Inheritance Redefined

Chapter Twenty-Five

Elara stared at the coach, stunned. "Wait, you want me to skate? Like... perform? Before the game? Here?"

"What else would you do on ice? Host a bake sale?" he deadpanned, then added, "Your skating coach thinks it's a brilliant idea. Already cleared it."

Elara's eyebrows lifted, voice catching somewhere between disbelief and confusion. "Coach Marchesi said yes?"

"She said - and I quote - 'It would be good for her. She needs a stage before she forgets she deserves one.'"

Elara's mouth opened, then closed again.

Coach Garcia didn't give her time to second-guess.

"You're fast. Clean. You've got power in your landings. And people already watch you when you move - might as well give them a reason to cheer. You up for it or not?"

Elara hesitated. Not because she didn't want to, but because it hadn't occurred to her that someone might ask. That someone might see.

"Yeah," she said finally, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile. "I'm up for it."

Coach Garcia nodded once, satisfied.

"Good. Make it count."

He turned and stomped off the ice like he hadn't just turned a quiet morning into something electric for Elara.

She stood there a moment longer, blades still.

And then, slowly, she began to move again - this time, her lines a little sharper, her breath a little lighter.

She was going to perform.

Not for medals. Not for judges.

But for the rink that was slowly, beginning to feel like home.

---

It was midday, and the Calviero mansion was unusually quiet.

Sunlight spilled through the tall windows, casting soft shadows across the marble floors. The scent of fresh peonies drifted in from an open window-Isabella's doing, always insisting on fresh flowers in the foyer. Somewhere deeper in the house, the low hum of a vacuum cleaner could be heard, and from the east wing, faint music played – one of the housekeepers liked old Italian love songs.

Isabella sat curled on the cream linen sofa in her sunlit office, flipping through a series of fabric swatches for a new project she'd been working on. Her phone lay face-down beside her, ignored. She'd been in meetings all morning – client calls, contractor confirmations, and a particularly tiresome discussion with a supplier who'd sent the wrong marble tiles. Still, she wore her usual calm like a second skin – pristine white blouse, high-waisted slacks, hair swept up in a silk tie. She looked elegant.

Meanwhile, Alessandro had claimed the sitting room downstairs. His laptop was open beside a thick folder of estate documents. He leaned back in the leather chair, sleeves rolled to his forearms, reading glasses perched low on his nose. He was relaxed – or at least, as relaxed as the Calviero head ever was.

There was nothing unusual about the day.

Until there was a buzz on the intercom line. From one of the perimeter guards.

"Sir," the guard said. "We have three visitors at the gate. It's the Drakos family... They're asking to come in."

"Let them in." Alessandro sighed.

A heavy knock echoed through the quiet house. Isabella rose slowly, exchanging a brief glance with Alessandro before moving toward the door.

The moment she opened it, she froze. Standing there was an older couple with a younger man she knew all too well.

Isabella's heart pounded in confusion and something unspoken.

"Isabella," the old woman said carefully, "I'm Thalia Drakos. This is my husband Dionysios and my son Leonidas. We've come with news you deserve to hear from us first."

Alessandro stepped forward, face unreadable.

Thalia's voice softened. "We know Leonidas is Elara's biological father. We also know that his ex wife, Verena,  took your baby boy."

Isabella's breath caught. She closed the door behind them and gestured toward the sitting room.

Once they've all sat down, Isabella took a deep breath and started, "Years ago, Verena forced me into a terrible choice. She threatened me, told me if I didn't give her Orion, I'd lose everything and that she'll make sure Orion doesn't survive. I didn't know I was having twins until I gave birth to not one, but two babies. Verena didn't know either. I had to give up Orion, but I couldn't let her take both my children. The guilt I live with every day is unimaginable."

Her voice broke. "I never expected to see my son again."

Alessandro's gaze softened as he looked at her. "You never told me."

"I couldn't," she admitted. "I didn't even know who the father truly was. It was a one night thing and I never even got his name."

Thalia nodded. "Verena kept that secret carefully. We only uncovered it now. The truth is new to all of us."

Leonidas stepped closer, his voice firm. "Orion doesn't know. I'm sure Elara doesn't either. And they deserve the truth, but we have to be careful."

Isabella looked toward the window, a flicker of hope and fear in her eyes. "How do we even begin?"

Thalia met her gaze steadily. "Together. We take this one step at a time."

The room felt heavy with silence for a moment – each of them processing the fragile truth that had just shattered the quiet surface of their lives.

Alessandro finally spoke, his voice low but steady. "This changes everything. Both Orion and Elara's world... we can't let it crumble because of secrets we kept."

Isabella nodded, swallowing hard. "She trusts me. But this... this is bigger than any of us."

Leonidas glanced at Thalia, then back to Alessandro and Isabella. "We need a plan. To tell both twins carefully – without overwhelming them. Their still just children."

Thalia's gaze was sharp. "We'll need to explain everything - the truth about her birth, the lies we lived under, Verena's threats."

Dionysios added quietly, "And how much she is loved. They both are. By all of us. No matter what."

Isabella took a deep breath. "We'll do it. For Elara. And for Orion"

Isabella started crying, "Am I going to see my baby boy again?"

Alessandro nodded at her with a sad smile, "Yes darling, you are."

The room fell into silence again, thick as velvet.

Isabella's knuckles whitened on the edge of the sofa.

"How do we even begin to tell them?"

Thalia looked toward the tall windows, where sunlight spilled across the floor like gold thread.

"Carefully," she murmured. "Because what we say next will change everything."

Down a long hallway, the grandfather clock struck one.

School would be out soon.