Lara felt the faintest tremor in her eyelids, a tiny betrayal her body couldn’t quite suppress.
Her face, however, stayed perfectly composed.
For one suspended second, their eyes locked.
Then she looked away first.
Her gaze shifted to the older man standing beside him. His silver hair had been carefully dyed black, the color just a shade too dark to be natural. It shaved years off his appearance, but not enough to hide the weight of age in his posture.
Anyone invited to General Leonard Norse’s private celebration had to be important.
They must be close.
Lara searched her mory, sifting through the clutter of old faces and half-forgotten nas. Nothing. The man was a blank space.
And she hated not knowing.
...
Later, when the clink of cutlery softened and the guests settled into their wine and laughter, a troupe of entertainers drifted into the hall. Piano, guitars, violins, warm voices — old ballads from Leonard’s youth floated through the air like nostalgia itself.
The atmosphere grew light, almost intimate.
Even Sumr’s obvious flirting with Liam and Natalie’s possessive clinging to Ares couldn’t sour the mood.
Then Layla stood.
She wore a calculating smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She stepped onto the platform, lifted the microphone, and spoke in a honey-sweet voice.
"Since today is Dad’s special day... and since Mom and Dad welcod a new goddaughter into the family..." She paused deliberately. "I’d like to invite my new sister to offer him a birthday gift. Maybe... a song?"
Every head turned.
To Lara.
Her fingers curled into her palm.
So this was it.
A trap.
Layla wouldn’t call her up unless she was sure Lara would embarrass herself.
Singing wasn’t sothing Lara did in public. The only person who had ever heard her voice was Shay, who begged for lullabies at night.
She knew only those. She also learned that her voice was good.
She was about to refuse—
A gentle tug on her dress stopped her.
Alia.
"I can play the piano," she whispered. "Or the violin. Whichever you want."
Quiet, reclusive Alia, who had spent most of her childhood hidden away in her grandfather’s mountain villa had mastered instrunts the way other kids learned video gas.
Her eyes were nervous... but determined.
She wanted to help.
Lara studied her for half a second, then nodded.
"Give us a few minutes to prepare," she said calmly.
Layla’s smile faltered.
Does she actually know how to sing?
Alia suggested You Raised Up. Simple. A tribute song from children to their fathers.
After hearing the lody once from a video, Lara rose.
And walked to the stage. Not hesitantly, not nervously.
But like a queen stepping into her court.
Beside her, Alia’s posture subtly changed. Her back straightened. Chin lifted. The timid girl vanished, replaced by soone quietly resolute, like a lady-in-waiting.
She had never played in front of a crowd before.
But if she couldn’t stand beside Lara now... what good was she?
At Liam’s table, Sumr frowned.
"Since when does Alia play piano?"
"I don’t know," Liam said, watching the stage. His eyes flickered with interest. "I’ve never seen her."
Onstage, Lara gave a graceful curtsy.
Elegant. Refined.
The kind seen only in period dramas and royal galas.
The room stilled.
Alia’s fingers touched the keys.
Then—
Music blood. Clear. Rich. Effortless.
The first notes spilled into the air like sunlight through clouds.
Liam’s gaze sharpened, sothing unreadable flickering in his eyes.
And then Lara sang. Her voice was soft and pure.
Almost fragile.
But powerful enough to hold the entire hall captive.
When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary...When troubles co and my heart burdened be...
Her voice didn’t strain. Didn’t try to impress.
It was simply honest and warm, and achingly beautiful.
The lyrics wrapped around the garden, slipped into every chest, every mory.
You raise up so I can stand on mountains... You raise up to walk on stormy seas...
I am strong when I am on Your shoulders...You raise up to more than I can be...
By the final note, no one moved.
The last chord faded.
Silence.
The song was long finished, but the crowd was silent.
Alia’s heart hamred. Lara’s voice was so beautiful.
Did I ss up?
But before doubt could swallow her—
"Mommy!"
Shay’s small voice rang out.
"So... sooo... cool!"
She dashed forward, fearless, throwing her arms around Lara’s leg.
The crowd blinked out of their trance.
Then—
A thunderous applause.
Ares sat frozen, stunned. Shay, who usually hid from crowds, had run straight onto a stage facing a crowd full of strangers.
Madeline quietly wiped at her eyes beside Leonard and the mayor.
She hadn’t realized she was crying.
Sumr shot Layla a look of pure irritation.
"Idiot," she muttered under her breath. "You handed her the spotlight yourself."
Even Alia — quiet, invisible Alia — was receiving praise.
Really an idiot.
Layla’s jaw tightened.
Alia swallowed, then took the microphone with shaking hands.
"About the video earlier..." she said, voice small but firm. "Larissa didn’t bully anyone. It was misleading."
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
"They looked like friends up there," soone said. "No way that was fake."
"If they weren’t close, could they perform like that?"
Just like that—
The narrative shifted.
And Layla’s carefully prepared trap collapsed.
...
By the ti the last guest left and the music faded into the night, the mansion felt strangely hollow.
Like a stage after the curtains dropped.
Only the soft clink of staff clearing glasses and the distant hum of conversation lingered.
Lara stood near the grand staircase, phone in hand.
Five new nas glowed on her screen.
God Father. God Mother. Logan. Lucas. Alia.
Five connections.
Five doors she hadn’t expected to open tonight.
For soone who thought he had to spend her life alone, the list felt... heavy and dangerous.
Because attachnts always ca with a price.
Across the foyer, Layla’s voice shattered the quiet.
"I said I don’t want to stay in the main house tonight!"
Her heels struck the marble floor in sharp, angry beats.
"I’m staying in the guest wing with Sumr. Why should she get to stay here like she belongs?"
The last words were edged with venom.
The Norse brothers froze.
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