SHADOWLESS LOVE

Standing on the second-floor balcony of the Ivanova Mansion, Erika—known to the world as Ivelle Ivanova—watched the long line of black Valentino cars disappear one by one. Her nails dug into the cold, wrought iron railing as her heart thudded painfully in her chest.

Then, just before he got into his car, Aeron Valentino turned around.

Their eyes met.

It was as if the world stopped. The air grew heavy between them, the shared gaze suffused with unspoken words and lingering memories. Erika's breath hitched as a thousand emotions she had desperately tried to bury came crashing down. Her knuckles whitened as she clenched the railing tighter.

Aeron smiled—a small, faint smile that sent a piercing ache straight through her heart. And then he turned away, stepping into his car and vanishing beyond the grand iron gates.

As the last car disappeared, Erika collapsed to her knees, clutching her chest as if trying to hold her shattering heart together. Her tears fell freely, tracing hot trails down her cheeks. A storm of anguish and longing now replaced the emptiness that had defined her for the last ten years.

Her sapphire-blue eyes, usually devoid of emotion, now brimmed with so much pain that anyone who saw her would have said only one thing: She was breaking.

A soft, tender voice came from behind her, laced with concern and fatherly warmth.

"If it's too hard, you shouldn't push yourself so much, dear."

She didn't turn. She didn't need to. She knew it was Jonathan Ivanova, the man who had become her anchor when her world crumbled.

"I think…" Her voice broke, trembling under the weight of her sobs. "I think I'll be okay."

But the lie shattered as soon as it left her lips. Erika looked up, her face streaked with tears and smiled—a smile so full of pain it was almost unbearable to witness.

"But my eyes met him" she whispered, her voice trembling with regret and desperation. "I just wanted to run into his embrace, Jonathan. Just once."

Jonathan's heart clenched at the rawness of her confession. He felt a pang of helplessness, knowing he could never take her pain away. Kneeling beside her, ignoring the sharp protest of his old injury, he placed a comforting hand on her head.

"Why didn't you?" he asked softly. "He recognized you at first glance, didn't he? He called you by your real name, Erika."

Her bitter laugh cut through the stillness of the night. She held up her hand, staring at the crimson diamond ring on her finger—the only remnant of her old life as Erika Patrio.

"But what's the point?" Her voice cracked, her lips trembling as more tears fell. "What does it matter if he recognized me? Erika is nobody to him now."

Jonathan swallowed hard, his throat tightening. She was right—no one could understand what Aeron Valentino truly felt for Erika Patrio. Not him, not her, not even the man himself, it seemed.

"Shouldn't you try to find out?" he ventured cautiously, his voice barely above a whisper.

Erika's bitter chuckle sent a chill through him. "Find out what, Jonathan? That I was nothing more than a fleeting obligation to him? That I was never important enough for him to care?"

Her voice grew harsher, laced with heartbreak and resentment. "If I had meant anything to him, he would have sought justice for me. But instead…" Her words faltered as a sob wracked her body. "Instead, he made plans to take over Helheim and crown himself king."

Jonathan's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. What could he say to counter her truth? Aeron's actions had spoken louder than any words ever could.

"If he had fallen in love with someone else, I could have understood," Erika continued, her voice trembling with raw emotion. "I could have found a reason to let go. But no… he confessed that neither he nor the mother of his child had feelings for each other."

She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails broke the skin, drawing blood. Yet she didn't flinch. "So why, Jonathan? Why didn't he ever do anything for me? Was I just a convenient placeholder in his life? Nothing more than a fleeting marriage partner?"

Jonathan reached out, pulling her into a protective embrace. Her sobs grew louder, more desperate, her pain spilling out in waves that he felt in his very bones.

"It's okay, dear," he murmured, stroking her hair gently. "It's okay to let it out. I'm here."

But Erika pulled away, her tear-streaked face a picture of devastation. "Why am I like this, Jon?" she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Why do I still love him, even knowing how little I meant to him? Why does it hurt so much?"

Jonathan cupped her face, his hands steady despite the turmoil in his own heart. "The heart wants what it wants, my dear," he said softly, his voice heavy with sorrow.

"But I don't want it to want him," she whispered, her pain palpable in every word. "I don't have the strength to keep loving him, Jon. I don't want to be hurt anymore."

