7 more chapters to go ❤️

Izrael stood still for a moment, his hands clenched into tight fists, his body trembling with barely contained rage. The silence that followed Haven's confession was suffocating, an unbearable weight pressing down on all of them.

Then, without a word, Izrael turned on his heel and stormed toward the door.

"Izrael," Lucifer called, his voice sharp with authority.

"He dies tonight." Izrael's voice was venomous, his eyes wild with fury. "I'll rip him apart with my bare hands."

"Izrael, stay back." Lucifer's command was firm, unwavering.

"Stay back?" Izrael growled, his entire body shaking. "That monster touched her! He hurt her since she was thirteen! And you want me to stay back?"

Saying that he stormed out of the hospital room.

Lucifer exhaled, his jaw tightening. "Michael. Gabriel."

Without hesitation, Michael and Gabriel moved, following their elder brother.

"Iz, you need to breathe," Gabriel said, though his own voice was thick with rage.

"Don't tell me to breathe, Gabe." Izrael's voice cracked. "You think I can just let this go?"

"No one is letting it go." Michael's voice was steel. "But you can't go after Aerius now. You will just kill him and that bastard deserves everything but death"

"Death would a mercy from me and he is not getting any tonight" Izrael seethed and left.

Lucifer turned his gaze to Haven, who had cried herself to sleep in his arms. His hand moved to gently stroke her hair. Rafael, standing beside him, looked down at their broken little sister, his jaw clenched.

"She's right," Rafael murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "We shouldn't have left her just like that. I keep thinking... what if ... what if we had never found her?"

Lucifer's grip on Haven tightened slightly. "We did find her," he said, his voice raw. "And we will fix this."

Fix this?" Rafael let out a bitter laugh. "How do you fix all those years that she spent in that hell?"

Lucifer didn't hesitate this time. His voice was steady, unwavering. "We can't fix her past, but we can make sure she doesn't suffer anymore... not in the present, not in the future." His gaze darkened with resolve. "Ask Ares to be back and meet me. No more targeting the pawns—it's time to take them down."

Rafael looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "You think going away from our plan would be okay?"

Lucifer nodded, his expression unreadable. "It's no longer about revenge anymore. It's about making her feel safe and secure. I don't want anyone who has hurt her alive."

Few Days later

The morning light filtered through the hospital room, casting a soft glow over the space. Haven sat propped up against the pillows, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the blanket. Her body still ached, but the pain had dulled to a manageable throb.

Rafael sat beside her, holding a plate of food. His sharp, expectant gaze locked onto her as he lifted a spoonful toward her lips. "Eat."

Haven wrinkled her nose, shifting slightly. "No."

Rafael exhaled slowly, clearly expecting this battle. "You haven't eaten properly in days, Haven. Just eat."

"I can feed myself."

"I don't trust you to," he said flatly, bringing the spoon closer. "Come on. One bite."

Haven folded her arms stubbornly, but ultimately, she sighed and leaned forward, taking the bite. She chewed slowly, her glare fixed on Rafael like he had just personally betrayed her.

Rafael smirked. "Was that so hard?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I hate you."

"You love me."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

Haven huffed but didn't argue further, sinking back into the pillows. Despite everything, their presence—especially Lucifer's and Rafael's—felt grounding in a way she hadn't expected.

Across the room, Lucifer sat with his laptop, fingers moving effortlessly over the keyboard. He hadn't spoken much, but she knew he was listening. Every few minutes, his sharp gaze flickered toward her, assessing, ensuring.

Haven hesitated before speaking. "Rafael?"

"Hm?"

"Where are the others?"

Rafael tilted his head slightly. "They had a meeting."

"A mafia meeting?" she teased.

Rafael chuckled. "Give your brain some rest. No, just a business meeting."

"Oh?" She perked up slightly. "And what kind of business do you own?"

"A lot of them," Rafael replied vaguely. Then, with a smirk, he added, "And someday, you'll get to run them too."

Haven blinked. "Me?"

"Yes, you," Lucifer finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the room. He stood, walking toward her. "But for now, no more questions. Take your medicine."

