Beneath The Ashes - Chapter 2: Chapter 2
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Ivy
Smiles fix everything. Or at least, that's what I've always told myself.
I kneel on the cold marble floor, scrubbing at a stain that refuses to disappear. My hands ache, raw from the cleaning solution seeping into my cracked skin, but I don't stop. If I can just get this floor to shine, maybe he won't yell. Maybe Mom will look at me for once. Maybe tonight won't end with the usual silence.
The rag slips from my fingers, and I sit back on my heels, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. My reflection stares back at me in the polished surface — a girl with tired eyes, flushed cheeks, and a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. I force it wider. There. Perfect.
I've lived in this house for six years. I was fifteen when Mom married him. Marcus Vitalo. He swept in like a storm, all charm and expensive suits, promising a better life. I should've known better. The house is a mansion, but it feels more like a prison. The kind of place where the walls echo with secrets.
Marcus doesn't work. Money just... appears. Sometimes men come by in dark suits. They never smile. Marcus drinks.And when he drinks, he gets mean. Not the kind of mean that leaves bruises, but the kind that makes you think he could have.
Mom used to be different. Softer. After Dad died, it was like something broke inside her. Marcus filled the space where her heart used to be, and now she barely looks at me. I try not to blame her.
The clock chimes noon, and I push to my feet, wincing at the stiffness in my knees. He will be up soon. I have to make sure everything is perfect. If he finds a speck of dust or a dish out of place... I shake the thought away and move to the kitchen, forcing my hands to stop trembling.
This is my life. Cleaning. Cooking. Smiling. If I just keep smiling, things will be okay. They have to be.
Right?
Massimo's POV
"Drive faster Declan." My voice is quiet, but the command in it is sharp.
The car speeds up, the city blurring past as we close in on our destination. My brothers sit in tense silence around me. Declan watches the road, jaw tight. Zayn taps his fingers against his thigh, a rhythm only he can hear. Jaxon is quiet for once, arms folded, eyes dark. Vale slouches, pretending he doesn't care.
It's been years since we've seen the bastard. Marcus Vitalo. Our father in name only. We should've killed him a long time ago. When he abandoned us, we were just kids. Left to fend for ourselves, clawing our way to the top of the empire he left behind.
We built everything. Every dollar. Every connection. And now we're back. Not because we want to be, but because rumors started swirling.
He's been flaunting money that doesn't belong to him.
But this isn't just about the money. It never was.
Our mother died right after Vale was born. I somewhat still remember her, but I remember the silence that came after. No soft voice singing us to sleep. No gentle hands patching up scraped knees. Just us. Five boys, alone and angry. No softness. No warmth.
We used to ask her about having a sister. Back when we were kids ..every time she got pregnant I used to tell her that it must be a girl this time— that was before the world turned us cold. We wanted someone to protect, someone who'd remind us that not everything was dark. But dreams like that die fast.
Now, we don't seek softness. There's no point. Love, tenderness... those things don't survive in the world we live in. We made sure of that.
Still, we're different in our own ways.
Declan is the quiet one. Controlled. He doesn't say much, but when he does, people listen. His silence is a weapon sharper than any blade.
Zayn... Zayn is the wild card. Unpredictable. One second he's laughing, the next he's got a gun to someone's head. He hides his darkness behind charm, but we all know what lurks beneath.
Jaxon is cold. He's the one who cleans up our messes — and makes sure there are no loose ends. There's a darkness in him that even I don't fully understand.
Vale... my youngest brother. He pretends he doesn't care, but I see the anger simmering beneath the surface. He grew up with nothing but shadows, and it made him sharp. Ruthless.
And me? I'm the leader. The one who kept us alive when no one else would. My brothers are my purpose. My only reason for breathing.
But Marcus took everything from when we were barely surviving And now we're here to take it back.
"We should've done this years ago," Zayn mutters, his voice low.
"We were kids," Declan says quietly. "We survived."
"But now?" Jaxon's voice is sharp. "Now we make him pay. not suddenly but slowly."
I nod once. No one argues. We don't need to.
The house looms ahead — cold, lifeless. The kind of place where secrets rot.Declan stops the car, and we step out, shadows slipping into the daylight.
