Rain poured over the city in silver sheets. Black luxury SUVs cut through the storm like predators moving through darkness.
One after another.
Six identical vehicles.
Tinted windows.
Armed escorts.
Men with guns.
The reunion venue, a grand hotel rented by Saint Augustine Academy, glowed brightly beneath the stormy sky, filled with soft music, champagne-fueled laughter, and middle-aged alumni pretending life had turned out exactly how they dreamed.
Inside the ballroom, people mingled nervously beneath chandeliers.
Old classmates reunited. Teachers laughed too loudly. Business cards exchanged hands. Women compared jewelry.
Men compared success. Normal people. Normal lives.
The hotel entrance suddenly swung open.
And silence swallowed the room whole.
The first thing they saw was the bodyguards. Massive men in black suits entering with military precision.
Then came the brothers.
Lucien stepped in first, hands in his pockets, expensive black suit fitting him like sin itself. Tattoos disappeared beneath rolled sleeves while his cold gaze swept lazily across the room.
Victor followed beside him with a mocking smile already on his face.
Damian entered next, towering and terrifying, his mere presence enough to make several people physically step backward.
Roman walked in calmly while adjusting his gloves, looking less like a businessman and more like a man who ordered executions before breakfast.
And finally,
Aiden Moretti entered.
The kingpin.
The room froze.
Actually froze.
Wine glasses stopped midair. Conversations died instantly. Someone dropped a champagne flute. The sound shattered through the silence.
Nobody moved.
Nobody breathed.
Every single person in that ballroom now knew exactly who the Moretti brothers were.
Not rich heirs anymore.
Not violent teenagers.
Not spoiled boys.
No.
These were the men whispered about in newspapers and political circles. The underworld kings. The monsters behind disappearing politicians, burned companies, vanished rivals, and bodies that were never found.
People feared saying their names too loudly. And now those same devils stood inside a harmless high school reunion.
Victor looked around slowly.
Then burst out laughing.
"Oh my God," he mocked loudly. "They still look terrified."
Damian smirked darkly.
"Just like high school."
A teacher near the stage visibly paled.
Lucien noticed immediately.
"Look," he said amusedly. "Mr. Laurent still shakes when he sees us."
The old teacher stiffened instantly. His face lost all color.
Back in high school, Mr. Laurent once caught Damian beating another student unconscious behind the gym.
The next day Mr. Laurent apologized to them.
Not because they were innocent.
Because he was scared.
Roman tilted his head slightly.
"He aged horribly."
Victor grinned wickedly.
"Fear does that."
People immediately looked away when the brothers' eyes moved across the room. No one dared approach first. No one even knew what expression to make.
Shock?
Fear?
Respect?
One woman whispered shakily to her husband.
"Oh my God... that's Aiden Moretti..."
Her husband grabbed her arm immediately.
"Don't stare."
Aiden heard it.
Of course he did.
His lips curled slightly.
Power looked good on him.
The principal hurried forward nervously, nearly tripping over himself.
"M-Mr. Moretti," he stammered. "What an honor..."
Victor snorted.
"Honor?"
Lucien laughed.
"You used to suspend us every week."
The principal forced a weak laugh.
"Teenage boys are difficult sometimes..."
Damian stepped closer slowly. The principal immediately stopped breathing properly.
"But you never suspended us permanently," Damian said softly.
The older man swallowed hard. Because everyone knew why.
Money.
Influence.
Fear.
Even back then, the Moretti family had influence over judges, police officers, and politicians. The school had never been braved enough to touch them.
Aiden casually removed his gloves.
"We're not here for speeches."
The principal nodded immediately.
"O-Of course."
Roman's eyes slowly scanned the ballroom.
Searching.
Calculating.
Then he frowned slightly.
"She's not here."
Victor clicked his tongue.
"What a disappointment."
Lucien grabbed a champagne glass from a passing waiter.
"She gets invited and didn't even show up?"
Aiden remained expressionless. But his gaze sharpened subtly. The ballroom was decorated with framed photographs from different graduating years.
Old sports victories.
