Beneath The Ashes - Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Ivy
The sound of heavy footsteps echoes through the house. I stop scrubbing, my heart pounding as they descend the stairs. The weight in the air feels heavier with every step they take. When they finally come into view, their expressions are unreadable
Massimo leads the group, his eyes dark and unreadable. The others follow closely behind, each one a wall of quiet strength. I lower my gaze, gripping the rag tightly, unsure of what to say.
Declan steps forward. His expression is calm, but there's something unreadable behind his eyes. He stops in front of me, crouching slightly so we're at eye level.
"You're coming with us." His voice is quiet, steady, like he's already made the decision, and nothing will change his mind.
I blink. "I am sorry, What?"
"You don't need to stay here anymore." Massimo says, his gaze neutral. "You might not be our sister by blood, but that doesn't matter. We're not leaving you behind."
My heart lurches. "I—I dont even know you and... my mom. Ofcourse she won't let me go."
His jaw tightens, but before he can respond, Zayn drops down beside him, resting his forearms on his knees. His grin is lopsided, playful, a sharp contrast to the heavy atmosphere.
"Don't worry, Sunshine.we are not bad people, think of us as your brothers. We just don't want you to leave with these miserable humans." His voice is warm and teasing, cutting through the tension like sunlight breaking through the clouds. "As for your mother, We're a pretty convincing bunch. Besides, you've got five dangerous guys ready to fight for you. I'd say that's a win."
A surprised laugh bursts from my lips, soft and breathless. Zayn winks, and warmth spreads through my chest.
Then the front door swings open.
The sound of heels clicking against the floor makes my stomach drop. My mother strides into the room, her expression twisted with irritation. Her cold eyes land on me first, narrowing at the sight of me still crouched on the floor.
"You're still not done?" Her voice is sharp, cutting through the air like a whip. "Useless girl. Can't even do one thing right. seems like you are asking for hits nowadays"
I flinch, curling in on myself as her words hit me like a slap. How much she can endure now, she will start hitting her too??
I feel the boys tense behind me, the air growing colder. Before I can say anything, Massimo steps forward, his broad frame blocking my mother from view.
"She's done here." His voice is low, dangerous. "We're taking her with us."
My mother blinks, her gaze flicking between him and the others. "Who the hell are you?"
Massimo's expression doesn't change. "Marcus's sons." He spits the words like a curse. "The ones who just took everything back from him."
Something flashed in her eyes but went away quickly, her lips curl in disdain. "Whatt!!. That Useless man." She crosses her arms, sneering at me. "Go on then take her. One less mouth to feed."
The breath leaves my lungs.
My mother? Why, how could—
I stare at her, searching her face for... something. Guilt. A flicker of love. Anything. But there's nothing. Just cold indifference.
My shoulders slump. I don't know why I expected anything different. Maybe some part of me still believed she'd fight for me. That she'd want me.
But she doesn't. She never did.
I look down at the rag in my hands, squeezing it tight to stop the shaking. My heart feels heavy, like a weight pressing against my chest.
Zayn's hand slips into mine. His grip is warm, steady, anchoring me. I glance up. He doesn't say anything. Just gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
"Come on," he says softly, tugging me toward the door. "Let's get out of here."
I hesitate, glancing toward the staircase. "But... my things. My clothes."
Zayn scoffs. "Forget them." His nose wrinkles as he glances around the house. "Whatever's here can stay here. We'll get you new stuff."
I blink. "But—"
"No buts." He grins, bumping his shoulder against mine. "Think of it as a fresh start."
Vale snorts from behind us. "Or a charity case."
Massimo shoots him a dark look, and Vale immediately clamps his mouth shut, scowling.
I glance between them, confusion swirling in my chest. These boys... they're nothing like I expected. They're cold, yes — dangerous, even. But there's something else. Something I can't quite put my finger on.
I take a shaky breath, squeezing Zayn's hand. Maybe he's right. Maybe this is my chance at something new. Something better.
What Am I doing?? Is it the right choice?.. I barely know them
But what if it gets worse in their house. What if he gets worst?
Maybe this is the new start I needed
Without looking back, I step through the door.
The first thing I notice when I step outside is the cars.
Rows of sleek black vehicles line the long driveway, their dark exteriors gleaming under the sunlight. The sight is almost intimidating, like something out of a movie. Each car is identical — tinted windows, polished chrome accents, and an undeniable air of power. I shift nervously, gripping the hem of my oversized shirt as the boys stride past me, moving like shadows against the brightness of the day.
Zayn whistles low, nudging me gently with his elbow. "Impressive, huh?"
I glance at him, wide-eyed. "Do... do you really need this many cars?"
He chuckles, the sound light and easy. "Nah. Just wanted to make a statement." He winks. "Nothing says 'we own you' quite like a convoy of blacked-out cars."
I blink. "Own me?"
"Not you, Sunshine." His smile softens. "Marcus."
Massimo strides ahead, his broad shoulders tense as he approaches the first car. The others follow suit, each one slipping into their roles seamlessly. I watch as Declan heads for the driver's seat of the largest SUV, his movements quiet and purposeful. Massimo takes the passenger seat without a word, his expression unreadable.
"Come on," Zayn says, leading me toward the back door. "You're with us."
I hesitate, glancing over the row of cars. "Where... where are we going?"