Haven groaned, taking the pills reluctantly. She hesitated before glancing at them both with pleading eyes. "Can I skip a few?"

Lucifer arched a brow, amused.

Rafael, on the other hand, leaned forward with a grin. "Try it, and I'll personally make sure you take double tomorrow."

She shot him a glare before looking up at Lucifer. "Lucifer, please—"

His expression softened slightly as he sat on the edge of her bed. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb stroking lightly over her skin. "Call me Luce, and no, you're not skipping any."

She exhaled dramatically. "Fineeee, Luce."

Lucifer chuckled. "That's better."

"Good girl" Rafael added, reaching over to ruffle her hair, earning a half-hearted swat from her. Lucifer, however, simply pressed a brief kiss to her forehead. Haven stilled at the warmth of it, her heart sighing in quiet peace.

As she shifted, her gaze caught on a familiar locket hanging from Lucifer's neck. The delicate silver glinted under the soft light, drawing her in. Without thinking, her fingers reached out, brushing over the cool metal, tracing the intricate edges.

"I have the same locket," she murmured.

Lucifer's lips quirked with something almost wistful. "I know. I put it on you myself when you were born." He unclasped his own and held it out to her. "This one belonged to our mama. The one you have... belonged to papa."

Her breath hitched surprised as he opened it, she never new it could open too. It had a small photograph inside—a man and a woman, their faces regal yet warm, eyes filled with stories she'd never known.

Haven's fingers trembled as she traced the image. "They... they're beautiful."

Lucifer's voice softened. "That's mama and papa."

A lump formed in her throat. The man—her father—had the same eyes as her. The woman/ her mother had the same delicate features.

Rafael's voice was quieter this time. "You look like mama."

Haven swallowed thickly. She did.

Lucifer's brows furrowed slightly. "What is it?"

"My locket..." She exhaled shakily. "It's in Aerius' mansion. In my room's drawer."

Lucifer's fingers threaded through her hair in silent reassurance. "We'll get it back," he promised. His tone was quiet, but there was no hesitation, no doubt.

---

The room was silent, thick with tension, save for the ragged breaths of the ten men standing before Vincent. His face twisted in barely restrained fury, eyes like burning embers as he took slow, measured steps down the line of trembling men.

"You incompetent fools," he hissed, his voice deceptively calm. "Weeks... and you still can't find a single thing?"

The men flinched, their eyes darting between each other, but none dared to speak. Until one, hands shaking, stepped forward.

"I... I found something, sir. Aezvan—"

Vincent's gaze snapped to him. "And?"

The man hesitated, swallowing thickly before extending his hand. Something small and metallic rested in his palm. A piece of jewelry.

Vincent's expression darkened. His fingers curled into fists as he snatched the object, inspecting it with cold disinterest. His lips curled into a sneer.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" His voice was deathly quiet. Then—BANG.

The man crumpled to the floor, blood pooling beneath him. The others stiffened, their breath caught in their throats, waiting, dreading.

Vincent tossed the jewelry aside in disgust, turning back toward his desk. But then—something made him stop.

The smallest detail. A flicker of familiarity.

Slowly, he turned, his eyes narrowing as they settled on the discarded jewelry. His steps were unhurried, deliberate, as he bent down and picked it up again, his fingers brushing over the metal surface. This time, he truly looked.

A locket.

A locket with a picture inside.

His breath hitched.

He moved swiftly, reaching into his desk drawer, pulling out an old photo frame. Dust clung to the edges, but the image inside was pristine, untouched by time.

His gaze flickered between the locket and the photograph.

And then—everything clicked.

The same woman.

His lips parted, his grip tightening around the locket as a slow, sinister smile spread across his face.

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, low and eerie, before twisting into something unhinged, something manic. His laughter filled the room, hollow and cruel, sending a shiver down the spines of the men who still stood frozen before him.

"Now I know..." he whispered, his voice drenched in twisted amusement. "Now I know why you resemble her so much, my dear wife."

His fingers traced the face in the photograph, his eyes gleaming with madness.

"Because you are her blood. Her daughter."

(In chapter 12 it was mentioned that Vincent takes a photo frame out and says she reminds me of you ")