A story where a waitress's life takes a dramatic turn after being unexpectedly recruited by the CIA through a charming gentleman and her long-lost brother. What begins as a leap into the unknown unravels a truth she never anticipated-that she is cap...
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"I'm sorry, Mr. Sinclair," Emilia said, stepping forward with steel in her voice. Her fingers curled tightly into fists at her sides, trembling with the intensity of her resolve. "I quit."
For a moment, the diner fell into silence. Sinclair turned to face her, his brow furrowed as though considering her words, but instead of the outburst she expected, he simply shrugged. "Okay," he said nonchalantly, pivoting to take the order of a nearby table, utterly unbothered by her declaration.
Emilia blinked, stunned. Behind her, Lucy and Donny exchanged bewildered looks. Donny's head peeked out farther from the kitchen door, his brows raised in confusion.
"What just happened?" Lucy whispered.
Emilia's gaze snapped to Charles, standing cool and composed as he lowered his fingers from his temple. His serene smile met her wide-eyed disbelief.
"You did this, didn't you?" she whispered, taking a step closer, her voice filled with a mix of awe and suspicion.
Charles's smile deepened, and though his lips didn't move, she heard his voice as clearly as if he'd spoken aloud: "You are not the only one with an ability, Emilia Lehnsherr."
Her breath caught in her throat. It hadn't been spoken—not with words, not with sound. It was inside her mind, a silent whisper that sent shivers down her spine. She stared at him, her thoughts racing. What else does he know about me?
"How—?" she began, her voice shaking, but Charles raised a hand gently, his expression calm and reassuring. "There will be time for explanations," he said, aloud this time, his voice smooth and warm. "But for now, trust that you are not alone."
Alone. The word lingered in her mind like a lifeline. For so long, she had believed it was only her and Erik, that no one else could understand the burden of being... different. But now, she wasn't so sure.
"I know. He's done it to me too," Erik whispered, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. The gesture felt both familiar and strange, their muscles tense as if afraid the moment might shatter. Their brows furrowed, a mirror of shared pain and lingering unease, but one thing Emilia knew for certain: this was her brother. Her protector. And she wasn't going to lose him again.
As they prepared to leave, Emilia turned back toward the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the faces of Donny and Lucy. "Take care of yourselves, okay?" she said softly, lifting her hand in a small wave.
Lucy didn't hesitate, rushing up to meet her halfway. "Why are you leaving with these men? Are you out of your mind?" she demanded, her voice a mixture of worry and disbelief.
Donny joined them, stepping closer with a protective edge. "Just say the word, Em, and I'll—"
Emilia cut him off with a faint smile. "He's my brother," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. "He needs my help, and I need his."
