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Chapter 9 - The Crown Jewel

POV Julian

l thought babysitting would be easy. A chance to prove to Elijah I wasn't just the screw-up little brother. Jules loved my guitar anyway, and Kiara's garage was basically home turf. Band practice and babysitting in one shot—what could possibly go wrong? 

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Leo asked, adjusting his glasses as l strapped a delighted Juliet into her car seat.

"Relax, nerd. It's just Kiara's place. It's safe. Besides, the boss-man trusts me," l said, a little too cocky. Elijah had actually said, "Do not disappoint me," which was basically the same thing.

In Kiara's garage, surrounded by amps and the smell of old wood, Juliet was in heaven. Her eyes went huge when I played a simple chord on my guitar. A deep, rumbling strum that made her whole face light up.

"Pah! Bah!" she demanded, bouncing on Kiara's lap.

So I did. A stupid, simple little riff. And my tiny, terrifying little sister started to laugh. Not a baby giggle, but a real, belly-deep laugh of pure joy. She reached out her chubby hands, not to eat the guitar, but to gently pat the strings.

Strummm-bbrrrzzzt.

It was the ugliest, most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. She giggled, a real, deep belly laugh, and did it again, looking up at me with this proud, sparkly look like she'd just discovered magic.

When she got bored of the guitar, Kiara grabbed some paper and markers. "Okay, rockstar, time to design your first album cover."

She helped Jules wrap her hand around the blue marker. Together, they drew big, loopy squiggles all over the paper. Juliet was concentrating so hard, her little tongue poking out. Kiara added a silly cartoon dog next to the squiggles.

"See? You're an artist," Kiara said, and Jules beamed, shoving the paper in my face to show off her masterpiece.

Then Juliet pointed a purple-stained finger at the dog and babbled, a long, serious sentence in baby talk, like she was explaining her artistic vision to Kiara. And Kiara, to her credit, nodded along like she understood every word. "Absolutely, you're so right. The dog needs a friend."

For a second, I let myself forget. I forgot about the family business, the enemies, the constant fear. I just watched my baby sister having a normal, messy, happy time with a friend. It was perfect.

Then my phone buzzed.

The screen showed an unknown number. The message was short. A punch to the gut.

Unknown: Your mother didn't die from complications. It was poison. Your father didn't abandon you from grief. He was murdered the same night. The mugging was a lie. Your brother has been lying to you. Clocktower Cafe. Come alone.

The music died. The happy bubble popped. The real world crashed back in, cold and hard.

"Jules? What's wrong?" Kiara asked. The smile was gone from her voice.

I couldn't even look at her. Or at Juliet, who was now happily chewing on the cap of the marker. "I have to go."

"What? You can't be serious! You can't just leave her!"

"It's ten minutes. It's about my mother." The lie tasted bitter. "Lock the door. Don't answer for anyone. I mean it."

I ruffled Juliet's hair. "Be good for Kiara, little rockstar."

I was on my bike and gone, the ghost of their laughter still ringing in my ears, chased away by the roar of the engine.

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l slid into the booth across from the nervous-looking man. "Start talking. And this better be good."

The man leaned forward, his voice a shaky whisper. "It's about your parents. Everything you know is a lie."

My blood ran cold. "What are you talking about?"

"Your mother. The 'complications' during birth?" He shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. "There were no complications. It was a poison. Given to her slowly, over weeks. The Mendozas made sure she wouldn't survive bringing your sister into the world."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Murdered.

"But that's not all," the man continued, his voice dropping even lower. "Your father... Ricardo... he didn't abandon you because he was grieving."

"Then why?" l choked out.

"Because he never got the chance." The man's eyes were full of pity. "The same night your mother died, while his guard was down, the Mendozas sent a hitman. They executed your father in the hospital parking lot. Made it look like a random mugging."

Everything in me cracked like glass. The image of my strong father, taken out like that... it was unthinkable.

"Elijah knows," the informant said, watching the horror dawn on my face. "He found out. He was old enough to understand. So he made a choice."

"What choice?" l whispered, already fearing the answer.

"He let you believe your father had run away," the man said, then drew in a long, steadying breath. "He thought it would be easier for you to be angry at a coward... than to live in fear of the powerful men who really killed your parents."

He swallowed, his voice breaking. "He knew that if you found out the Mendozas were responsible, you'd go after them... and you'd both end up dead."

His eyes dropped, guilt heavy in his face. "So he carried the secret alone. He took all the hate you felt for your 'abandoning' father... and shouldered it himself, just to keep you safe."

The betrayal was a cold stone in my gut. How many lies were we living?

The informant sat back. "Your whole life, Julian... it's been built on a lie to protect you. And now, the same people who killed your parents are still out there. And they know about Juliet."

The lie landed in my chest like a boulder. But a new, sharper anger cut through the shock.

"Who are you?" I snarled, leaning across the table. "Why are you telling me this? Why now?"

The man flinched like I'd struck him. He looked down at his shaking hands. "My name is Marco Silvano," he whispered. "And I... I'm the reason they were able to do it."

He finally looked up, and his eyes were swimming with tears of pure guilt. "I was just a driver. A nobody. The Mendozas, they... they threatened my little girl. She was just a baby. They said they'd hurt her if I didn't do what they said."

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "They gave me a package. Told me it was just something to make your mother a little sick, to slow your father down. I swear, I didn't know it was poison! I didn't know they were going to kill her!"

His voice broke into a sob. "I delivered it. I drove the car the night they... they killed your father. I've had to live with that every single day. It's been eating me alive from the inside. I see your brothers with your baby sister... and I see what I helped destroy. I have a daughter too. I couldn't stay silent anymore. I had to tell you the truth."

My phone buzzed, shattering the moment. A single, icy text from an unknown number:

Unknown: We have your crown jewel.

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The world stopped.

Jules.

I didn't look back. I ran to my bike, the engine roaring to life, and sped back to Kiara's, a single thought screaming in my head: I left her, and the monsters my brother was hiding from us found her.

The dread hit like a punch to the ribs. Every second was a countdown. I drove like the devil himself was clawing at my back.

Twenty-three minutes.

The garage door was ajar. The silence inside pressed against my chest, heavy, suffocating.

I shoved the door open.

Nightmare.

Kiara was on the floor, duct tape sealed over her mouth, wrists tied to the leg of a heavy amplifier. Her eyes—wide, glistening with terror—pleaded with me. Tears had carved dirty streaks down her cheeks

My guitar lay beside her, the neck snapped clean in two. A deliberate, violent message.

But the worst thing was the small, empty space in the center of the room. The spot where I'd left Juliet's blanket.

Next to it, crumpled and trampled, was the piece of paper with her happy, squiggly drawings.

She was gone.

I didn't scream. The sound I made was choked, animal. I fell to my knees and ripped the tape from Kiara's mouth.

"They knew your name," she sobbed, her whole body shaking. "They said... 'Tell Julian the Mendozas send their regards.' They took her, Julian. I'm sorry..."

The Mendozas. The name from the ghost in the cafe. This was a trap. I was the bait, and I led them right to her.

My hand trembled so badly I could barely hold my phone. Calling Elijah meant admitting I had failed in the worst way possible. I had gotten our sister stolen.

I fumbled for my phone, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I scrolled to the only person who wouldn't yell immediately.

"Leo," I choked, tears streaming down my face. "Leo, you have to help me. I messed up so bad. I left her. Oh god, she's gone. The Mendozas... they have Jules."

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