"Another state," Zayn answers casually, holding the door open for me. "We don't live around here."
My heart skips a beat. "Another state?"
He shrugs. "It's a long drive."
Panic flickers in my chest, but before I can protest, Jaxon brushes past me, sliding into the backseat with a grunt.
Zayn gives me a little nudge, and I climb in after him, awkwardly squeezing into the middle seat. The leather is cold against my legs, and the space feels smaller with two bodies pressing against either side of me.
Zayn plops down next to me, flashing a grin. "Comfy?"
I swallow, feeling a little trapped. "Uh... sure."
The back door opens again, and Vale pokes his head inside, scowling. "You've got to be kidding me."
Zayn arches a brow. "Problem, baby brother?"
"There's no room." Vale gestures dramatically at the cramped backseat. "Where the hell am I supposed to sit?"
Zayn leans back, stretching his arms behind his head. "There's plenty of room."
"Not for me." Vale scowls, crossing his arms. "Why do I have to sit in the back?"
"Because you're the youngest," Jaxon says flatly, not even glancing up.
Vale glares at him. "That doesn't make sense."
Jaxon finally turns, pinning him with a cold stare. "It does to me."
Vale opens his mouth to argue, but I shift awkwardly, looking between them. "I can sit in the back," I offer quietly. "There's lots of space back there."
Jaxon scoffs. "No need to adjust for that dramatic boy." His tone is dry, but his gaze softens — just a little — when it flicks to me. "You're fine right where you are."
Vale mutters something under his breath but reluctantly climbs into the back, grumbling the entire time. I glance over my shoulder, offering him a small, apologetic smile. He just huffs, slouching down in his seat and glaring out the window.
I shift forward, focusing on the road ahead as Declan starts the engine. The SUV hums to life, smooth and quiet, and the convoy of black cars begins to move.
As the house fades into the distance, a strange weight settles in my chest. I don't look back. Not even once.
The road stretched endlessly ahead, the trees blurring into dark streaks as the car sped through the countryside. The hum of the engine was low and steady, almost lulling, but the silence inside the vehicle was deafening.
I shifted in my seat, glancing around at the boys who had just turned my life upside down. The weight of the moment pressed against my chest, heavier than I expected. Each of them seemed lost in their own world, their gazes fixed on the road or the shadows beyond the windows.
Massimo sat in the front passenger seat, his jaw tight, fingers resting against his temple as he stared straight ahead. He barely moved, like a statue carved from stone, the only sign of life the slow rise and fall of his chest. Declan drove in silence, his hands firm on the wheel, eyes flicking between the road and the rearview mirror with a quiet intensity.
Next to me, Zayn sprawled in his seat, his head tilted back and arms folded across his chest. His usual smirk was absent, his face unreadable in the dim light of the dashboard. On my other side, Jaxon sat rigid, arms crossed tightly over his broad chest, his gaze locked on the window, as if the darkness outside was somehow more interesting than any of us.
Behind me, Vale sulked quietly. Every now and then, I heard him shift or mutter something under his breath, but he kept to himself, the usual sarcasm nowhere to be found.
The atmosphere was stifling.
I pressed my palms against my knees, trying to ease the tension crawling up my spine. The quiet wasn't peaceful — it was heavy.
I bit my lip, eyes darting between the brothers. They didn't say a word to each other. No jokes, no teasing, no soft conversations like I'd always imagined siblings would have.
My chest squeezed painfully.
This... isn't what a home is supposed to feel like.
My father's voice echoed softly in my head, the memory warm and distant, like sunlight slipping through cracks in a window.
"A house is just a place, little star," he'd say, lifting me into his arms and spinning me around the tiny living room. "But a home? That's where people are happy. Where laughter fills the air, and you know you're safe."
I blinked, my throat tightening. This wasn't a home.
These boys — my stepbrothers — had taken me out of pity. No one said it outright, but I felt it in my bones. They saw a girl scrubbing floors, abandoned and unwanted, and decided to do the "right" thing. I was a charity case.
They wouldn't want me around. Not really.
Still... I glanced at Zayn's face, at the way his brows furrowed slightly even in rest, like there was some weight in his mind he couldn't set down. My eyes drifted to Jaxon, his fingers flexing against his arm, like he was holding back some invisible rage. Massimo's shoulders were stiff, tension rolling off him in waves. Declan's grip on the wheel was tight, knuckles pale. Vale's sigh drifted softly from the backseat, quiet and tired.
They didn't feel like strangers. Not entirely. They felt... heavy. Like they were all carrying something they couldn't put down.
They're not my home. I pressed my lips together. But maybe they could be.
A small spark of determination lit inside me. I didn't know how long I'd be with them. Maybe it would only be a few days before they realized I wasn't worth the effort.
But in that timehowever long it lasted — I'd do what I'd always done. I'd smile.
Because smiles spread happiness. My dad taught me that. He used to say it was impossible to stay sad when someone smiled at you, really smiled. Maybe that wasn't entirely true, but it was worth trying. And these boys... they needed it. Even if they didn't know it yet.
I straightened slightly, smoothing my hands over my thighs. Whatever time I had with them, I was going to make it count. I'd make them feel warmth again. I'd show them what a home could be.
They didn't need to ask for it. They didn't need to want it.
I'd give it to them anyway.