Chapter 5 - My Mother Tried to Take the Boys From Me—But the Moment She Called Them “Heirs,” I Knew Exactly Why My Family Had Stolen Six YearsThe apartment doors opened.
Security moved in.
My mother stood behind them.
Elegant.
Calm.
Perfect.
She hadn't changed.
“Adrian.”
I stared.
“You lied.”
She looked at Mara.
“She told you?”
“No.”
She looked at the boys.
“Come with Grandma.”
Milo stepped back.
“No.”
My mother frowned.
“Don't be difficult.”
I moved between them.
“You're not taking my sons.”
She sighed.
“They aren't yours alone.”
I almost laughed.
“They absolutely are.”
She lowered her voice.
“You don't understand what they represent.”
“I understand enough.”
She looked at Mara.
“You were supposed to disappear.”
Mara stepped forward.
“You were supposed to let my children live.”
My mother's expression changed.
“You don't understand the consequences.”
“Of what?”
“Of blood.”
I stared.
“There it is.”
She looked at me.
“You've always been emotional.”
“No.”
I smiled.
“I'm finally paying attention.”
She said something that changed everything.
“Your grandfather needs the firstborn.”
I felt cold.
“Why?”
“He has the key.”
Milo looked frightened.
I held him closer.
“You're not taking him.”
My mother looked at the other boys.
“They're collateral.”
My blood boiled.
“They're children.”
“They are Morettis.”
“They are my sons.”
She lowered her head.
“Your father would understand.”
“My father is dead.”
She smiled.
“Is he?”
Another family member who was supposedly dead.
The lies were endless.
Then the apartment windows shattered.
Gunfire.
My mother ducked.
Security responded.
We moved the children through the back corridor.
Mara took Micah.
I carried Mason.
Max held Noah's hand.
Milo stayed beside me.
We escaped.
When we reached the safe house, Mara looked at me.
“You need to choose.”
“Choose what?”
“Your family or your empire.”
I stared.
“That isn't a choice.”
May you like
She smiled sadly.
“That's what your family never understood.”
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