Chapter 3 : the quiet before the storm

The weeks following the gala felt like a long, held breath. The "De Anya-Le Fang" compound had become a fortress of sorts. Aunt Estella had been officially barred from Sunday dinners, and a hush had fallen over the "house by house" neighborhood.

But for Mary Eliza, the silence was louder than the noise.

She spent more time in Yuki’s garage than in her own home. There was something grounding about the smell of oil and the rhythmic clink-clink-clink of a wrench. It was the only place where she didn't have to look at the freshly painted nursery or hear the endless discussions about baby names and pediatricians.

Mateo was under the chassis of his bike, his boots sticking out from beneath the metal frame. "You've been staring at that spark plug for ten minutes, Mary. Either it’s the most interesting piece of metal in the world, or you’re off in Havana again."

Mary Eliza sighed, setting the part down on the workbench. "It’s just quiet, Mateo. Too quiet. Like everyone is walking on eggshells around me because I fainted at the gala. I’m not made of glass."

"Tell that to your dads," Mateo said, scooting out from under the bike. He wiped a streak of grease across his forehead, leaving a dark smudge. "Nico looks like he wants to wrap you in bubble wrap, and Mikael has been researching 'stress-free environments' like it’s his second job."

"I just want things to go back to how they were," she murmured. "Before the 'real' heir was the only thing anyone talked about."

"Well," Mateo said, standing up and dusting off his jeans. "Things aren't going back. They're going forward. But forward doesn't have to be bad. My mom says the best way to handle a change is to be the one driving the car."

He tossed her a set of keys—the keys to the old truck Yuki had let him restore.

"Let's get out of here for a few hours," Mateo suggested. "No compound, no nurseries, no 'heirs.' Just the road."

The Road to the Overlook

They drove toward the cliffs that overlooked the city, the wind whipping through the open windows. For a moment, Mary Eliza felt the "burn" in her chest settle into a steady, warm glow. With Mateo beside her, the world felt manageable. He was the only one who didn't look at her with pity or exaggerated caution.

They reached the lookout point just as the sun began to dip, painting the sky in bruises of purple and gold.

"Do you think he'll be like us?" Mary Eliza asked suddenly, staring out at the distant city lights.

"Who? The intruder?" Mateo joked, referring to the baby.

"The baby," she corrected with a small smile. "Do you think he’ll have the fire? Or will he be... different? What if he’s exactly what the family wants, and I’m just the one who was too 'delicate'?"

Mateo leaned against the hood of the truck, his expression turning serious. "The 'fire' isn't about being perfect, Mary. It’s about being real. And you’re the realest person I know. If that kid has half your heart, he’ll be lucky. But he’s never going to take your spot. I won't let him, and neither will Nico."

Just as Mary was about to respond, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Then Mateo’s phone chimed. Then both of them felt the air shift—that strange, tethered connection they shared with the houses back home.

Mary Eliza pulled out her phone. A single text from Mikael sat on the screen:

It’s time. We’re heading to the hospital. Come home.

The "Quiet Before the Storm" was over. The second child was arriving.

The compound was bathed in the amber glow of the porch lights, but the air felt charged, like the moments right before a lightning strike. Santiago sat on the stone bench, his presence as immovable as the mountains. He held Mary Eliza’s hand, his thumb tracing the line of her knuckles—a silent map of the family history.

"You are worried about your rank," Santiago said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very earth. "You think that when that door opens and a new life steps in, you are pushed further down the line. You think you become second."

Mary Eliza didn't look up, but her silence was an admission.

"Listen to me, mi nieta," Santiago continued, his grip tightening with a surprising, grounding strength. "In this family, we have many names and many titles. But to me—and to the soul of this family—you and Mateo hold the highest rank. You are the 'Firsts.' You are the ones who taught your parents how to love someone more than themselves."

He looked toward the dark windows of the main house.

"You remind me of your grandmother," he murmured. "She wasn't the 'heir' people expected either. Her brothers were loud, and the world looked at them as the future. But your grandmother... she had a fire that didn't scream. It glowed. When the family faced its darkest winters, it wasn't the 'loud' ones who kept us warm. It was her. She held the keys because she was the only one strong enough to carry the weight without complaining. She was the anchor. Just like you."

The heavy oak door of the main house swung open, and the light from the foyer spilled out onto the driveway. Nico stood there, leaning slightly against the doorframe. He looked small in his heavy coat, his face pale and etched with the exhaustion of the last few hours.

He didn't look at Santiago. He didn't look at the car waiting with its engine humming. His eyes landed on Mary Eliza, and they filled with a desperate, raw honesty.

"Mary?" Nico called out, his voice cracking. "The car is ready. Mikael is waiting."

He took a shaky step toward her, his hand resting on his stomach as if to steady the world. "I... I’m not leaving without you. I can’t do this if my firstborn isn’t with me. I need your fire, Mary. Please."

The "burn" in Mary Eliza’s chest—the one that had felt so bitter at the gala—suddenly turned into a steady, radiant heat. She wasn't a placeholder. She was the person her father needed to survive the night.

She stood up, giving Santiago’s hand one last squeeze. He gave her a slow, knowing nod.

"Go," Santiago whispered. "Show them the rank of a De Anya firstborn."

Mary Eliza ran to Nico’s side, catching him by the arm. He leaned into her, his head resting against hers for a fleeting second, drawing strength from the girl who had started it all.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***