Dance committees.
Academic achievements.
Happy memories.
The brothers moved through the room slowly like wolves among sheep. People parted instantly to let them pass. Nobody wanted to be near them.
Several former classmates lowered their heads completely. It was as if making eye contact was dangerous. Victor laughed under his breath.
"They're still prey animals."
Damian smirked.
"Pathetic."
One former student finally forced himself to approach.
"N-Nice seeing you again, Aiden."
The man's voice shook visibly.
Aiden stared at him blankly for several seconds.
"What's your name?"
The man froze in humiliation.
Victor almost burst into laughter. "Oh, that's brutal."
"I-I was in your economics class..."
Aiden looked uninterested already.
Roman answered instead.
"Daniel Mercer."
The man looked shocked, Roman remembered.
Roman didn't smile.
"You cried after Lucien broke your nose."
Daniel immediately backed away.
The brothers laughed quietly. Cruelly. Because humiliation entertained them.
Always had.
As they continued walking, their eyes landed on one specific wall. Senior Year Memories. A collection of class photos. The brothers stopped. And for the first time that night, the amusement faded slightly. Because Isabella was there.
Frozen forever in a photograph.
Young.
Soft-faced.
Standing in the middle row with books hugged against her chest. A tiny smile on her lips.
Lucien stared at the picture.
"She looked so innocent."
Victor smirked.
"She was innocent."
Damian scoffed.
"That was the problem."
Aiden's eyes remained fixed on the photograph.
Isabella in the picture looked nothing like the women surrounding powerful men now.
No diamonds.
No arrogance.
No hunger for status.
Just warmth.
Simple warmth.
Roman suddenly noticed something strange.
"That's the only picture."
Silence.
Victor blinked.
"What?"
Roman gestured around the wall.
Every student had multiple photographs displayed.
Sports.
Clubs.
Graduation ceremonies.
Friend groups.
But Isabella,
Only one.
One single class photo.
Nothing else.
Lucien frowned slightly.
"That's odd."
Then someone nearby muttered nervously-
"Well... after the breakup..."
The brothers turned instantly.
A woman stood frozen beside them. Their former classmate.
Terrified, she spoke aloud.
Aiden's gaze locked onto her.
"What about after the breakup?"
The woman swallowed hard.
Nobody spoke.
The entire nearby group became tense immediately.
Victor smiled slowly. Dangerously.
"Answer him."
The woman looked visibly frightened now.
"She... um..."
Damian stepped forward.
And the entire room became colder.
"She what?"
The woman's hands trembled.
"She stopped coming to events."
Silence.
Another classmate finally whispered,
"People bullied her badly."
Lucien's expression hardened faintly. The man continued shakily.
"After you left her..."
Nobody breathed; the room understood instantly that this was dangerous territory. But the man kept talking anyway.
"People said horrible things. Called her delusional for thinking she could date Aiden Moretti seriously."
Another voice joined quietly.
"Girls were jealous of her."
"One teacher leaked private rumors."
"Parents told their kids not to associate with her anymore."
"She used to eat lunch alone."
Victor's mocking smile faded slightly.
The room stayed silent except for rain hitting the windows.
Aiden's expression remained unreadable. But something dark shifted behind his eyes.
The woman whispered softly, "She disappeared before graduation ended."
No one knew why those words made the room suddenly feel heavier.
Lucien looked back at Isabella's photograph.
Still smiling softly in that picture. Still looking at the camera with gentle eyes. Like none of it had happened yet.
Victor clicked his tongue irritably.
"She should've fought back."
Roman answered coldly.
"She was never built for cruelty."
Damian scoffed.
"Then she was weak."
But the word didn't sound as confident this time.
Aiden said nothing.
His gaze stayed fixed on Isabella's face in the photograph.
Young.
Trusting.
Breakable.
But what's done is done; weak people can never survive.
They sat on the table in the middle of the room, and the gathering continued, or at least people tried.
Then suddenly,
The ballroom doors opened.
Every head turned instantly.
Cold wind swept inside.
And someone walked in.
