Damien Storm was looking at a picture. It was a cherished photograph of him with the twins, the joyous moments frozen in time. Blake clung to his left leg, while Brielle nestled on the other side. A small tear traced down Damien's face, an involuntary expression of the deep yearning and pain that had haunted him in their absence.
He missed them immensely, and every day without them felt like an eternity. The wound in his heart had been inflicted by the actions of his selfish wife who had callously taken them away from him.
His family, once a cohesive unit, had been shattered. Determined to reunite his broken family, Damien spared no effort. He had established a special team, committed to the relentless pursuit of finding Blake and Brielle. Each day brought new leads, new hopes, and a steadfast determination that fueled his tireless quest. Yet, the void left by their absence persisted, a constant ache in his heart.
A knock on the door interrupted Damien's contemplation. "Sir," Ethan, his lead investigator, announced.
"Come in," Damien responded in a cold voice, wiping away the tear. The room, typically a place of authority, now bore the weight of a father's anguish.
"Sir, we found something," Ethan began. "There has been a woman and her husband under our investigation for a while. We had reason to believe he was running a drug ring. So we stormed his house."
Eager to know more, Damien inquired, "What did you find?"
"I think you'll want to call the boys," Ethan hinted, knowing the gravity of the revelation.
"Ok," Damien said, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for his phone. He sent out a group chat, summoning everyone to his office. Soon, his kids gathered, a mix of concern and anticipation etched on their faces. Ethan, always wary of the brothers, masked his fear with a brave demeanor.
"We found something on the twins," Damien declared, and an uneasy tension settled over the room.
"What, Father?" Vincent asked, the gravity of the situation palpable in his voice.
"I'll let Ethan explain," Damien said, directing the attention towards his lead investigator.
Ethan took a deep breath before divulging the shocking information. "We had a lead on your mother. She changed her name to Bertha Stone. She married a guy named Kaiden Johnson. They were said to have a perfect family. They had two kids with them from what we saw. When we had enough information, we stormed the house."
The room fell into a stunned silence. It was Jonathan, the youngest, who broke the oppressive stillness. "Are they okay?"
"Yes, but," Ethan hesitated, interrupted by the urgent inquiries of the brothers.
"But what? Why are we not going to them?" Victor asked, his concern masked by a steely determination.
"There's something you should know," Ethan continued, preparing them for the harsh reality that awaited.
"What?" Damien pressed.
"They seemed to have a hard life. When we stormed the house, they were in the basement with chains around their legs. From what we gathered, they were punished for every little mistake. Your daughter, Miss Brielle, had a set of rules called 'how to be a perfect girl.' Mr. Blake had a set of rules on how to be a perfect boy."
The room grew heavy with the weight of this revelation. Vincent's voice, now cold, cut through the air, "What would happen if you broke these rules?"
"They would be punished. Not allowed to eat or be hit by a belt. We don't know what else. They were also taught from a young age not to show emotion," Ethan disclosed, his voice heavy with sadness.
"Like at all?" Oliver, the fourth born, asked, seeking to comprehend the extent of the twins' ordeal.
"Yes, when we found them, they showed no emotion. Their faces have been stone cold. They also seem to have never left the house. Their mother and stepfather controlled every aspect of their lives," Ethan revealed.
"Where are they now?" Oscar asked, unable to conceal the urgency in his voice.
"They are at the police station," Ethan replied.
"Thank you, Ethan," Damien acknowledged, and with that, Ethan left the room, leaving behind a lingering silence.
"Vincent, Victor, Oscar," Damien addressed, his voice breaking the quiet.
"Yes, Dad?" they responded in unison.
"You are coming with me. Oliver, you are in charge. Make sure their rooms are ready. We have updated them, so they should be good. Jackson and Jonathan, be good. We are going to get our little ones back," Damien declared, signaling the beginning of a journey to reclaim what had been lost.
The oldest Storms found themselves on their private plane, the air thick with a mix of emotions. Vincent and Victor grappled with discomfort, while Damien and Oscar seemed more at ease. Breaking the silence, Oscar ventured, "What do you think they look like?"
"Blake is going to be handsome, and Brielle will be beautiful," Victor stated with confidence. "Yeah, they are Storms," Oscar affirmed.
"We will be landing in a few minutes," the flight attendant announced, prompting a shuffle of emotions among the brothers. Excitement, nervousness, and anger brewed within them, fueled by the uncertainty of the twins' condition and the resentment toward their so-called parents.