Ivy's POV
The front door slams open, and I nearly drop the dish I'm holding. My heart leaps into my throat, hands tightening around the rag as heavy footsteps echo through the house.
Five men stride into the house like they own it. They move with a quiet kind of danger, each step measured and deliberate. My breath catches as they come into view, shadows slipping into the light.
They're... strong. In a dark, terrifying way.
The tallest one leads the group, his dark eyes scanning the room like a predator surveying his territory. His presence alone is enough to make the air feel heavier. His sharp jaw is dusted with stubble, and his suit fits like a second skin, the fabric doing nothing to hide the lethal strength beneath.
Behind him, another man walks silently, his gaze sharp and unreadable. His dark hair falls slightly into his eyes, and there's something almost wolfish about him — controlled power just waiting to snap.
The third one has a kind of cold elegance to him. Blond hair, ice-blue eyes. His face is a mask, expressionless, but his gaze is sharp, like he sees every weakness, every flaw.
Then there's the one with a lazy smirk curling at his lips. His dark hair is tousled like he just rolled out of bed, but there's nothing relaxed about the way he moves. His eyes flicker with something dangerous, like he's daring the world to push him too far.
The last one lingers behind the others, arms folded across his chest. He's younger, closer to my age, but there's a hardness in his gaze that makes my stomach twist. His jaw tightens as his eyes land on me, something unreadable flickering across his face.
They freeze when they see me. For a long moment, no one moves.
I swallow, forcing my voice to work. "Can... Can I help you?"
The leader's gaze locks onto mine, dark and intense. "Who are you?"
His voice is quiet, but it feels like a command. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My mind races, searching for the right words. My heart pounds so loudly I swear they can hear it.
Finally, I manage to whisper, "I'm Ivy."
The blond one frowns. "Ivy?" He glances at the others. "Marcus has a maid now?"
"I'm not... I mean..." I force a shaky breath, summoning the only weapon I have. My smile. "I live here."
Their silence is deafening. The leader's eyes darken. "You live here?"
I nod, the smile plastered on my face starting to tremble. "Yes. He is my mom's boyfriend and
my stepfather."
The air shifts. The men exchange looks, and something cold settles in my stomach.
"The bastard never mentioned having a stepdaughter," the one with the lazy smirk mutters, his gaze raking over me like I'm a puzzle he can't quite solve.
"Of course, he didn't," the youngest one says quietly, voice sharp.
The leader steps forward, and I fight the urge to shrink back. His presence is overwhelming, like he could crush me with a single word.
"We're his sons." His voice is low, almost a growl. "Massimo Vitalo." He gestures to the others. "Declan. Zayn. Jaxon. Vale."
Sons. Marcus's sons. My stepbrothers.
I stare at them, mouth dry. He never mentioned having sons. Not once.
Massimo's eyes narrow. "How long have you been here?"
"Six years," I whisper. "Since he started dating my mom."
Their expressions darken. Zayn curses under his breath. Vale's jaw tightens. Declan's gaze sweeps over me, taking in the rag in my hands, the worn clothes, the way I keep shifting my weight like my knees hurt.
"You clean for him?" Declan's voice is soft, but there's steel beneath it.
I hesitate. Lying feels pointless. "Yes."
Massimo's expression hardens, his hands curling into fists. "And your mother?"
I look away, blinking rapidly. "She... doesn't notice much."
Something shifts in the room — a dark, quiet kind of fury that makes the air crackle. The brothers exchange looks, and I can feel the weight of their unspoken words.
"We came here to confront Marcus," vale mutters, eyes narrowing. "But it looks like we found something more interesting."
I shrink back instinctively, but Massimo's gaze softens. Just a little. His dark eyes flicker across the room, landing on the threadbare couch, the cracked tiles, the empty shelves.
"Apart from those two. You don't have anyone here?" Massimo's voice is quiet.
I hesitate, glancing toward the floor. "Umm yeah, It's not so bad."
No one speaks. The silence stretches long and heavy. When I finally look up, I find five pairs of eyes locked on me — dark, unreadable, and burning with something I can't quite name.
