Chapter 10 – Bloodlines
1014 Words
The next morning, sunlight bled through storm-clouded skies, but it brought no warmth.
Aria sat by the cracked window of Blackthorn Manor, the note still clenched in her fingers.
“Level Two unlocked. She doesn’t belong to you anymore.” — R
The paper was soaked from the rain, the ink smudging like tears.
Lucien stood behind her, pacing.
“He has a sample of your blood,” he said, voice low and clipped. “That’s how he got access to Level Two. He’s moving fast.”
Aria didn’t move. “How did he even get my blood?”
Lucien’s jaw tightened. “The masquerade. He must’ve done something when he touched you.”
Aria remembered Ronan’s gloved fingers brushing hers. Just a moment. A graze. At the time, it had felt like static. Now, it felt like betrayal.
“I feel sick,” she whispered.
Lucien knelt beside her, placing his hands gently on hers. “I should’ve protected you.”
She looked at him then, her eyes soft but haunted. “You can’t protect me from fate, Lucien.”
“I can try,” he said fiercely.
That afternoon, they returned to the Vault.
But this time, everything was different.
The air felt violated. Like someone had entered a sacred place and twisted it from within. Lights flickered. A buzzing sound echoed from deeper inside.
Level Two was open.
A massive metal door had been forced, its lock system overridden by external code.
Inside, the files were in chaos. Some had been moved. Others… destroyed.
Aria’s fingers trembled as she touched a half-burned folder.
Lucien scanned a terminal nearby. “He’s erased the digital logs. There’s no trace of which files he accessed.”
Then Aria saw something on the wall.
Spray paint. Red letters.
THE BLOODLINE IS A LIE.
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
Lucien didn’t answer right away. Then, quietly: “There’s a rumor that the Vault holds records of something bigger than just crime—something genetic.”
Aria turned. “What do you mean, genetic?”
Lucien stared at the wall. “Your mother… she wasn’t just an investigator. She was a geneticist. Theories say the Vault was tied to a breeding program pairing heirs with certain traits. Mental sharpness. Charisma. Even cruelty.”
Aria’s stomach twisted. “So I was bred for something?”
Lucien’s gaze was unreadable. “I think you were bred to be better. To end it.”
She backed away. “No. This isn’t real. It can’t be—”
Then she saw it.
Another file. Somehow missed by Ronan.
It was labeled:
WINTERS // VALE — UNITY PROTOCOL
Aria opened it with shaking hands.
Inside were birth records. Her mother’s handwriting. Photos.
And a DNA match profile.
Lucien peered over her shoulder.
His breath caught.
“Aria… this shows a 94% compatibility between your DNA and Ronan’s.”
She nearly dropped the file.
“Wait—what?!”
Lucien’s voice was like gravel. “You’re not his sister. But you were meant to be bonded. Matched.”
Her eyes flew to his. “Like a twisted soulmate program?”
“No… like a contract,” Lucien said grimly. “A living binding. One that could either fuse power… or destroy it.”
Aria couldn’t breathe.
She stumbled backward, heart racing.
Everything she’d known about her mother’s death, the scholarship, the sudden interest from the Vale brothers—it wasn’t fate.
It was design.
Lucien grabbed her arms. “You’re not a tool. You’re not their experiment. You’re you, Aria.”
She looked at him, but all she could see was the file.
Her name.
Ronan’s name.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered.
“I didn’t know,” he said, his voice breaking. “But now I wish I never brought you here. I should’ve left you out of this.”
Tears blurred her vision. “It’s too late for that now.”
That night, Aria wandered the estate halls alone.
She needed air.
She needed space to think.
Outside, the gardens shimmered under the moonlight, eerily quiet. She stopped by the fountain—the same place Lucien had first told her about the Vault.
Memories of him filled her chest.
His hands on hers. His promise to protect her. His quiet heartbreak.
And now… this.
A soft rustle behind her.
She turned.
Ronan stood just beyond the hedge.
His black coat fluttered in the breeze, his face unreadable.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice tight.
He stepped forward. “Neither should you.”
Aria straightened. “You manipulated everything.”
“I uncovered everything,” Ronan corrected, calm. “You were living a lie. Lucien hid you from your truth.”
“My truth isn’t your property.”
Ronan smirked. “You’re angry. Good. Anger leads to clarity.”
“What do you want?”
He stepped closer.
“Join me.”
She blinked. “What?”
“The Vault has a third level. Locked by the old codes. But it won’t open without both of us.”
Aria took a step back.
“Why me?”
“Because you’re the key. Always have been.”
“And what happens if I say no?”
Ronan smiled darkly. “Then Lucien dies. And everything your mother worked for burns.”
He dropped something at her feet.
A photograph.
Lucien, unconscious. Bleeding. Surrounded by men in Vale security uniforms.
Aria dropped to her knees, hands shaking.
“I haven’t hurt him. Yet,” Ronan said. “But this is your only chance. Come to the old observatory at midnight. Alone. Or I finish what my father started.”
Then he was gone.
Like a shadow swallowed by the night.
⸻
Back inside the mansion, Aria stood before the mirror in Lucien’s study.
She stared at her reflection.
Who was she now?
A girl built from secrets.
Raised in lies.
Loved by one brother… and wanted by the other.
Her fingers closed around the Vault keycard.
Midnight was coming.
And so was her decision.
- Writer
