chapter 49

Amaira weaved her way through the crowd, her steps light but purposeful. She needed space, somewhere away from prying eyes, somewhere she could breathe.She knew exactly where to go.Past the grand chandeliers and golden décor, hidden behind thick, cascading curtains, lay a secluded balcony—one that most guests never even noticed. It was her little escape, the only truly quiet place in this grand palace.As she stepped through the draped entrance, the cool night air brushed against her skin. She exhaled softly, grateful for the solitude.But then—A cry.A small, helpless cry.Amaira’s breath hitched, her body tensing.Her heart pounded as she turned sharply, eyes scanning the shadows.And then—it clicked.She rushed to the balcony railing and looked down.A child.A young boy, barely hanging onto the ledge, his small fingers gripping the cold iron bars for dear life. His golden and black mask was slightly askew, revealing a pair of terrified eyes.Her heart stopped.“Alex!” she gasped, pure fear shooting through her.Without thinking, she dropped to her knees and reached for him.“Hold on, baby, hold on! Mama’s here!” she pleaded, stretching as far as she could.The boy didn’t answer—his tiny hands were slipping.“No, no, no—stay with me!” she choked out, desperately gripping his wrists.With all her strength, she pulled him up, her muscles burning with effort.As soon as he was safely over the railing, she crushed him into her embrace, holding him like she would never let go. Her hands trembled as she stroked his back, her eyes squeezed shut.“My baby, my baby…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You scared me to death.”The little boy didn’t speak, but he melted into her warmth, letting himself be held.Her arms were the softest, warmest place he had ever been in.It felt… safe. Familiar.Like home.Amaira loosened her grip just enough to cup his face, her eyes frantically checking for any injuries. “Are you hurt, sweetheart?” she asked, her voice still shaking.The boy just stared at her through wide, unreadable eyes. The little boy remained eerily quiet.Amaira frowned, pulling back to cup his face. “Alex?”He just stared at her.Her heart clenched.He was never this silent.Worry surged through her. Was he in shock? Hurt? Sick?She ran her hands over his arms, checking for injuries. “Baby, say something,” she urged softly. “Are you okay?”Still—no response.Her stomach twisted. Something was wrong.She needed to get him out of here.Reaching for her phone with one hand while holding him close with the other, she quickly messaged Evelina: I’m taking Alex back. Something’s off. Don’t worry—I’ll handle it.She scooped him up, whispering reassurances, and left the balcony without looking back.As they slipped through the palace halls, she had no idea—That the boy in her arms was not Alex.And that the real Alex was somewhere else, unaware of the mistake that would change everything.***Nicolo leaned against a pillar, staring at the swirling dance floor, feeling an unfamiliar weight settle in his chest. She’s not here. He had been so sure for a moment, but it was just another illusion—another ghost of the past teasing him before slipping away.Exhaling sharply, he ran a hand through his hair. There was no point in staying any longer. He had no interest in these extravagant gatherings, not when his mind was elsewhere."Where’s Justin?" he asked the nearest guard, already prepared to leave.The guard hesitated. Too much.Nicolo’s gaze sharpened. "Where. Is. My. Son?"The guards exchanged uneasy glances before one finally admitted, "We… lost him, Boss."A cold chill shot through Nicolo’s spine. Lost?His entire demeanor changed in an instant. A deadly silence stretched before his voice cut through like a blade."Find him. NOW."He didn’t wait for them to move. His heart pounded in his chest as he stormed through the palace, his sharp eyes scanning every face, every corner. Justin never wandered off—where the hell was he?!He pushed through the crowd, his patience hanging by a thread, when—There.At the food counter.Nicolo froze for a second.His son—his quiet, obedient son—sat comfortably on a barstool, licking melted chocolate off his fingers, completely unbothered.Relief and frustration crashed into Nicolo all at once. He strode forward, grabbed Justin’s wrist firmly, and pulled him off the stool."We’re leaving."The child froze. His wide eyes locked onto Nicolo’s face, confusion flickering."L-Let me go!" The boy struggled. "Who are you?!"Nicolo frowned. "Justin, stop acting up. We’re going home."The boy stiffened. "J-Justin?" His lips parted, confusion deepening.Before he could say more, Nicolo lifted him onto his shoulder."No—stop! Let me go!" The boy’s small fists hit Nicolo’s back. "I want my Mama!"Nicolo barely reacted. Justin never threw tantrums, but maybe he was tired."You’ve had enough fun," Nicolo muttered, securing his grip. "We’re going home."The little boy whimpered, panic in his voice. "Mamaa!"But Nicolo kept walking, unaware of the grave mistake he had just made.Because the boy in his arms wasn’t Justin.It was Alex.