Smiles fix everything. Or at least, that's what I've always told myself.
I kneel on the cold marble floor, scrubbing at a stain that refuses to disappear. My hands ache, raw from the cleaning solution seeping into my cracked skin, but I don't stop. If I can just get this floor to shine, maybe he won't yell. Maybe Mom will look at me for once. Maybe tonight won't end with the usual silence.
The rag slips from my fingers, and I sit back on my heels, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. My reflection stares back at me in the polished surface — a girl with tired eyes, flushed cheeks, and a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. I force it wider. There. Perfect.
I've lived in this house for six years. I was fifteen when Mom married him. Marcus Vitalo. He swept in like a storm, all charm and expensive suits, promising a better life. I should've known better. The house is a mansion, but it feels more like a prison. The kind of place where the walls echo with secrets.
Marcus doesn't work. Money just... appears. Sometimes men come by in dark suits. They never smile. Marcus drinks.And when he drinks, he gets mean. Not the kind of mean that leaves bruises, but the kind that makes you think he could have.
Mom used to be different. Softer. After Dad died, it was like something broke inside her. Marcus filled the space where her heart used to be, and now she barely looks at me. I try not to blame her.
The clock chimes noon, and I push to my feet, wincing at the stiffness in my knees. He will be up soon. I have to make sure everything is perfect. If he finds a speck of dust or a dish out of place... I shake the thought away and move to the kitchen, forcing my hands to stop trembling.
This is my life. Cleaning. Cooking. Smiling. If I just keep smiling, things will be okay. They have to be.
Right?
Massimo's POV
"Drive faster Declan." My voice is quiet, but the command in it is sharp.
The car speeds up, the city blurring past as we close in on our destination. My brothers sit in tense silence around me. Declan watches the road, jaw tight. Zayn taps his fingers against his thigh, a rhythm only he can hear. Jaxon is quiet for once, arms folded, eyes dark. Vale slouches, pretending he doesn't care.
It's been years since we've seen the bastard. Marcus Vitalo. Our father in name only. We should've killed him a long time ago. When he abandoned us, we were just kids. Left to fend for ourselves, clawing our way to the top of the empire he left behind.
We built everything. Every dollar. Every connection. And now we're back. Not because we want to be, but because rumors started swirling.
He's been flaunting money that doesn't belong to him.
But this isn't just about the money. It never was.
Our mother died right after Vale was born. I somewhat still remember her, but I remember the silence that came after. No soft voice singing us to sleep. No gentle hands patching up scraped knees. Just us. Five boys, alone and angry. No softness. No warmth.
We used to ask her about having a sister. Back when we were kids ..every time she got pregnant I used to tell her that it must be a girl this time— that was before the world turned us cold. We wanted someone to protect, someone who'd remind us that not everything was dark. But dreams like that die fast.
Now, we don't seek softness. There's no point. Love, tenderness... those things don't survive in the world we live in. We made sure of that.
Still, we're different in our own ways.
Declan is the quiet one. Controlled. He doesn't say much, but when he does, people listen. His silence is a weapon sharper than any blade.
Zayn... Zayn is the wild card. Unpredictable. One second he's laughing, the next he's got a gun to someone's head. He hides his darkness behind charm, but we all know what lurks beneath.
Jaxon is cold. He's the one who cleans up our messes — and makes sure there are no loose ends. There's a darkness in him that even I don't fully understand.
Vale... my youngest brother. He pretends he doesn't care, but I see the anger simmering beneath the surface. He grew up with nothing but shadows, and it made him sharp. Ruthless.
And me? I'm the leader. The one who kept us alive when no one else would. My brothers are my purpose. My only reason for breathing.
But Marcus took everything from when we were barely surviving And now we're here to take it back.
"We should've done this years ago," Zayn mutters, his voice low.
"We were kids," Declan says quietly. "We survived."
"But now?" Jaxon's voice is sharp. "Now we make him pay. not suddenly but slowly."
I nod once. No one argues. We don't need to.
The house looms ahead — cold, lifeless. The kind of place where secrets rot.Declan stops the car, and we step out, shadows slipping into the daylight.
