Selene's Pov
Later that evening, I curled my legs under me on the plush sofa of Mira and Amara's apartment. A mug of coffee sat untouched in my hand as I tried to explain, word by word, what had happened that morning.
"She just… showed up," I said finally, watching their eyes widen in disbelief. "Right at our door. With a smile like she was still relevant."
Mira blinked at me. "You're joking."
"I wish," I muttered. "She literally said she came for 'closure.' Like she deserved it."
Amara scoffed. "Closure my ass. Sounds like she came to stir the pot. Or maybe sniff around and see if Antonio was still available."
"She even said I was 'lovely,'" I added, rolling my eyes. "In that overly sweet, fake-friend tone. You know the one."
"Oh, she would," Mira said, slamming her coffee down. "She always had that weird smugness. I never liked her."
"You met her?" I asked, surprised.
Amara snorted. "Once. It was enough. We met her once, remember? That time we visited Antonio at his old school before he transferred to ours. She was hanging off his arm like some prize ribbon at a horse race."
"She looked at us like we were the competition," Mira added with a bitter laugh. "As if she even stood a chance."
"And now she comes crawling back when Antonio's life is blooming?" Amara shook her head. "Classic move. Let me guess— she noticed the house, the success, the headlines about A.S. Entrepreneurs?"
"And you," Mira said with a wink at me. "The biggest win of his life."
I flushed. "Okay, calm down."
"Nope," Amara said, raising her mug like a toast. "She's a bitch. And you're his queen. End of story."
"I just… I felt a little rattled. Even though I know where we stand. She's the past."
Mira leaned forward and grabbed my hand. "She's a glitch in the story. An error. You're the whole damn plot."
I couldn't help but laugh. "That was dramatic."
"Thank you, I've been practicing," she said with a playful bow.
We all fell into giggles, the tension from earlier dissolving in the warmth of sisterhood and shared coffee.
"And honestly?" Amara added with a smirk. "You should've invited us over while she was still there. We would've roasted her with class."
"Oh, absolutely," Mira said. "She'd never recover."
I shook my head, smiling. "Well, I didn't need to. Antonio shut it down himself. Told her he built his life without her — and with me."
The twins grinned like proud wolves.
"Damn right he did," Amara said.
"That's our brother," Mira added with pride. "And you, Selene? You're ours now too."
And with that, I realized — not for the first time — that the real gain in loving Antonio wasn't just him, but the fierce, loyal, and loud-hearted family that came with him.
Later
The echo of Alina's voice still rang faintly in my ears even though hours had passed. I could still see her — sharp, poised, manipulative — standing there with that practiced smile she wore like war paint.
But what kept me grounded in that dizzying moment was Antonio. His hand had never left mine. His glare toward her had been cold, unreadable, the kind of silence that said everything.
Now, back at home, I sat on the edge of our bed, still trying to shake the unease in my chest.
He came in quietly, freshly showered, towel slung over his shoulder, a frown creasing his brow as he looked at me. "She shouldn't have come," he muttered. "Not like that. Not when we were just out for coffee."
"She said she wanted closure," I replied, voice quieter than I intended. "But it didn't feel like it."
"It wasn't," he said firmly. "It was a performance. Like always. She wanted to see if she still had power."
I looked at him then. Really looked. Hair damp, sleeves rolled, shirt half-buttoned like he rushed to change because he couldn't focus until he checked on me. "Did she?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
Antonio's brows drew together. In a second, he was kneeling in front of me, cupping my face, his voice low and raw. "Selene, the only woman who holds power over me now… is sitting right here. She's the woman I fought to win back. The one I fell in love with twice. You. No one else."
I bit my lip. "Still… seeing her, after everything—"
"—reminded me exactly why I never looked back," he cut in, eyes locking onto mine. "She's my past. A lesson. You're my life."
His hand slid to the back of my neck as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to mine. I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of his presence wash away the ghost of hers.
"Remember when I pretended to be your savior from those stray dogs?" he whispered with a grin in his voice. "All just to talk to you."
I smiled. "You were ridiculous."
He smirked, his lips brushing mine. "I had to find a way to get your attention. Turns out, chasing you was just the beginning."
His kiss came slowly at first. But when I reached up, tugging him closer by the collar, it deepened, turning fierce and grounding. Antonio lifted me into his arms as though I weighed nothing, laying me back gently onto the bed.
"I hated seeing her face today," I admitted breathlessly. "Not because I felt anything… but because I knew what she used to mean to you."
Antonio's lips trailed down my jaw. "She never meant what you do. Not even close.
In his arms, every scar softened. Every doubt faded.
"I'm not afraid of ghosts anymore," I whispered.
"Good," he breathed, voice rough, "because the only thing that matters now… is us."
And in the silence that followed, tangled in sheets and honesty, we made something stronger than closure. We made peace.