When Storms Collide

Chapter 2

I was halfway through dismantling a Beretta M9 in my quarters when the news reached me.

Gianna's message was simple. No frills. *Papa is marrying Catalina Galvez.*

I stared at my phone screen a little longer than I should have. For someone who’s dodged bullets and slit throats in the shadows of cities most people never survive in, it was ironic that this left me stunned.

Catalina Galvez.

The name wasn’t foreign. The Galvez family was known well—our counterparts across seas, enemies to some, allies to others. I’d heard of her children. Armando, the new Spanish mob boss. Valeria, the elegant schemer. Maya, the siren. Federico, the artist with a taste for violence. And Miguel, the boy genius with fists like stone.

But none of them were what made my jaw tighten.

It was the idea of someone else being beside my father. Darius Lucas Reign was many things—a lion, a legend, a myth stitched into the underworld's spine. But to me, he was simply Father. Cold. Calculated. Commanding. But mine.

And now he belonged to someone else.

~~~~~~

The estate felt colder that night. I sat on the rooftop, cigarette burning between my fingers though I didn’t smoke it. Below, I could hear my siblings still murmuring about it, adjusting, discussing logistics and merging routes like it was just another business acquisition.

Maybe it was.

But to me, it felt like the past was being paved over too quickly.

I remembered mother’s funeral. How Father didn’t cry. None of us did. The Reigns weren’t raised to show softness—not even in grief.

And now he was marrying another woman.

I could have tolerated that.

But he wasn’t just marrying anyone.

He was tying us to them.

“Sulking doesn’t suit you.”

I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Flavio. The rooftop door clicked shut behind him.

“Not sulking,” I muttered, flicking ash off the edge. “Just thinking about how fast people forget the dead.”

“Catalina didn’t kill our mother.”

“Didn’t she?” I looked at him now, the burn of emotion simmering low in my voice. “Her existence wipes out ours. We’re not just the Reigns anymore, Flavio. We’re a merged name. A mess.”

“She’s not erasing us. She’s joining us. Strengthening us.”

I scoffed, flicking the cigarette away. “Says the heir who’ll still have a seat at the head.”

He didn’t respond to that.

Because he knew I wasn’t wrong.

Later that night, I sat alone in the training room, blades spinning in my hands, carving through air as if it could answer the questions roaring in my mind.

Who are we now?

And who will I become, in a family that’s no longer just my own?

Because I wasn’t raised to be a daughter in a blended house.

I was raised to be a weapon in one.

But the war was changing.

And maybe—I’d have to, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dining hall of the Reign estate was as grand as whispered in the corridors of influence—crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like frozen stars, casting soft glows on the long mahogany table dressed in fine linen and silverware. Elegance clung to every corner, every gesture rehearsed with years of high-society refinement. But beneath the finery lay tension—thick and unyielding.

The Galvez siblings were the first to arrive.

Armando Rego Galvez stood at the helm, his presence nearly as formidable as a general. Beside him, Valeria Siv examined the artworks lining the hall with a fashion designer’s eye. Maya Elle walked with effortless grace, lips curved in amusement, her charm tightly leashed. Federico Prenz, calm and collected, tapped a finger against his temple, already scanning the security of the room. Miguel Cres kept to the back, observant and quiet.

As they made their way toward the grand estate, a movement outside caught their attention. Their steps slowed.

There, stepping out of a sleek black car, was a woman.

She held her blazer lazily in her left hand, her right casually clutching a cigarette between her fingers. She took one last draw before dropping it to the pavement and crushing it beneath her black Louis Vuitton heels. Her wavy black hair flowed like ink, framing a face both unreadable and striking. Even from a distance, her presence was magnetic—confident, deliberate, unapologetic.

The Galvez siblings couldn’t look away.

“Who’s that supposed to be?” Federico asked, curiosity edging his usually neutral tone.

“Maybe one of the Reign siblings,” Valeria offered, eyes never leaving the mysterious figure. “Or just their close friend.” But even she didn’t sound convinced. No one invited just a friend to a gathering like this.

Maya’s lips curled into a smile. “Whoever she is, she moves like she owns every room she walks into. Gorgeous.”

Before they could linger on their thoughts, a guard approached and opened the estate’s double doors for them. They were ushered inside by a maid with a respectful bow and guided toward the dining area.

Moments later, the Reign siblings entered from a separate hall.

Flavio Cierro Reign, the eldest, walked in first in his dark tailored suit, unreadable as ever. Gianna Issa followed with quiet vigilance, always scanning her surroundings. Ambrose Trez, sharp-eyed and silent, observed every movement. Regina Lira kept a step behind, mischief tucked behind her calm demeanor.

And then Lizandra Davina Reign arrived.

She walked with grace, blazer now draped over her shoulder, her entrance every bit as dramatic as her siblings had come to expect. Calm, unreadable, always two steps ahead.

As they gathered at the edge of the dining hall, another set of footsteps echoed from a third corridor. And then, with an air of quiet revelation, Catalina Mitre Galvez and Darius Lucas Reign entered together—hand in hand.

Time slowed.

Their children froze.

Darius’s gentle smile met each of their gazes in turn. Catalina, radiant and composed, gave a nod as if this moment had been rehearsed in her heart a thousand times.

"This is the moment we've waited for," Catalina began, voice smooth but steady. "Tonight, we introduce our families, not as two separate lines... but as one."

The silence that followed was thick.

Lizandra was the first to step forward. Calm as ever, she met her father’s gaze with quiet assurance.

"Then let us eat," she said, a composed smile forming on her lips. "There’s much to discuss, and much to understand."

And so they gathered at the long table, wine flowing, silverware gleaming. The Reign and Galvez families sat not just as future kin—but as leaders of two empires learning how to share a crown.