The silence between them was suffocating. Dust floated in the air, catching in the dim light of the single lamp overhead. Aria clutched the folder so tightly the edges bit into her skin.
Darius stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a deliberate click. "Answer me."
Her voice wavered, but the words came sharp. "You lied to me." She shoved the folder against his chest. "All this time, and you never said. Victor—he's not just your enemy. He's your brother."
His jaw tightened, though his hands never rose to take the folder. He let it fall to the floor, papers spilling like spilled secrets.
"You don't understand," he said.
"Then make me." Her heart pounded, but her spine stayed straight. "All the whispers, all the walls you keep around yourself… was this it? Was this the truth Victor was talking about?"
Darius's eyes flashed — anger, but also something rawer, deeper, that he rarely allowed anyone to see. He dragged a hand through his hair and turned from her, facing the cabinets as if the wood could shield him.
"Yes," he admitted finally, voice low. "We share blood. But blood doesn't make family."
Aria blinked, stunned by the bitterness cutting through his words.
"When I was young," he continued, "I lived in Hale's house. Not as a son — as a shadow. My mother was nothing to Victor's father. A mistress. Disposable." His fists clenched. "I learned quickly that their name was poison to me. I swore I'd carve my own."
Her throat tightened. "And Victor?"
"He grew fat on privilege while I was left to fight for scraps. Don't mistake this war for sibling rivalry, Aria. He isn't my brother. He's the rot I cut from my blood long ago."
The room pulsed with his words, but they didn't soothe her. If anything, the fire in her chest grew hotter.
"You should've told me," she whispered. "You talk about loyalty, about trust, but you hide the one thing that ties you to him."
Darius turned sharply, his voice rising for the first time. "Because the moment you knew, you'd look at me differently. Just like you're looking at me now."
Her breath caught. He was right — something in her had shifted. The truth was a weight she couldn't un-know.
They stared at each other across the mess of papers, neither moving, the distance between them more dangerous than any battlefield.
Finally, Darius spoke, quieter now, almost broken: "You wanted my truth. Now you have it. Tell me, Aria… do you still stand with me?"
The question cut deeper than the revelation itself. Because for the first time, she wasn't sure of her answer.