Grey Blood - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Angelina sat frozen in the chair, her breath caught in her throat.
Angelina Grey.
The name didn't feel real. It didn't belong to her.
She looked up at Officer Reynolds, hoping he would tell her there had been a mistake, that this was just some kind of mix-up. But his serious expression told her otherwise.
"You're saying... I have a family?" Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
Officer Carter gave her a small nod. "Yes, sweetheart. Your biological father has been looking for you for sixteen years."
Angelina felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Her chest tightened, but this time, it wasn't from her asthma—it was from the overwhelming rush of emotions that crashed over her like a wave.
Sixteen years?
For as long as she could remember, she had believed she was alone. No parents. No siblings. No one who cared. But now, out of nowhere, they were telling her she had a father and six older brothers?
"I—" She opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. Her hands gripped the sleeves of her sweater so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Are you sure? Maybe it's someone else..."
Officer Reynolds turned the computer screen toward her again. "We ran your blood samples and fingerprints , Angelina. There's no mistake. You are the daughter of Alex Grey."
Alex Grey.
She had never heard that name before, yet something about it sent a chill down her spine.
"He's a very powerful man," Reynolds continued, his voice measured. "A businessman. And from what we can tell, he never stopped searching for you."
Angelina's stomach twisted. Powerful. That word didn't sit right with her.
She didn't understand. If this man had been looking for her all this time, then why was she never found? Why did she spend sixteen years locked in a house with people who hated her?
"How... how did I end up with them?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
Officer Carter sighed, her expression filled with something almost like sympathy. "We don't have all the details yet, but from what we know, you were kidnapped when you were a year old."
Kidnapped.
Angelina felt her entire body go numb.
Her aunt and uncle had stolen her?
Her mind reeled as she tried to process what that meant. Her whole life had been a lie. The people who had raised her—who had starved her, hurt her, made her believe she was worthless—they had never been meant to be in her life at all.
She had a real family out there. A father. Brothers.
And she had never even known.
The weight of it was suffocating. She felt like she couldn't breathe.
Officer Carter must have noticed the way her chest rose and fell unevenly, because she reached forward gently. "Angelina? Sweetheart, can you take a deep breath for me?"
Angelina shook her head, gripping the edges of her sleeves even tighter. "I... I can't..."
Her vision blurred, the room feeling too small, too tight.
Carter crouched in front of her, her voice calm but firm. "Angelina, listen to me. I need you to slow down your breathing, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. I know it's hard, but try."
Angelina forced herself to nod. She had done this before.
After a few moments, she felt like she could breathe again. But the dizziness remained, her body still shaken.
"Good girl," Carter said softly, rubbing her back gently. "You did great."
Angelina exhaled shakily, wiping at her damp eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. She hated this. She hated feeling weak.
Officer Reynolds sat back down, his expression serious. "Your father is already on his way here, Angelina."
Her head snapped up. "What?"
"We called him the moment we found your records. He'll be here soon."
Her pulse quickened. She wasn't ready for this.
She had just found out she had a father—a powerful father—and now she was supposed to meet him?
Her fingers dug into her sleeves as anxiety twisted her stomach.
She didn't know what to expect.
She didn't know who to expect.
But one thing was certain—her life was about to change forever.
Angelina sat in the dimly lit office, her fingers curled tightly around the fabric of her sweater. The weight of everything pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe—not in the way her asthma did, but in a way that felt even worse.
Her father was coming.
A father she didn't remember. A father she didn't even know.
Her stomach twisted. What was he going to be like? What if he was cruel? What if he was disappointed in her?
She flinched when the office door creaked open.
Officer Carter stepped inside first, her expression unreadable. But behind her, a figure filled the doorway, tall and imposing.
Angelina's breath caught in her throat.
The man who stepped into the room was nothing like she had imagined.
He was terrifyingly powerful.
His presence alone made the air feel heavier, like he could crush anyone in the room with just a glance.
His expensive black suit was crisp, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders. His face was sharp—high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and piercing gray eyes that locked onto her the second he entered. His dark hair, streaked with hints of silver, was neatly styled, but there was something untamed in his gaze.
Angelina shrank back in her seat, her pulse hammering in her ears.
He didn't move. He just stood there, staring at her. His hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tight, like he was trying to hold something back.
Then, in a voice rough with emotion, he whispered, "Angelina?"
She stiffened.
The way he said her name—it was almost like he didn't believe she was real. Like he had spent years searching, only to think this moment would never come.
Angelina opened her mouth, but no words came out.
What was she supposed to say?
She had never been called Angelina Grey before. She had never had a father before.
Alex Grey took a slow step forward, his movements careful, hesitant—as if he was afraid she would disappear.
"I..." His voice broke slightly, and for the briefest moment, his hard expression cracked. Pain flickered in his gray eyes, raw and unfiltered. "I thought I lost you forever."
Angelina swallowed. There was so much emotion in his voice, so much grief, that she didn't know how to process it.
This man—this terrifyingly powerful man—was hurting.
Because of her.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, gripping her sleeves even tighter. "I... I don't remember you." Her voice was small, barely above a whisper.
Something in his eyes dimmed, but he nodded. "I know."
Silence filled the room.
Angelina's heart pounded. She felt so small in front of him.
She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to feel.
But Alex?
He suddenly exhaled sharply, and before she could react, he moved.
Angelina stiffened as he crouched in front of her, lowering himself until they were at eye level.
Up close, he wasn't just a powerful figure. He was a father.
And he was desperate to reach her.
"I know this is overwhelming," he said, his voice lower now, softer. "I know you're scared. But you're my daughter, Angelina. You were taken from me... stolen from me." His voice trembled slightly. "And I've spent sixteen years looking for you."
Her breath hitched.
Sixteen years.
Sixteen years of suffering. Sixteen years of loneliness.
Had he really searched for her all that time?
Had she really mattered to someone?
Tears burned in her eyes, but she blinked them away quickly. She wasn't used to people caring. She wasn't used to being wanted.
She wasn't sure how to handle it.
Alex reached forward, but then hesitated, as if afraid to touch her. His hands trembled slightly before he finally cupped her face ever so gently, like she was something fragile, something he couldn't bear to lose again.
"You look just like her," he whispered, his eyes scanning her face with an ache so deep it made her chest tighten.
Her?
Realization struck.
Her mother.
The mother she had never known.
Angelina couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.
All she could do was stare into this man's broken gray eyes and wonder...
Who was he before he lost her?
And who would he become now that he had found her again?