A pair of dark ash-gray eyes belonging to a twenty-two-year-old girl stared at her phone screen in pure disgust. A private text thread—between her and an ex-crush from a dating app.
Not even a minute later, Artemis forwarded the rant-filled message—packed with curses aimed at that ex-crush—straight to her older brother, Apollo.
Anyone who thinks they deserve to be chased is no different from a damn donkey! Artemis typed, replying to Apollo's sticker—a character laughing with its mouth wide open—clearly meant for her self-centered ex-crush.
The next second, Apollo sent a flood of screenshots. Instagram handles. A long list of accounts from someone's following list.
Before Artemis could even ask, a short message popped up.
I saved a few of Birgit's friends' accounts. Try testing the waters—who knows which one's a lesbong and which one's not.
"I'm done here, Miss," said a broad-shouldered man who had just stepped out of Luca De Rucci's room—Artemis's grandfather. Dennis. Luca's bodyguard, a man who, for reasons unknown, was still trusted by that senile old bastard. Even though Dennis had once worked with Luca's rival—his wife's former lover.
"If you're wondering why I'm still working for Sir Luca…" Dennis continued, just as Artemis reached the door and wrapped her fingers around the knob, "tonight is my last night, Miss."
Dennis's phone vibrated loudly in the pocket of his slacks. When he pulled out the device—smaller and flatter than Artemis's—he turned the screen toward the sour face of his bald employer.
"Hera?" Artemis sneered between a soft giggle. "Good. I hope you can survive Hera's selective amnesia toward her own family, Mr. Dennis."
Dennis flinched slightly as the girl he'd played toy cars with since childhood slammed the door shut. The man, who had devoted years to the family—close friends of the De Rucci—could only let out a long sigh.
His steps felt heavier as he left Artemis alone in that house.
Dennis's pride—his foster child—still had to wait for Claire, the grandmother, to wake from her coma. To endure dinners wrapped in silence and surveillance, seated across from her grandfather and father.
But if Dennis truly wanted to protect her, he had to start with Luca's second grandchild—the one who had isolated herself too far gone.
Hera. A woman with a child. Slowly erasing Hades's identity from the family entirely.
And would his new employer do the same to Artemis?
After everything the youngest grandchild of Luca had gone through six years ago.
Inside Luca's study, walls crowded with paintings, three or four armchairs were arranged neatly beneath their frames. This room had once been Claire's playground with Apollo and Artemis—a place where stories and longing were shared for Hades and Hera, who had been forced to spend their childhoods with their former in-laws.
Artemis's thoughts shattered when Luca spun his tall chair around to face his youngest grandchild.
"Six years, huh," Luca clicked his tongue, scanning Artemis from head to toe. "People change. Except you."
Artemis raised her brows, deliberately putting on an expression somewhere between shocked and touched.
"You've been counting all this time? Must be bored. Oh—right. Makes sense. You gave everything to Hera anyway."
Luca clenched his teeth behind his tightly shut, wrinkled lips.
Look closely enough, and Artemis only inherited Robert's face. Her speech, her attitude—each word felt printed on paper. Exactly like Charissa, her mother.
Swallowing his regret for ever taking in Artemis's father, Luca delivered Hera's message: she wanted Artemis to work as part of the digital media staff for the family's printing business.
With a Mass Communication degree and internship experience, Artemis could work quietly—free of nepotism gossip.
Still, she no longer trusted Hera.
Her cousin was starting to resemble the very megalomaniac sitting smugly in front of her.
At first, Artemis had pitied Hera—forever living in the shadow of her late twin, Hades. But the way Hera spoke of her status as just a niece, or flaunted the massive age gap…
She didn't deserve Artemis's loyalty as family.
"Even without me, plenty of people are lining up to apply at Hera's office. I'm planning to extend my internship into a contract anyway," Artemis said, smoothly lying as she rejected her grandfather's offer.
As usual, Luca mocked Artemis's directionless career. Added to that—the fact that her ex also worked at her internship.
