The café was warm, filled with the bitter-sweet aroma of coffee and the low murmur of conversations that didn't belong to them. Cups clinked softly, steam curling into the air, but at their table, tension sat heavier than silence.
Madeline stirred her drink with unnecessary force. "I still can't believe your aunt actually kicked you out," she said, disbelief sharpening every word. "Just like that."
"And she claimed the whole family agreed," Stephan added, jaw tight. "What kind of punishment even is that?"
Athena wrapped her fingers around her cup, letting the warmth seep into her skin. Her smile was faint—practiced. "Whatever they decide doesn't matter anymore. If they wanted me gone, then… fine."
Madeline's eyes flashed. "Fine? Athena, you're an orphan. They kicked your parents out and then brought you back like they really care, and they still threw you away like nothing. That's not normal. That's cruel."
Athena looked away, gaze drifting toward the window. "At least I'm not sleeping on the streets," she said quietly. "I've survived worse."
Stephan scoffed under his breath. "That house and the streets aren't so different. Both only ever hurt you."
She hesitated, then spoke softer. "Still… it's where I grew up. It was home once." A pause. "Even painful places can feel familiar."
Madeline's anger melted into worry. "Why don't you come stay with me? You don't have to do this alone."
"I'm okay, Maddie. Really."
Stephan studied her. "That massive house, all by yourself—don't you feel lonely?"
Athena shook her head, though her voice betrayed her. "I don't."
The café door opened.
The temperature seemed to shift as a tall woman stepped inside, dressed in black from head to toe. Elegant. Commanding. Every movement deliberate. Her presence turned heads without effort.
She stopped at their table.
"Hi."
Athena stiffened. "How… can we help you?"
The woman's gaze never left Stephan. "May I speak with you for a moment? Alone."
He blinked. "Me?"
"Yes."
A beat. Then he stood. "Okay."
As they walked out, Madeline leaned closer to Athena. "Who is that?"
"Emma Black," Athena murmured. "Vice President of BT Group."
Madeline's eyes widened. "What would someone like her want with Stephan?"
Athena swallowed. "Let's just wait."
---
The car smelled faintly of leather and something sharp—authority, maybe. Stephan sat stiffly across from her, hands clenched on his knees.
"What do you want from me?" he asked.
Emma didn't hesitate. "I'm here to take you home."
His brows knit together. "Home?"
"Yes." Her voice softened, just barely. "You're my son, Stephan. The rightful heir to BT Group."
The world tilted.
"That's not funny," he said hoarsely. "It doesn't even make sense."
"You were kidnapped when you were young," she continued, steady despite the tremor in her eyes. "A rival group took you. We paid the ransom. But they gave us another child—one who looked like you. A year later, we discovered the truth. By then, the group had disappeared. We thought you were dead."
Stephan's chest tightened. "Then why now?"
"Because I saw you," she said simply. "And I knew."
He laughed once, hollow. "How do I know you're not lying?"
She handed him a folder. "The DNA test."
"And if it's fake?"
"Redo it," she replied calmly. "But ask yourself—why would I lie about something that could destroy my family's name?"
Silence swallowed the car.
"I need time," Stephan whispered.
"I know." She nodded. "I'll come back the day after tomorrow."
As he stepped out, she called softly, "Goodbye, my son."
He didn't look back.
---
Back in the café, Madeline leaned forward the moment he returned. "What did she say?"
"You won't believe me."
"Try."
He exhaled. "She said I'm the heir to BT Group."
Athena froze.
"What?" Her voice was barely there.
"My biological parents own BT Group."
Madeline's breath hitched. "You're joking."
"I wish I was."
He placed the DNA report on the table.
Athena stared at it like it might bite. Slowly, she opened it. Read. Line by line. Her fingers trembled.
When she looked up, something in her had gone cold.
"So it's true," she said flatly.
"Athena, please—"
"There's nothing to explain." She stood abruptly. "Congratulations, Stephan. You finally have a family."
She walked away before he could reach her.
"Athena—wait!"
Madeline caught his arm. "Don't. Not now."
His eyes were desperate. "What if she never talks to me again?"
"She needs space," Madeline said gently, though it hurt her too. "I'll talk to her."
"I can't lose her," he whispered. "Not her."
"I know."
Madeline left.
Stephan remained seated, staring at the report spread open on the table.
The proof of blood. The promise of a future. And the reason the girl he loved had walked away.
Some truths don't unite.
Some only tear what little you had—clean in two.