Ivy's POV
The front door slams open, and I nearly drop the dish I'm holding. My heart leaps into my throat, hands tightening around the rag as heavy footsteps echo through the house.
Five men stride into the house like they own it. They move with a quiet kind of danger, each step measured and deliberate. My breath catches as they come into view, shadows slipping into the light.
They're... strong. In a dark, terrifying way.
The tallest one leads the group, his dark eyes scanning the room like a predator surveying his territory. His presence alone is enough to make the air feel heavier. His sharp jaw is dusted with stubble, and his suit fits like a second skin, the fabric doing nothing to hide the lethal strength beneath.
Behind him, another man walks silently, his gaze sharp and unreadable. His dark hair falls slightly into his eyes, and there's something almost wolfish about him — controlled power just waiting to snap.
The third one has a kind of cold elegance to him. Blond hair, ice-blue eyes. His face is a mask, expressionless, but his gaze is sharp, like he sees every weakness, every flaw.
Then there's the one with a lazy smirk curling at his lips. His dark hair is tousled like he just rolled out of bed, but there's nothing relaxed about the way he moves. His eyes flicker with something dangerous, like he's daring the world to push him too far.
The last one lingers behind the others, arms folded across his chest. He's younger, closer to my age, but there's a hardness in his gaze that makes my stomach twist. His jaw tightens as his eyes land on me, something unreadable flickering across his face.
They freeze when they see me. For a long moment, no one moves.
I swallow, forcing my voice to work. "Can... Can I help you?"
The leader's gaze locks onto mine, dark and intense. "Who are you?"
His voice is quiet, but it feels like a command. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My mind races, searching for the right words. My heart pounds so loudly I swear they can hear it.
Finally, I manage to whisper, "I'm Ivy."
The blond one frowns. "Ivy?" He glances at the others. "Marcus has a maid now?"
"I'm not... I mean..." I force a shaky breath, summoning the only weapon I have. My smile. "I live here."
Their silence is deafening. The leader's eyes darken. "You live here?"
I nod, the smile plastered on my face starting to tremble. "Yes. He is my mom's boyfriend and
my stepfather."
The air shifts. The men exchange looks, and something cold settles in my stomach.
"The bastard never mentioned having a stepdaughter," the one with the lazy smirk mutters, his gaze raking over me like I'm a puzzle he can't quite solve.
"Of course, he didn't," the youngest one says quietly, voice sharp.
The leader steps forward, and I fight the urge to shrink back. His presence is overwhelming, like he could crush me with a single word.
"We're his sons." His voice is low, almost a growl. "Massimo Vitalo." He gestures to the others. "Declan. Zayn. Jaxon. Vale."
Sons. Marcus's sons. My stepbrothers.
I stare at them, mouth dry. He never mentioned having sons. Not once.
Massimo's eyes narrow. "How long have you been here?"
"Six years," I whisper. "Since he started dating my mom."
Their expressions darken. Zayn curses under his breath. Vale's jaw tightens. Declan's gaze sweeps over me, taking in the rag in my hands, the worn clothes, the way I keep shifting my weight like my knees hurt.
"You clean for him?" Declan's voice is soft, but there's steel beneath it.
I hesitate. Lying feels pointless. "Yes."
Massimo's expression hardens, his hands curling into fists. "And your mother?"
I look away, blinking rapidly. "She... doesn't notice much."
Something shifts in the room — a dark, quiet kind of fury that makes the air crackle. The brothers exchange looks, and I can feel the weight of their unspoken words.
"We came here to confront Marcus," vale mutters, eyes narrowing. "But it looks like we found something more interesting."
I shrink back instinctively, but Massimo's gaze softens. Just a little. His dark eyes flicker across the room, landing on the threadbare couch, the cracked tiles, the empty shelves.
"Apart from those two. You don't have anyone here?" Massimo's voice is quiet.
I hesitate, glancing toward the floor. "Umm yeah, It's not so bad."
No one speaks. The silence stretches long and heavy. When I finally look up, I find five pairs of eyes locked on me — dark, unreadable, and burning with something I can't quite name.
End of Beneath The Ashes Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to Beneath The Ashes book page.