cried, her voice thick with emotion.

Hasley. Lucio's sister. I'd heard of her but never thought I'd meet her. She turned her attention to me, her gaze softening as she noticed my swollen belly.

"You must be Kate," she said, stepping toward me. "Lucio talked about you. He wanted me to take care of you if anything happened. I'm sorry someone had to tell you like this, but if it wasn't for you... I wouldn't be here." She hugged me gently, pausing to chuckle when her hands brushed my stomach.

"Where's Lucio?" I asked, the words escaping in a whisper.

Her smile faded, and she glanced at Michen. "He's downstairs," she said softly.

My legs moved on their own, carrying me out of the room and down the stairs. I ignored the voices calling after me, pushing open the door to Lucio's old room. My breath caught in my throat at the sight before me.

Lucio lay on the bed, wires and machines hooked to him, his strong, commanding presence replaced by this fragile, motionless figure. My hands flew to my mouth as tears blurred my vision.

I staggered to his side, placing my hands on his cheeks, shaking him gently. "Lucio, wake up," I pleaded, my voice cracking. "You promised me you'd come back. You can't leave me... not like this."

Michen's voice broke through the haze. "He's in a coma," he said, his tone heavy. "I'm sorry, Kate."

I screamed, the pain in my chest overwhelming. "You promised me!" I shouted, the tears pouring freely now. "You can't leave me, Lucio. I need you. Our baby needs you."

My hands moved instinctively to my belly as the baby kicked. Forcing a watery smile, I took Lucio's limp hand and placed it on my stomach. "Feel that? That's your baby, Lucio. Your family. We're waiting for you. You have to come back to us."

Michen placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, but I pulled away. The emotions were too raw, too much. I turned to look at Lucio one last time before heading upstairs to try and sleep.

The cold shower didn't help numb the pain. Every thought circled back to Lucio—his smile, his voice, the way he'd promised me everything would be okay. Now I wasn't sure if he'd ever keep that promise.

As I lay in bed, my hand resting on my belly, I whispered into the quiet, "Please wake up, Lucio. Please. We need you."

Sleep eventually claimed me, but even in my dreams, the pain lingered. The thought of raising our child without him was too much to bear. I just hoped he would wake up in time to see the life we'd created together, to be the man I knew he wanted to be—for me, for us, for our family.

Hasley's POV:

Being home was surreal. Even though my heart ached for Lucio, seeing him lifeless in that hospital bed, hooked to machines, I couldn't ignore the faint hope that he was still fighting. My baby brother, the stubborn one. If anyone could come back from something like this, it was Lucio.

And yet, the weight of what I knew, of what I'd kept hidden, pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket. I needed to tell him about Dad. About how he wasn't dead. About how they faked his death to take over the mafia, to shatter our family. But how do you tell someone something like that, especially when they're in a coma?

I wandered through the house, the familiarity both comforting and haunting. Memories of Carl's cruelty clawed at me, dragging me back to the years I was imprisoned. The beatings. The starvation. The nights I thought I'd never make it out alive. The bruises on my skin had long faded, but the scars on my soul lingered.

I shook my head, forcing myself back to the present. I couldn't let those memories consume me. I walked into my old bedroom and stopped short. The walls were covered in my letters—the ones I'd written in desperation, hoping they'd reach Lucio. I'd embedded clues in them, praying someone would figure them out.

My photo was still there, right beside the one of our family. I ran my fingers over Dad's face, a lump forming in my throat. Papa, I'll find you. I promise.

I freshened up and made my way to the kitchen, my stomach growling loudly. The sound startled me, and I chuckled despite myself. Opening the fridge, my eyes landed on a tub of ice cream. Perfect. But just as I grabbed it, Kate appeared out of nowhere, her eyes wide with horror.

"Don't even think about it," she warned, her tone dead serious.

I couldn't help but laugh. The way she moved so quickly, almost protectively, toward the ice cream was impressive.

"Relax, Mama Bear," I teased, holding my hands up in mock surrender. "I wasn't going to eat it."

She rolled her eyes but smirked. "We'll eat it later. Right now, I'm starving. Let's make pancakes."

"At this hour?" I raised an eyebrow, but she was already pulling out the mix.

"Food is food," she said matter-of-factly. "It's pancakes or gross takeout. You decide."

I grimaced at the memory of our last takeout order. Roaches in the food. Never again. "Pancakes it is," I agreed.

We whipped up a batch together, laughing over small things. It was strange but nice to have a moment of normalcy amidst all the chaos. Kate seemed lighter, even with everything she was going through. But then, that was her strength. She carried burdens with a grace I envied.

As we sat at the table, the guys trickled in, eyeing our midnight snack with raised eyebrows. Steven grabbed a plate and smirked. "Late-night cravings, ladies?"

Kate rolled her eyes but didn't respond. I just shook my head. They shrugged and joined us, the room filling with casual chatter and the clinking of plates.

Once I finished eating, I headed back to the kitchen to put away the dishes. That's when I saw him.

Caleb.

The air seemed to thicken around me as I froze. It had been five years since I'd last seen him, five years since I'd sworn to never think about him again. And yet, here he was, standing casually by the sink as if no time had passed.

I tried to walk past him, to pretend he wasn't there, but he grabbed my wrist, his grip firm but not harsh. My heart raced, and I hated it. Hated how my body still reacted to him after everything.

"Let go, Caleb," I said coldly, avoiding his gaze.

He didn't release me. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "Hasley, you're going to stop running from me and let me talk."

I glared at him. "I don't want to hear it."

"Too bad." His voice was sharp, commanding, and damn it, it still sent shivers down my spine.

Before I could protest, his lips crashed onto mine. The kiss was demanding, unrelenting, and when I didn't respond, his hands slid down to my waist, squeezing lightly. A traitorous moan escaped me, and I hated myself for it.

I pushed him away, my chest heaving as I glared at him. "What the hell, Caleb?"

"You're still mine, Hasley," he said, his voice low, his eyes burning with intensity. "You can fight it all you want, but you know it's true."

I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came out. Because deep down, I knew he was right. And that terrified me.

"I can't do this right now," I muttered, storming out of the kitchen. My heart was pounding, my mind racing. What was I supposed to do? How could I even think about Caleb when Lucio was fighting for his life upstairs?

I climbed the stairs, pausing at Lucio's door. The sound of the machines filled the quiet, their steady rhythm both comforting and haunting. I stepped inside, sitting beside him and taking his hand in mine.

"You're going to wake up, little brother," I whispered. "Because you don't get to leave us. You don't get to leave her." My free hand rested on his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin. "And when you do, I'll tell you everything. About Dad. About Carl. About Caleb. You just have to come back."

Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. Not now. Not when Lucio needed strength. I pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving the room.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.