Beneath The Ashes - Chapter 7: Chapter 7

The first rays of sunlight painted the room in soft gold, warming my face as I blinked awake. For a moment, I panicked. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, far too elegant to belong to my cramped little room back home. Then it hit me. The Vitalo mansion. Right.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, taking in the massive room I'd been given. The bed was so soft it felt like a cloud, the sheets smooth against my skin. For once, I wasn't freezing. The fireplace across the room had kept the chill away all night.
It felt... nice.
I pushed the covers off and padded across the floor, the cold wood beneath my feet making me shiver. As much as I wanted to curl back into the warmth, old habits died hard. I wasn't used to sleeping in. And if there was one thing I knew, it was how to make myself useful.
Slipping quietly down the grand staircase, I made my way toward the kitchen. The house was eerily quiet, the only sounds being the soft creak of the floorboards beneath me and the distant hum of the heater.
Finally, I found the kitchen. My jaw nearly dropped.Stainless steel appliances, black marble countertops, and a massive island in the center. I opened a few cabinets, half expecting them to be bare, but to my surprise, they were fully stocked.
Perfect.
I clapped my hands quietly, giddy with excitement. No freezing grocery store runs in a city. No digging through nearly empty cupboards. I could actually cook.
Rolling up my sleeves, I got to work.
Pots clattered softly as I pulled them from their place. Eggs, bacon, and toast were a given. I found pancake mix and decided to make a towering stack, just in case. Then I spotted some fresh fruit in the fridge and started slicing, arranging the pieces neatly on a platter. Not knowing who liked what, I figured the more options, the better. My father always said the way to a person's heart was through their stomach.
As the bacon sizzled and the scent of pancakes filled the air, I smiled to myself. It felt good to do something normal. Familiar. The kitchen felt warmer now, the quiet no longer eerie but peaceful.
Just as I placed the last plate onto the dining table, footsteps echoed down the hall. I turned, expecting maybe Declan or Massimo, but instead, I found Zayn and Jaxon standing in the doorway.
They froze.
Zayn's brows shot up, eyes flicking from me to the table overflowing with food. Jaxon stood behind him, arms crossed, his face unreadable. For a long moment, neither of them moved.
"Morning!" I beamed at them, wiping my hands on a towel. "Breakfast is ready."
Zayn blinked. "You... did all this?" His voice was a little hoarse, like he'd just woken up.
"Yup!" I gestured to the table. "Didn't know what everyone liked, so I made a bit of everything. Have a seat."
Zayn's gaze lingered on the food, then back at me, a slow grin spreading across his face. He turned and shouted like a blaring alarm. "! GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE! BREAKFAST!"
I jumped, nearly dropping the towel. Jaxon flinched.
"Was that really necessary?" Jaxon muttered, glaring at him.
"Yes," Zayn said cheerfully, dropping into a chair and grabbing a piece of bacon. He took a bite and moaned dramatically. "Oh, Sunshine, you are officially my favorite."
Heat crept into my cheeks. "It's just breakfast."
"Not just breakfast." He waved the bacon at me. "This is love."
Jaxon just shook his head, sliding into a chair without a word. He grabbed a plate, loading it with food, eyes narrowing slightly as he inspected the pancakes. He didn't say anything, but he didn't stop eating either. I counted that as a win.
More footsteps echoed down the hall, and moments later, the rest of the brothers appeared. Massimo entered first, his sharp gaze sweeping over the scene, followed by Declan, who looked as unreadable as ever. Vale trailed behind, looking less than pleased to be awake.
"What's going on?" Massimo asked, his brow furrowing. His gaze fell to the table, then me, and something shifted in his expression. "Did you... make all this?"
I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck. "Yeah. I just woke up early and figured... why not?"
Massimo studied me for a long moment before nodding. "Have you eaten?"
"Oh, no. I was just finishing up." I gestured to the food. "You guys go ahead."
Massimo's pulled out a chair beside him and patted the seat. "Sit."
"What?"
"Sit.and Eat." His tone left no room for argument.
I hesitated, but the look he gave me had my feet moving before I realized what I was doing. Slowly, I slid into the chair next to him, suddenly feeling very small with all five of them surrounding me.
The boys dug into the food, each reacting in their own way.
"This is..." Zayn groaned, shoving another pancake into his mouth. "Sunshine, you're a gift."
Jaxon didn't say anything, but the way he silently reached for seconds spoke volumes.
