Inheritance Redefined

Chapter Fourteen

"I was pissed," he said. "You showed up and suddenly Dad was fussing over you and Salvatore was watching you like you were made of glass, and– I don't know. I didn't think. I was an ass."

Elara didn't speak.

"I thought… if I messed with your stuff, you'd leave. Or cry. Or be less perfect. But you didn't.” Elias glanced at her, then looked away again. "I didn't know your contacts were in that box. I thought it was just full of dumb jewelry. Your eyes are cool though. I think it's awesome that you're not hiding them anymore."

The silence stretched.

Then she asked, voice low, "Why now? I mean, why are you apologising to me now?"

"Because after everything that's happened to you, you still came and helped us this morning," he muttered. "You didn't ignore me. After what I did, you still helped me. Nobody on this team has ever given you anything, yet you still came and helped. I'm sorry those officers harassed you like that."

Elara hesitated, then gave a soft, almost invisible nod.

"I don't hate you, Elara, I never did." Elias said. "I'm just still figuring out how to have a sister."

Elara's throat tightened, but she managed a whisper. "I'm still figuring out how to have a brother."

A beat passed.

Then Elias grunted. "Okay. That's enough emotional talk for one day."

She gave a small laugh. "I agree."

He turned and walked off, but just before disappearing into the locker room, he added without turning back, "If you tell anyone I apologised to you, I'll deny it."

Elara blinked, stunned.

That was practically a peace treaty.

And it meant more to Elara than Elias would ever know.

---

By lunch, the buzz of the school had swallowed Elara, distracting her from everything that has happened.

Students were scattered across the sunny courtyard, gossiping, laughing, teasing, flirting. Elara had barely made it through her morning classes – exhaustion still clung to her bones – but she was glad when Anastasia Vasilieva burst through the crowd and threw an arm over her shoulder.

"Elara! I swear if one more person asks if I hacked the vending machines again–"

"You did hack them though."

"Semantics."

Anastasia tugged her toward the garden tables where Olivia was already seated, her blazer crisp and a tiny espresso in  her hand. She looked over the rim of her cup and gave a nod. "Elara. You look less like you were dragged through a warzone than you did this morning."

"I'm healing."

“Good. You'll need that energy. Sleepover. Saturday. Our place." Anastasia cut in.

Elara blinked. "Our?"

"My family's penthouse," Anastasia clarified. "Top floor. Two security systems. Zero boys. I'm talking face masks, trashy shows, and all the gossip I haven't had time to tell you."

"I'm in," Elara said before she could think twice.

"Obviously," Olivia added. "We already had a pillow made for you.”

Just then, two boys approached the table from the direction of the fountain – one was Nico, laughing about something, and the other was unfamiliar.

The stranger had sharp eyes, a sleek watch, and a stride like someone who knew exactly how much trouble he could cause if he felt like it.

Anastasia groaned. "Ugh. Of course. Nikolai. Lara, this is my brother. Brother, this is my best friend Elara Calviero."

Elara felt her cheecks heat and turned.

Her eyes met the boy's – he was 16, maybe, tall like his sister, but quieter. Cooler. Deadlier. He gave a slow nod, eyes flicking over her in a way that wasn't rude, just observant. Calculating.

"You didn't tell me she was real," Nikolai whispered to Nico. "I thought you made her up to feel cool."

"I did not," Nico said, elbowing him, looking offended.

"She's very much real," Anastasia grumbled. "And already ten times more interesting than you."

Nikolai held up his hands in mock surrender. "I was just saying. When Nico started about her eyes she sounded more like his imagination going wild."

He turned to Elara. "You skate, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Figure skating."

"Respect," he said, then looked back at Nico. "You ready for training later?"

"Nah man, we're running extra laps today."

Elara watched them chat. Something about the way Nikolai stood, casual, but practiced – like he belonged in two different worlds and had mastered both.

Anastasia snapped her fingers. "You're not invited, by the way. The sleepover is sacred."

"Wouldn't want to be," Nikolai said with a grin. "I prefer not having glitter in my hair."

"You say that now," Olivia said mildly. "But one day, it'll happen. And you'll love every moment of it."

When the boys finally walked away, Anastasia turned back to Elara. "Ignore him. He's actually the least annoying Vasiliev sibling. But that's not saying much."

Elara laughed. "He seems… okay."

Anastasia gasped. "No. Do not fall for it. He's only playing you." She crossed her arms. "He once helped me carry my lunch bag just so he could hold it hostage and charge me a cookie per minute. Don't be fooled."

Elara laughed so hard she nearly dropped her fork.

Anastasia leaned back, proud. "This is why we need Saturday. We need detox time."

Elara smiled, the warmth settling deeper than it had all week.

She still ached. The cuffs had left marks. Her bones still remembered the cold steel chair, the voices in the interrogation room.

But here – in the sun, with friends and laughter and plans for a sleepover – she remembered something else, she was starting to belong.