"This is Lacy's last month," Artemis cut in before Luca rambled further—before he dragged in the name of her childhood friend, who also happened to be Lacy's stepsister.
Luca let out a harsh breath, then spoke arrogantly, "I've delivered Hera's message. You're having dinner with your mother and Polo soon, right? Don't forget to smile and ask how they are. I heard two journalists will be at the restaurant."
"If Hera really wants me there, why didn't she tell me herself?" Artemis pressed, hoping Luca would slip about Hera's recent odd behavior—caught by paparazzi visiting Luzardi's apartment. Another De Rucci associate. Another bad history, ever since Artemis rejected their grandson.
"Your cousin has enough problems. Don't ask too much. Go join your father—Robert's been waiting," Luca ordered.
Just as Artemis turned away, Luca spoke again.
"Stay away from Emily, Arte. Even though her marriage to that old man Raymond was canceled… plenty of single men in Luzardi are still chasing her."
Artemis ignored him, quickening her steps.
"You could try getting close to Talia. That party-loving brat gives me a headache anyway!"
What?!
Artemis spun around, staring at her grandfather—now standing by the large window.
"She's my cousin!"
"She's the daughter of Gerald's mistress—"
"She's still my cousin! Don't be insane!"
Artemis slammed the door again. The same room her grandmother used to frequent.
As she walked away, Artemis roughly wiped the tears threatening to fall.
Twice a month, she had to face Luca. Sometimes just by coincidence—as if fate enjoyed reminding her she had a father who silenced himself, and a grandfather who policed her career and love life.
At least tonight, she'd have fun terrorizing Birgit with Apollo and her stepbrother, Patra.
Of course… after dinner, Artemis muttered internally when she saw her father, Robert, rise from one of the living room sofas.
But two other men sat on a three-seater couch. Artemis recognized one of them.
"Kak Remi," she greeted, trying not to sound annoyed—because anyone close to Hera automatically reminded her of that insufferable cousin.
Though Remi stood and returned her hug, Artemis's gaze locked onto the other man.
Curly afro hair brushing his shoulders. A sharp, eagle-beak nose.
He reminded her of… Blair.
"Art, this is Aiden," Remi said, shifting aside. "My high school friend."
The full name that followed made Artemis laugh out loud.
"Aiden Portia."
"Aiden, do you know Blair?"
"Oh—Bo—uh!" Aiden coughed lightly. "That kid's the one person I avoid whenever I visit Kakiang's house," he said with a sweet smile, eyes curving into crescents.
Artemis guessed—was Aiden intimidated by Blair's obsessive attention to detail, especially when it came to future work?
A single firm nod from Aiden answered her silent question.
Even as Robert and Artemis excused themselves, Remi didn't ask where or when Hera would arrive—fulfilling their duties as husband and wife, dining and chatting about grandchildren with Luca.
But why was Aiden coming too?
That question lingered in Artemis's mind as she stared out the car window.
Maybe De Rucci and Portia are working together again, she thought.
Her father's silence wasn't new. If Robert suddenly tried to start a conversation—that was when something was wrong.
"Your stepbrother—Patra," Robert said. Artemis replied with a vague hum. "Is he still doing volunteer work teaching literacy to kids?"
"Orphanage kids," Artemis corrected.
Her brow creased when Robert asked for the orphanage's name. She didn't turn. She was too exhausted from arguing with Luca, so she answered plainly.
At the restaurant, Artemis spotted Charissa and Apollo seated by the window.
"You go in first," Robert said before she opened the door.
She shrugged, indifferent, and walked inside.
Robert searched the orphanage name Artemis had mentioned. Saved the number.
His graying fingers hovered—then pressed call.
A part of him hoped it would be answered.
Another part whispered prayers that it wouldn't.
"Hello?" an elderly woman's voice answered.
Robert's lips froze mid-prayer. Swallowing felt impossible.
Just before the woman spoke again, Robert rushed out—
"May I speak… with Mrs. Tami?"