Bonds

Maya's POV-

The silence that followed my confession stretched on for an eternity. It was a deafening quiet, broken only by the soft rasp of my mother's breath and the frantic hammering of my own heart. Ivan's face was a canvas of emotions- confusion, hurt, disbelief- flitting across his features se quickly I couldn't keep track. Then, a realization dawned on me, chilling and stark. He truly hadn't known.

The dam within me had burst, and the words tumbled out and I couldn't control. "My father didn't want you to know," I rushed out, my voice raw with a mixture of guilt and desperation. "He erased every trace of it. Alex and I... We were married for three years. We were mates. Then, he rejected me. I was pregnant with ivy and Nate, but he didn't know. He still doesn't. And it's going to stay that way. Ivan, I just... I just don't want to keep lying to you anymore."

He remained silent, his gaze locked on mine, his expression unreadable. It was torture, that silence, each passing second stretching into an agonizing eternity. "Please," I pleaded, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Say something. Anything"

Finally, he shook his head slowly, as if trying to clear his thoughts. "The woman I married... was married before? Not just to anyone, but to Alex Thorne? Who happens to be my little sister's fiancé?" His voice was a low rumble, laced with disbelief.

The mention of Miranda jolted me back to the present. A flicker of apprehension crossed my face.

He studied me for a long moment, his brow furrowed in concentration. "What else do I need to know?" He asked, "Because I can tell there's more from that look."

"There is. I, uhm, kind of attacked her at a bar. And you may have... beaten her up."

Instead of the anger I expected, he surprised me when a wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Someone finally did it," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I have a list of people who've been dying to see her get what's coming to her."

My jaw dropped. "You're not... mad?"

He let out a long sigh. "I don't know what to feel. Regarding Miranda, well I know she had it coming. She takes pleasure in annoying people. Someone finally cracked. I'm surprised she hasn't called me yet to cuss you out," then he let out a sigh, "And then Alex. I don't know but the thought that you and him... Amaya, this is a lot to take in."

"It's over," I said with conviction. "Whatever happened in the past is staying buried. And I promise you, that's where it will stay, I don't want to live with you anymore, Ivan. Like Natalia said, I need a fresh start, and I want you to be a part of that fresh start. No one else."

A wave of relief washed over his face, followed by that familiar boyish grin that always made me tingle, "You really mean that?"

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"Yes," I said, meeting his gaze head on. "And I know my father already had my things moved to your apartment. Even though I'm pretty ticked off that you didn't ask me first, I'll happily move in with you."

A chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, that was about to be my next question. Considering the situation here..." he trailed off, gesturing towards the chaotic state of the house.

"Exactly," I said, a small smile playing on my lips. "A fresh start indeed."Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Gently, I shifted away from the couch, careful not to disturb my mother's slumber. The silence of the house felt heavy again, punctuated only by her soft breaths. I placed a fluffy pillow under her head, tucking the edges in for good measure Moving towards him, I wasn't sure what exactly I should do but he cut out my thinking process when he wrapped his hands around me, pulling me close. He buried his head in my hair, taking so whiff, "Everything about you is just so perfect and I really want this to work and I'm sorry I didn't ask you first about moving your things. I guess I was kind of mad at you but I really I'm sorry."

Slope 28

A small smille tugged at the corner of my lips as he let me go looking into my eyes. "Well, as you can see," I gestured towards the overall state of the house, "I don't exactly have many options right now so I guess I can't really be mad,"

"True," a thoughtful look crossing his face. "But are you sure that's what you really want?"

I met his gaze head-on. "Yes," I said, my voice firm. "This whole mess, it's made me realize a lot of things. I don't want to live a lie anymore, Ivan. Not with you, not with anyone. And the truth is... I want this to work. I want us to work."

He reached out, his hand gently cupping my cheek. "Me too, Amaya," he said, his voice sincere. "More than anything. But it won't be easy. There's a lot to unpack, a lot to figure out."

"I know," I said, squeezing his hand. "My past is... complicated, to say the least. And your sister... well, let's just say things could get awkward at family gatherings."

He let out a humorless laugh. "Awkward? Try nuclear meltdown."

I winced. "Right. Maybe we can avoid family gatherings for a while."

A smile spread across his face. "We can definitely talk about that. But seriously, I'm willing to try. We're both willing to try, right?"

"Absolutely," I said, returning his smile. "We take things one step at a time.

A harsh buzzing sound cut through the tender moment, shattering the fragile peace. He pulled out his phone, his brow furrowing as he checked the screen. "It's a friend," he said, his voice apologetic. "He might know something about your father's case. I need to take this."

I sighed, "Of course, I mumbled, the weight of the situation settling back on my shoulders. "Go ahead."

He gave me a quick squeeze before moving away, his phone pressed to his car as he walked towards the window. Straining to hear him over the low murmur of his conversation. My gaze drifted to my mother, still fast asleep on the couch. A sliver of guilt prickd at me. I knew she had never really tried to be a mother. Just a trophy wife to my father but maybe I could have tried to be a better daughter.

"Yeah, I'm here," Ivan's voice rose slightly, his tone tense distracting me. He paused for a moment, listening intently. "A lead? Are you sure this guy's reliable?" Another pause, punctuated by a few short, clipped responses.

My curiosity piqued. A lead? Could this be the break they needed to clear my father's name? I inched closer, hoping to catch a snippet of the conversation, but he kept his voice low, his back turned towards me.

Finally, he ended the call with a curt "Thanks, I appreciate it," and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Turning around, he met my gaze, a mixture of emotions swirling in his eyes.

"There might be something. My friend knows someone who used to work with your father. He's willing to meet with us tomorrow, but he wants to keep it discreet."

"Discreet?" echoed, apprehension creeping into my voice. "Why?"

He hesitated for a moment, then ran a hand through his hair. "He thinks there might be more to your father's case than the FBI is letting on. He says there could be...some powerful people involved."

"So, what do we do?"

"We tread carefully," He replied, his jaw clenched tight. "This friend of mine, let's call him Xuri, wants to meet in a neutral location. Somewhere the feds wouldn't think to look."

"Neutral location?" My

17" My stomach chumed. "Like what?"

stumble upon us there."

Haunted? The last thing I needed was to add phosts to the ever-growing list of problems. But the thought of getting some answers outweighed my fear.

"Alright. Let's do it. When?"

"Tomorrow night," His eyes locked on mine, "But Amaya, before we dive al headfirst into some potential mob hangout, there's something you need to

know."

He paused, his expression unreadable. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the sudden silence.

"What is it?" I asked, a tremor in my voice.

Ivan leaned closer, "Being Alphas...

Leaders of packs isn't easy and e

sometimes to stay in charge, you might need to get your hands dirty and I'm not innocent of it. I just want you to know that your father isn't innocent of this either."

The blood drained from my face. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, a loud rapping echoed at the front door, shattering the already fragile calm.

We exchanged a startled glance, the weight of the unknown settling on our shoulders.

Who could be here at this hour, and what did they want?