Beyond the Family's Shadow

The wedding was postponed. Again. Thanks to that whole circus.

Everyone had plenty of free time now. The next day, they were gone. Vacation.

Her father, mother, and brother took Serena. Serena, in turn, got Dante to come along. No one thought to tell Elara.

By the time she woke up, the long line of black cars was already heading to the Hamptons.

They even took half the staff – maids, cooks, bodyguards – to dote on "fragile" Serena. Like a single rough moment on vacation would shatter her.

Vane Manor felt like a vast, silent tomb. Elara was completely alone.

Outside, a storm was brewing. Inside, Elara's heart was a tempest.

Elara scrolled through Instagram.

Serena had just posted. A family photo.

The whole family crammed into the frame, all smiles. Dante had his arm around Serena’s waist, their gazes locked under the seaside sunset.

The caption: "So blessed to have my favorite people. Thank God."

"Favorite people." Huh.

Elara let out a cold laugh. The empty mansion echoed it.

She shut her phone off. Ignored the bait.

She turned and went into the studio, packing up her things.

Her expensive paints, custom brushes, and a few of her best works, tucked away, unsigned, never shown to anyone.

These were the only things that were truly hers. Her capital to build something in Sanctuary.

Just a little longer. Then she’d be free.

As she sealed the last box, a smash of glass from downstairs.

Faint, but in the dead quiet, it was deafening.

Crash—

Someone was in the house.

Elara’s muscles went rigid.

She remembered this time in her last life. A break-in. Priceless heirlooms gone. Her artwork, destroyed.

Lights out. She fired off an emergency text, grabbed the pepper spray and a utility knife from the table, and went barefoot for the stairs.

Two shadows were rummaging in the living room, flashlight beams cutting through the dark.

"Nice place. Vase looks old."

"Upstairs. Bet the Vanes have a safe. They're all gone, right? Easy pickings."

Not pros. Just junkies looking to score while the owners were out.

But desperate men are the most dangerous.

They were coming up. Heavy, clumsy footsteps.

Elara held her breath, backing into the safe room at the end of the hall.

Built for gang wars. Usually just storage.

She locked the heavy steel door.

Then, the doorknob spun wildly, followed by heavy thuds against the metal.

"Damn it, locked! There’s gotta be something good in there!"

"Kick it down!"

Bang! Bang! The door shuddered. Dust rained down.

Through it all, Elara didn't scream. She stood by the door, calm.

The lock finally broke. The man charged in.

Elara aimed for his eyes, pressing down hard on the pepper spray.

"Ah! My eyes!" A piercing scream ripped through the mansion.

In the chaos, the other man lunged, slashing Elara’s arm.

Blood gushed. The pain cleared her head.

She grabbed the heavy easel and swung it hard, right on his head.

Thud! He swayed, then went limp.

Half an hour later, the police were there. Flashing lights, and the intruders were caught.

Elara, injured, was taken to the hospital. She got a quick bandage from the paramedics and headed home.

When her family got the call from the police and rushed back, all they saw was the mess.

Her mother shrieked, running to the shattered Qing vase.

"My God! My vase! Worth millions! Elara, what did you do?! Can't you watch anything?!"

Leo looked at the easel. He casually kicked at the bloodstain.

"Bad omen. This junk wood held up, though. We'll need a cleaning crew for the carpets."

No one asked if she was hurt. No one cared about the blood seeping through the bandage.

Elara gave a bitter laugh. In her last life, left alone in the house that night, with no staff, she’d been badly hurt by these guys. Hospitalized for six months, a permanent limp. She’d called her family, desperate. No answer. She found out later they were all out on a yacht with Serena, celebrating.

This time, though, she expected nothing.

Dante entered last. His eyes found Elara, then her wound. His brow furrowed. But his first words froze Elara.

"Serena posts yesterday. The house gets hit today? And you? You're barely scratched?"

He moved closer, his voice low, intense.

"Elara. This whole thing… it seems too convenient. A story for attention?"

Elara looked at the man she had loved for ten years.

She said softly:

"If you have to think that, then let's just say that's what happened."

Dante, seeing that Elara was clearly not herself, wanted to say more.

At that moment, Leo walked out from the staircase, carrying the suitcase Elara had packed last night.

"Where do you think you're going with our family's belongings, Elara?"