Upon landing, waiting cars signaled their preparedness. The drive to the police station was quiet, each occupant lost in their thoughts and emotions.
Entering the station, they were greeted by Ethan, who had taken an early flight to join them. "Sir, your children are just in the room over there. Be warned, they are still in their PJs but have coats on them. They also have their stuff," Ethan informed them, leading the way.
Stopping in front of the room, Ethan said, "Here they are," and left to give them some space. Damien stood in front of the door, hand hovering over the doorknob, a moment pregnant with anticipation.
Behind this door were his children, his babies, who had endured unimaginable hardships. Taking a deep breath, Damien opened the door, with the three oldest following behind him.
Walking into the room, Damien stood in the middle, Vincent and Victor coming up to stand beside him on his left. Oscar, the last one, closed the door and stood by his right side.
They stared at the twins, still wearing their PJs, who were sitting on a couch. "You must be our father," Blake said.
"Yes, you must be Blake," Damien replied, approaching them for a closer look. Blake extended his hand, "Yes, sir, nice to meet you."
"Please call me Dad or Damien, whichever you guys are comfortable with," Damien said, shaking Blake's hand. Vincent's earlier assessment was spot-on - Blake was undeniably handsome, inheriting the distinct Storm family features. Damien then turned his attention to Brielle, with her dark auburn hair, almost red, and her striking green eyes that resembled emeralds. She was beautiful.
"This must be Brielle," Damien said, and Blake introduced her, "Yes, excuse her; she's really shy." Observing the scene, Blake asked, "Are those our older brothers?"
"Yes," Damien confirmed. "Boys, introduce yourselves."
"Hi, my name is Vincent. I am 27 years old," Vincent said, his deep voice resonating in the room.
"I'm Victor. I'm 26," Victor added, offering a friendly smile.
"I'm Oscar. I'm 21," Oscar introduced himself, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
"Nice to meet you," Blake replied, his voice carrying a stoic calm that mirrored his expression.
Ethan's warning about the twins' emotional reserve became evident as they spoke. Blake and Brielle remained statuesque, their faces revealing little about the tumultuous experiences they had endured.
"Now we better be going," Damien said, his authoritative tone prompting the twins to action. "Now, kids, where are your bags?" he asked.
Blake and Brielle stood up, moving gracefully to two chairs where they had placed a small suitcase and a backpack each.
"Is that all?" Oscar inquired, a tinge of concern in his voice as he noticed the sparse luggage.
The twins shook their heads, a silent acknowledgment that their possessions were meager, a stark reminder of the life they had left behind.
"Alright, let's go," Damien said, taking both their suitcases with a protective grip. Brielle, however, paused and walked over to the couch, where she picked up a pot with a lavender flower delicately blooming.
"Do you like flowers?" Vincent asked, attempting to bring a glimmer of warmth into the interaction.
"Yes, Brielle loves flowers and plants. She has always wanted a garden," Blake replied, his words revealing a subtle longing for something more.
"Well, we have to get you a garden," Damien declared, a hint of determination in his voice.
Brielle nodded, cradling the pot carefully, and they all made their way out of the room. Oscar and Damien took charge of their bags, carrying them with a sense of responsibility that mirrored their commitment to helping the twins.
As they stepped outside, they found Ethan waiting for them, his presence a reassuring sight.
"Good to see you're getting ready to go," Ethan greeted them, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and understanding.
"Can't thank you enough," Vincent expressed, extending his hand in gratitude.
"Of course, Mr. Storm," Ethan replied, shaking Vincent's hand. "Let me see you guys out." He led the way to the front of the office, and they all paused momentarily.
In an unexpected twist, Kaiden and Bertha, the oppressive figures from the twins' past, were led out in handcuffs. Their eyes locked onto the twins, and they couldn't resist one last attempt to exert control.
"Boy, girl!" Bertha yelled, her voice echoing with a distorted sense of authority. "You must follow the rules!" she insisted as she was dragged away.
"You better!" Kaiden yelled, his tone menacing, even in the face of their apparent defeat.
"Let's go," Damien said, breaking the tension.
They made their way outside, greeted by sleek cars waiting to transport them to a new beginning. Damien, the last to get in, paused before entering, his gaze a mixture of defiance and determination directed at Bertha and Kaiden.
He would get his revenge.