Trust was a dangerous thing.

She had trusted Aerius, and he had ruined her.

She had trusted Vincent, and he had shattered her.

She wasn't about to make that mistake again.

The only thing she cared about now was Aezvan.

If these men—these so-called brothers—thought they could win her over with soft words and kindness, they were wrong.

She wouldn't fall for it.

Not again.

She tried to understand their reason of playing this game. It doesn't even make sense.

Why were these men—these dangerous men—hell-bent on proving they were her brothers?

What did they want?

What was the game they were playing?

And most importantly... what would they get out of it?

.

.

Haven watched Rafael from the corner of her eye.

He sat across from her in the library, flipping through a book he probably wasn't even reading. He had been sitting there for nearly an hour, saying nothing.

She didn't understand him.

He wasn't like Vincent, who manipulated her with words and false affections.

He wasn't like Aerius , who bound her to him through control and force.

Rafael was just... there.

Existing.

It was unsettling.

She snapped the book shut, making a deliberate noise to break the silence. Rafael didn't even look up.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

Now he looked up, raising an eyebrow. "I live here, sorellina."

She scowled. "That's not what I meant."

Rafael smirked but didn't push. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, looking at her like he could see straight through her.

"Alright," he said, tilting his head. "Tell me, what do you think we're doing?"

Haven crossed her arms. "I think you're playing a game."

His smirk faded slightly. "And what exactly would we gain from that?"

She hesitated. "I don't know. Yet. But people don't just give without expecting something in return."

Rafael sighed, rubbing his jaw. "Has no one ever done something for you without wanting something back?"

Haven blinked. Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Aezvan did .

He always had, always sacrificed for her but that's because he is her brother but so is Aerius.

She shook her head, Aerius was an ugly scar.. he had tainted a very pure relationship.

Aezvan on the other hand was still suffering just to protect her. She wasn't sure if the brothers knew about him, and if they didn't she didn't want them to know about him, what if they also hurt him to blackmail her just how vincent had planned.

And Rafael assumed the answer in her silence.

His expression hardened. "We don't want anything from you, Haven. We just want you to know that you're not alone."

She scoffed, forcing herself to look away. "Yeah? And what if I don't believe you?"

Rafael leaned forward, his voice dropping slightly. "Then we'll keep proving it."

She hated how her chest tightened at that.

She hated how he was fighting to stay.

She hated everyone.... Every one was such a good actor and they were trying their best to fool her.

Rafael watched her, waiting.

Waiting for what? A breakdown? A sobbed confession that she finally believed him?

Haven scoffed.

She remembered looking at the DNA report in her hands. The supposed proof. The undeniable truth.

But truth meant nothing to her anymore.

Lies could be printed on paper just as easily.

She tossed her thoughts aside, her voice dripping with bitter amusement. "And I'm supposed to believe you and that stupid report?"

Rafael's jaw clenched. "It's not a trick, sorelina."

"Of course it isn't," she mocked. "You expect me to believe that after all this time, after everything, I suddenly have five brothers who want to protect me?"

Rafael said nothing.

She took a slow step toward him, tilting her head. "Tell me, what do you really want?"

He exhaled through his nose. "We want you to know the truth."

"The truth," she repeated, laughing hollowly. "That's a funny word. Because the last people I trusted—they told me the truth too. And look how that turned out."

Rafael didn't flinch. "We're not them."

Her smile was cold. "No, you're worse."

He tensed. "How do you figure?"

"Because you're playing the long game," she said, eyes narrowing. "You're patient. You'll wait for me to lower my guard, make me think I'm safe. Then, when I finally trust you—you'll rip the ground from under me just like they did."

Rafael's grip tightened on the armrest of the chair.

Haven stepped back, crossing her arms. "I don't trust you. I don't trust anyone. And if you think I'm going to fall for whatever game you're playing, you're dead wrong. You will be just wasting your time"

Rafael studied her for a long moment. Then, he slowly stood.

"Good," he said, voice even.

Haven frowned. "...What?"

He met her glare with a calm intensity. "You shouldn't trust us. Not yet."

That... was not the response she expected.

"You think we want you to fall into our arms and call us family overnight?" Rafael scoffed. "No. That's not how this works."

Haven swallowed, suddenly unsure.

"We're not asking for blind trust," he continued. "You don't owe us anything. You don't even have to like us." He took a slow step forward. "But whether you accept it or not, we are your blood."

She hated how her stomach twisted at those words.

Rafael's voice dropped lower. "And whether you trust us or not, we will protect you. Even from yourself."

Haven clenched her jaw. "I don't need your protection."

Rafael smirked, but it wasn't mocking—it was knowing. "You don't get a choice, sorellina."

Haven exhaled sharply, hands curling into fists.

This was going to be a war.

But Rafael didn't look concerned.

No, he looked like a man ready to wait.

And somehow, that made him more dangerous than Aerius and Vincent combined.

.

.

.

It had been a week.

A week since Haven was taken from him.

A week since his world flipped on its axis.

A week since the wedding night that never happened.

Vincent sat in his dimly lit study, his jaw locked, fingers pressed against his temples as his mind raced. The room was in ruins—papers shredded, furniture overturned, glass shattered. His once-immaculate desk now lay in pieces, a testament to his uncontrolled rage.

His men—his most loyal men—had searched everywhere.

Nothing.

Not a single goddamn lead.

Haven was gone.

And Aerius—the man who should have been rotting in his dungeon—had vanished too.

Vincent knew one thing for certain—Aerius hadn't done this alone.

The escape had been too clean, too precise. Aerius was many things, but he wasn't invisible. Someone had helped him.

Someone had taken his woman.

Someone had taken his prisoner.

And that meant war.

His mind replayed that damn night over and over again, searching for what he had missed.

It had happened too fast.

He remembered standing before Haven, watching her fight him, watching her reject him.

Then—nothing.

Darkness.

A tranquilizer.

And that meant—there was another player in the game.

Who the fuck was that man?

His first suspicion had been the Sinisters.

They were his only true enemies, the ones lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

But that thought didn't sit right.

If the Sinisters had done this, they would have made it known.

They would have rubbed it in his face.

But instead—there had been nothing.

No threats. No demands. No warnings.

Just silence.

And Vincent hated silence.

His fingers dug into the armrest of his chair, his grip unforgiving.

Someone out there thought they could take her from him.

Someone out there thought they could steal his queen.

Vincent's teeth clenched, his vision darkening.

They were wrong.

Haven was his.

His wife. His queen. His Eva.

And the second he got her back, he would lock her away.

She would never step out of their room again.

No one would touch her. No one would see her. No one would dare come between them.

She would be his.

Completely.

Vincent reached for the glass of whiskey on his desk and threw it against the wall, watching as it shattered into a thousand pieces.

His men flinched but didn't dare move.

A heavy silence stretched through the room before Vincent finally spoke, his voice cold, emotionless.

"Search Aerius' old places."

His men hesitated for a fraction of a second.

"We've already—"

The way Vincent's gaze snapped to them was enough.

One of the men swallowed thickly and nodded. "Right away, Boss."

Vincent watched as they scattered like rats, leaving him alone with the silence.

His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths.

But inside?

Inside, he was seething.

Because whoever took her—

They had just made their gravest mistake.

Hope you liked the chapter ❤️