Declan ate quietly, but I caught the slight nod of approval as he took a bite of the eggs.
Massimo chewed thoughtfully, then gave a single nod. "Good."
I pouted. "That's it?"
He arched a brow. "You want a medal?"
I smiled embarrassed "No, but... 'good'? That's all I get?"
His lips twitched, almost like he was holding back a smile. "It's a very high compliment."
Vale shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth, scowling. "You're all ridiculous."
"You're still eating," Zayn pointed out, smirking.
"Shut up."
I couldn't help but laugh. It was strange, sitting here with them. They were so different, yet somehow... it felt right. Warm.
—————
As soon as everyone had finished eating, I stood up, grabbing the nearest plate. "Alright, let's get these cleaned up." I reached for another, but before I could gather more, a warm hand wrapped around my wrist, halting me.
Massimo.
"You don't need to do that." His voice was low, but firm.
I blinked up at him. "What do you mean? The least I can do is—"
Massimo shook his head once, cutting me off. "The boys can wash their own plates." He released my wrist, leaning back slightly as his gaze swept over his brothers. "It's our routine."
I frowned, glancing around the table. Sure enough, one by one, the guys stood up, grabbing their dishes without complaint. Even Zayn, got up, stacking a few plates.
I stared at them, utterly dumbfounded. "Wait... this is normal?"
Zayn grinned. "What? You thought we would be some rich boys who doesn't even open their water bottles by themselves ?"
I hesitated. "Haha Well... maybe?"
Jaxon scoffed. "We're not helpless."
Massimo gave me a pointed look. "We might be rich, but we're not spoiled." He turned toward the sink, rolling up his sleeves. "We do have cooking and cleaning staff. But this is what we can do by ourselves."
"You cooked. We clean."
I stood there for a moment, watching them work in quiet efficiency. They moved around each other like clockwork, each taking a task without needing to be told. Plates clattered softly, water ran, and for the first time since I arrived, the house felt... alive.
Maybe they weren't what I expected.
When they finished, the boys drifted off, each muttering about getting ready for the day. I stood in the kitchen for a while longer, staring at the spotless counters. Then, with a determined nod, I set off to find what I needed.
The house was massive. Each hallway stretched endlessly, with polished floors and paintings that looked older than I was. Eventually, I found a supply closet tucked beneath the staircase. Broom, mop, and a bucket — perfect.
I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.
The floors weren't that dirty, but the house was so big it would take time. I didn't mind. Cleaning was... therapeutic. Each swipe of the mop felt like scrubbing away the weight in my chest. I needed this.
After all, I wasn't staying here for free.
Sure, Massimo said I didn't have to clean, but I wasn't just going to sit around and do nothing. I'd find a part-time job here too. Maybe at a coffee shop or a diner like back at my home. Something that paid enough to contribute, even a little.
not yet.
For now, I'd make myself useful.
I was humming softly to myself, lost in the rhythm, when footsteps echoed down the stairs. I glanced up to find Declan and Vale standing at the bottom, both staring at me like I'd grown a second head.
"What are you doing?" Vale asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.
I paused, gripping the mop. "Uh... cleaning?"
Vale arched a brow. "Why?"
I smiled. "Because it needs to be done."
Declan's eyes narrowed slightly. "No, it doesn't."
I blinked. "Of course it does." I gestured around the grand hallway. "This place is huge. It'll take a while, but—"
"You don't have to," Declan cut in, stepping closer. His gaze was steady, unreadable.
My smile faltered. "I know that." I shifted on my feet. "But... I can't just do nothing. You guys are feeding me, giving me a place to sleep. How am I supposed to repay that?"
Vale snorted. "You can start by not making a mess. Like you did for that breakfast in kitchen "
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "I'll work on that."
Declan shot Vale a look that could've frozen lava. "Shut Up."
Vale just shrugged. "What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking." He crossed his arms, leaning against the banister. "She wants to clean? Let her.least she could do that"
My stomach sank. I gripped the mop tighter, but kept my smile in place. "It's okay. I don't mind."
Declan exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This isn't some... debt you need to pay off."
He spoke alot huh!
I opened my mouth to argue, but a new voice cut in.
"What's going on?"
Massimo stood at the top of the stairs, arms folded across his chest. His sharp gaze flicked from me to the mop, then to Declan and Vale.
Vale gestured vaguely at me. "She's cleaning."
Massimo's eyes locked onto mine. "Why?"
