Under the sunlight, the backyard stretched out in silence, broken only by the laughter of two children running through the grass.

The older one stopped suddenly.

His toy was in the younger one’s hand.

His shoulders stiffened. His fist clenched, and his quick steps outran his thinking.

He yanked the toy away violently. The younger child stepped back without crying.

He spoke in a low but cutting voice:

“Never try to take what’s mine (….) you were born for me.”

The younger one lifted his head. His eyes widened—not with surprise, but with recognition.

He knows the rule.

He has always known it.

He looked at his empty hand.

He didn’t take the toy.

The older one is the one who left it there.

...----------------...

She yawned and stretched her arms with fatigue. She had just finished writing the report after four continuous hours.

Even with sorting and editing accounted for, this piece of news had taken three full days.

She sat for a moment, grateful that she wasn’t a detective—the task would have been far more difficult if she were. Here, she only organized the facts and sent them to the studio, despite her intense curiosity, which her strict boss had forbidden her to act on:

“Elenora, just work with what you have. Don’t try to play around—you have no idea how dangerous this is. We’re not playing here.”

She smiled quietly to herself, remembering the time Samuel, the chief investigator, had praised her work and invited her to lunch.

She sighed dreamily—how handsome he had been that day.

But the memory didn’t last long. A small family was waiting for her at home, and her phone was ringing on the desk, reminding her to return.

She returned home after a brief stop at the grocery store, carrying treats for her sweet younger brothers, Erin and Arian. She smiled to herself, remembering how the sense of loneliness that had shadowed her entire life had faded. Her parents had been busy with work, trying to avoid problems after her mother had developed infertility following her birth.

For a long time, she had been the only child, and the lack of family closeness had made her seek small bonds to fill the void. Years later, her mother gave birth to twins, Erin and Arian, fulfilling her father’s wish for a male heir—though he didn’t live long afterward, passing away just two years later. She hadn’t been close to him, and her regret over the few memories she had of him continued to haunt her.

From that time on, she began to grow closer to her mother, trying to make up for what they had both missed, finding in this relationship support and comfort, no matter how busy and demanding life became.

...----------------...

He removed his blood-stained glove with disgust, but his assistant intervened before it touched the floor, snatching it up quickly and placing it in a bag. He understood what every second of delay could mean—any trace left here could cause problems.

He spoke through a hiss, his hatred and anger filling the room:

“Javier has escaped again… how long will this continue!”

Zayn thought deeply, puzzled. Every time, Javier managed to slip away at the last moment.

This wasn’t just luck—something was happening behind the scenes.

He looked at his master’s back, weighing his options. It was impossible for the boss not to notice what was going on… but why hadn’t he ordered action yet?

Enjoy the first chapter, darlings! I'm not sure when I'll be free to write the rest,, but I've been planning it for a long time and don't want to postpone it any longer...

Don't forget to like it if you enjoyed my work. Thanks ♡!.