Chapter Five
1512 Words
The evening in the Lopez home was filled with the laughter of children and the soft clinking of cutlery. The smell of grilled chicken and fried plantain still lingered in the air. After dinner, the twins—Snow and Shine—were sprawled out in the living room, playing a racing game on the TV, cheering and teasing each other.
In the kitchen, Desire and Nate stood shoulder to shoulder, sleeves rolled up as they cleaned the dishes together. The clatter of plates and the occasional splash of soap bubbles filled the cozy space.
“You should’ve seen Lila’s face,” Desire muttered, drying a plate with extra force. “I gave her a piece of my mind today.”
Nate’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh, you should’ve gone full Dragon Queen on her. Let her choke on her own fake lashes.”
Desire chuckled softly, handing him a glass. “Tempting. But I had the boys with me. I had to keep it classy.”
“But what the heck is she doing at a fashion house?” Nate asked with a frown. “Shouldn’t she be rolling on the floor of some failing dance club?”
Desire shrugged. “With the kind of man my boss is... wouldn’t surprise me if they’re together.”
Nate turned his head sharply. “What kind of man is this boss again?”
She scoffed. “Arrogant. Entitled. Drives a LaFerrari and acts like everyone should throw themselves at his feet. Typical Braylor spawn.”
Nate paused. “Wait... did you say Braylor?”
Desire raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Tyro Braylor.”
Nate almost dropped the soapy sponge. “Des... Rylo Bradley—my professor and mentor—he’s also a Braylor. I just found out. He called me to his penthouse today.”
Desire blinked. “Wait, wait. The Rylo?”
“Exactly!” Nate’s voice dropped in awe. “He’s not just a tech god, Desire—he’s a crypto genius. You should see his workstation. My mouth was open the whole time.”
Desire leaned against the counter, mildly amused. “You and your geek worship.”
“No, listen,” Nate said, suddenly serious. “I looked at him... and all I could think of was Snow and Shine.”
Desire blinked, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m not saying anything for sure, but Des... they have his eyes. His smile. His exact smirk. You can call it coincidence, but I’ve never been this sure of anything before.”
Desire grew quiet. Her expression turned unreadable. “You’re reading too much into it, Nate. That night... I didn’t see the man’s face. Just a pendant.”
“Still... just keep an open mind,” Nate said softly, rinsing his hands. “What if the truth’s been closer than you think?”
Desire didn’t answer. She just stared at the wet dishes, the echo of the past brushing lightly across her thoughts.
---
At Rylo’s Penthouse – Later That Night
The sleek penthouse was quiet. Only the soft hum of machines and the buzz of city life far below broke the stillness. Rylo sat alone in his study, one hand resting on the edge of his desk, the other holding a half-empty glass of aged whiskey.
His screens were dark, for once. No charts. No data. Just silence.
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
Five years ago.
He hadn’t wanted to attend that dinner. His father—Sawyer Braylor—had demanded it. A celebration, he’d said. A "family gathering," which usually meant Miles spewing passive-aggressive nonsense and Brooke pretending to be a supportive wife while watching him like a hawk and Summer she wasn't at the table.
He hadn’t eaten that night. His appetite was gone from the moment he walked in and Miles had started snide jabs about how Rylo “preferred machines over people.”
He’d ignored it.
But the drink—his father’s toast—he hadn’t expected anything from that.
The bitterness. The sudden heat in his chest.
The spinning. His vision blurry and his body was hot.
He had tried to stand... but his body betrayed him.
He remembered Miles standing beside him, saying he would help Rylo to a room.
Then—darkness.
When he awoke... he was naked, in a strange bed.
His head throbbed. His body burned.
And next to him—there had been someone. A woman. Already gone.
But her scent...
He brought the glass to his nose, as if trying to remember it again. It was not perfume, but something more subtle—like vanilla orchid with a hint of citrus and rain-soaked earth. Fresh. Delicate. Real.
He remembered her hair. Long. Black. Flowing like silk down her back.
Her skin had glowed in the faint light, and her body... trembling.
He had been her first.
A breath shuddered from his chest. “Why?” he murmured aloud. “Why would you do that to me, Father?”
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
Rylo frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone.
He stood slowly, the whiskey still in his hand, and walked toward the main door. The screen flashed the video feed.
A woman.
Long hair. Dressed in a simple cream-colored gown.
He opened the door cautiously.
But it wasn’t who he expected.
“Miss Nile.” His voice was flat.
Lila stepped in without asking, her makeup slightly smeared, eyes damp like she’d been crying.
“I’m sorry for showing up like this,” she sniffed, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. “I just... I needed someone who understands me.”
Rylo folded his arms. “You’ve never come to me before. Why now?”
Lila tilted her head. “Because... something’s happening. And I think it’s about time we both stop hiding the truth.”
Rylo didn’t respond, but the weight in his chest grew heavier.
What truth? Rylo wondered.
And what game was she playing?
Lila looked at him, watching the way his eyes scanned the hallway before settling with suspicion. She was rattled. Rylo Bradley was far more perceptive than she'd hoped—and the sharp resemblance between him and those twins had just made things worse.
Her breath caught.
“Could it be?” she thought. “Desire didn’t end up in DJ Jice’s room that night? Could it be that she somehow slipped past the trap?” The realization washed over her like cold water, and her chest tightened with panic. She quickly turned on her heels and hurried out of the building, her heels clicking furiously as she fled like a shadow exposed to the light.
Rylo, from the doorway, silently watched her go. He narrowed his eyes, thoughtful. Something wasn’t adding up. Her reaction hadn’t matched the situation. Her face, her sudden panic. "Is she going crazy" he muttered to himself before shutting the door.
At the sound of the doorbell, Rylo sighed, wondering who could be visiting him again now. The last person he wanted to see was Brooke, but when he opened the door, there she stood.
“Rylo,” she purred, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. “I just wanted to see how you’re settling in.”
Rylo’s eyes narrowed. He’d been dreading this moment.
“What do you want?” he asked coldly.
Brooke’s smile was venomous as she looked at him, standing there with that all-too-familiar air of superiority. “You think you can just waltz back into the family and take everything from us? This is my world, Rylo. Everything here belongs to my children. Don’t forget that.”
He crossed his arms, standing tall, a confident smirk playing on his lips. “You don’t scare me, Brooke. You never did.”
Her eyes flashed with a mix of bitterness and rage. “You’re a fool. You don’t understand what you’re doing. But don’t worry, I’ll remind you soon enough.”
Rylo stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “I’ve always been patient with you, Brooke. I thought, ‘what if you were my mother?’ But the truth is—you’ll never be my mother. You can’t even pretend to be close.”
With a hard edge to his voice, Rylo continued, “So, let me make something very clear. If you ever try to pull any of your schemes again, I will destroy everything you’ve built. Your precious company? I’ll make sure it goes bankrupt overnight. And I’ll buy the shares at a fraction of the price, then watch you and your children starve.” Just then he thought "That company belongs to my mother and I'm the largest shareholder, what if i take back what is mine?"
he laughed triumphantly.
Her face turned pale. She knew he meant every word. She could only leave giving him an awful glare.
As soon as she left, Rylo called the receptionist.
“From this moment forward,” he said coolly, “Brooke Braylor and Lila Nile are banned from this penthouse. If they show up again, call security.”
- Writer