I shifted uncomfortably. "I just wanted to help."
He sighed, running a hand down his face. "Of course you did." Without another word, he turned on his heel. "Come with me."
"What?"
"Now."
I hesitated, glancing at Declan. He gave me a small nod. Sighing, I set the mop aside and followed Massimo up the stairs. He led me down a long corridor, the heavy silence pressing down on me. Finally, he stopped in front of a large wooden door and pushed it open.
Massimo's office felt like it belonged in a movie. Everything was dark and polished — deep mahogany furniture, dark leather chairs, and walls lined with bookshelves that stretched toward the ceiling. The morning sunlight filtered in through heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the room. The air felt heavier here, quieter, like the walls themselves held secrets.
Massimo walked in ahead of me, moving with that quiet authority he always seemed to carry. He gestured to the large leather chair in front of his desk. "Sit."
I hesitated, glancing around once more before perching on the edge of the chair. My hands fidgeted in my lap as I watched him lean against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. The weight of his gaze made me feel small — not in a bad way, just... noticed.
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Ivy, we need to talk."
I swallowed. "Okay."
His dark eyes met mine. "You're not here to clean."
I blinked. "What?"
"This house," he gestured around us, "isn't your responsibility." He shifted, his tone firm but not unkind. "We have people who clean. People we pay." He tilted his head slightly. "You're not one of them."
I bit my lip, gripping my hands tighter. "I wasn't trying to... I just..." I trailed off, searching for the right words. "I didn't want to freeload. You're giving me a place to stay. Food. I can't just sit around and do nothing."
Massimo moved around the desk, lowering himself into the chair across from me. "I get it. But you don't have to repay us."
I blinked. "But—"
"No." His voice was quiet but absolute. "You're not here to work off some debt, Ivy. You're here because..." He hesitated, exhaling slowly before continuing. "Because you belong here. Whether you believe that yet or not."
My throat tightened. "I don't understand."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're not a burden. You're not someone who needs to earn their place here. We're all family." He paused, his gaze steady. "Maybe not by blood to you, but by heart. Some of us..." He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Some of us will take longer to accept that. But it doesn't change the fact that we care."
I stared at him, struggling to find words. "I just... I don't know how to accept that." My voice cracked slightly. "No one's ever... cared like that before."
Massimo's jaw tightened. He looked away for a moment, like he was trying to rein in his emotions. When he met my eyes again, his expression neutral. "Well, get used to it."
A small, watery laugh slipped out of me. "I don't know if I can."
"You can." He leaned back, giving me a pointed look. "But no more cleaning."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he held up a hand.
"No. More. Cleaning." His lips twitched slightly. "If you really want to be busy, you can cook. But only if you actually enjoy it — not because you feel like you have to."
I bit my lip, smiling softly. "I do like cooking."
"Then cook.whenever you like." He shrugged. "But not because you think you owe us."
I stared at him for a long moment, warmth blooming in my chest. I'd spent so long feeling invisible — unwanted — that hearing someone say I belonged felt... overwhelming.
Before I could stop myself, I launched out of my chair and threw my arms around him. Massimo stiffened, completely caught off guard, but I didn't care. I clung to him, burying my face in his shoulder. "I always wanted brothers like you." My voice wavered, thick with emotion. "My Dad must've sent you from heaven or something."
Massimo let out a startled breath.
For a moment, he didn't move. Then, slowly, his arms came around me. His embrace was warm and steady, grounding me in a way I hadn't realized I needed. The icy aura he always carried seemed to melt away, leaving behind something softer.
"Easy, Ivy." His voice was low "You're gonna squeeze the life out of me."
I laughed, sniffling as I pulled back. He looked down at me, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, with a quiet sigh, he gently wiped a stray tear from my cheek.
"You're not alone anymore," he said softly. "You've got us now."
I swallowed hard, nodding. "Okay."
Massimo studied me for a moment longer, then cleared his throat, shifting back into his usual composed self. "Alright." He stood, smoothing out his shirt. "Let's go."
I blinked. "Go where?"
"Shopping." He looked at me slightly. "Zayn insists you need clothes. He booked an appointment at some shops."
I stared at him, wide-eyed. "Zayn?"
Massimo's smirks surprising me. "He claims he has an eye for fashion. Don't let him convince you to buy anything ridiculous."
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Okay... but why are you coming?"
Massimo arched a brow. "You think I trust Zayn alone with a credit card?"
I giggled, following him toward the door.