Her voice broke as she choked on her tears. "I have to be strong. Because if I don't—if I learn the truth about his connection to the person who took everything from me—I'll die before I can take my revenge."

Jonathan's heart sank, the weight of her anguish pressing down on him. He shook his head, gripping her face firmly but tenderly.

"Listen to me, Erika," he said, his voice steady and resolute. "You've endured more than anyone ever should. You've walked through hell and come out stronger. You will succeed, no matter what. And you're not alone. You have me. Always."

His unwavering warmth finally broke through her defenses. Erika's sobs softened, and she leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the only family she had left.

As the stars glimmered faintly in the night sky above them, Jonathan held her close, silently vowing to stand by her side until the very end.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke the moment. A teasing voice, light yet commanding, cut through the air.

"What, you? Am I dead, or is this some afterlife, Dad? Why would she only have you?" a teasing female voice cut through the air, light and casual, but with an undertone that demanded attention. Which belonged to Jonathan's only daughter also the one who pissed him at any given moment, Evely Ivanova.

She leaned casually against the frame, her vibrant pink hair catching the glow of the chandelier inside.

Her outfit was as bold as her personality: a sleek, tailored blazer in deep burgundy with golden accents that shimmered subtly when she moved, paired with high-waisted black trousers and polished ankle boots. Around her neck, a delicate chain held a single ruby pendant that matched the sharp red gloss on her lips. Her style was unapologetically modern, yet it carried an understated sophistication that reminded everyone she was an Ivanova—a force to be reckoned with in any room she entered.

"Well, if you two are done being dramatic," Evely said, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from her sleeve, "shall we eat? Or do I need to babysit the both of you?"

Jonathan rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the faint twitch of amusement at the corner of his lips. "If anyone needs babysitting, it's you, Evely. The way you run your mouth, it's a miracle you're still breathing."

Evely gasped theatrically, clutching her chest as if she'd been mortally wounded. "Me? Run my mouth? Father, how could you accuse your darling daughter of such slander?" She turned to Erika, a playful twinkle in her eye. "You believe me, don't you, youngest? I'm innocent, aren't I?"

Erika blinked, caught off guard by Evelyn's sudden focus on her. She hesitated, then gave a small, shy nod. "Y-Yes… innocent."

Evely laughed, her voice ringing like wind chimes in the night air. "See, Dad? Even the youngest knows who the real troublemaker is."

Jonathan shook his head, muttering something under his breath about children being his eternal punishment, but his tone was light. The tension that had filled the balcony earlier was dissipating, replaced by an easy warmth that Erika found both comforting and fragile.

As Evely turned and gestured for Erika to follow her inside, Erika couldn't help but notice how effortlessly her sister carried herself. There was confidence in every step Evely took, a magnetic energy that drew people to her. Yet, beneath that confidence, Erika thought she caught glimpses of something deeper—perhaps a fierce protectiveness, or maybe just the unyielding love of an older sibling.

Erika trailed behind them, her movements quieter, more reserved. She listened to Evely and Jonathan bantering as they walked through the halls of Ivanova Mansion, their voices blending into a symphony of familial warmth.

But as much as she wanted to laugh along with them, there was a weight in her chest she couldn't shake. Every affectionate word, every playful jab, every moment of connection—it filled her with a raw, aching desire.

Is this what family feels like? she wondered, her hands brushing against the cool banister as they descended the grand staircase. The longing was almost unbearable.

Yet, alongside that desire was a darker, more insidious fear.

What if I lose them too?

The thought crept into her mind like a shadow, unwelcome but persistent. She had lost so much already—her family, her name, her home, her very identity. The Ivanovas were all she had left, and even though she knew she wasn't truly one of them, the thought of losing them terrified her more than she could admit.

Jonathan's cane tapped rhythmically against the marble floor, a grounding sound that pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced at him, at the way he carried himself despite the weight of his years and responsibilities. And then at Evely, whose laughter echoed through the halls as she teased their father mercilessly.

They were hers now, even if only for a borrowed moment in time.

As they reached the dining hall, Evely turned back, catching Erika's gaze. Her foxy grey eyes softened, and she smiled warmly. "Come on, youngest. You can't let Dad and me eat all the food, can you?"

Erika nodded silently, her lips curling into the faintest of smiles.

She wasn't ready to let them go. Not now. Not yet.