CHAPTER 56: MILO, THE SPY!

Clara’s grin widened, her eyes gleaming with triumph. She tapped her phone, recording their words, and played the clip back, their small voices echoing in the room. She fiddled with the recording, editing it as the twins watched, their impatience growing. She immediately uploaded the video online with a cute and fake caption.

’Got them. Ha!’ she thought, her mind racing. ’If I’d known Elias was the key to controlling these brats, I’d have done this sooner.’

"Hey!" Dario snapped, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Show us the picture already!"

Clara ruffled their hair, ignoring their flinches. She couldn’t remember their names... Dante and Dario were just "the twins" to her. Names were never her strong suit; she could barely recall the names of her closest allies, let alone two kids she barely tolerated.

"Alright, alright," she said, her voice syrupy. "I’ll show you the photo of your dear nanny. But from now on, you call me ’mother,’ okay? It’s only fair."

Dante’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like the sound of that. To call the woman they didn’t like ’mother’. He wanted to refuse but Dario nudged him, whispering,

"Let’s just do it. We’ll get the picture."

Clara finally turned the phone toward them, the screen lighting up with a grainy photo. It was Elias, standing in what looked like a parking lot, his face pale and his posture tense. The image was blurry, taken from a distance, but the twins recognised him instantly. Their eyes welled with tears, and Dario’s voice cracked.

"That’s him. That’s... Elias."

Dante wiped his eyes, trying to stay strong. "Where is he? Is Nanny okay?"

Clara’s smile was smug as she tucked the phone back into her purse.

"Oh, he’s fine. And if you keep calling me ’mother,’

I might just bring him back to you." She stood, smoothing her dress, and turned toward the door just as Gerald returned with a tray of snacks... crackers, apple slices, and juice, no soda in sight.

The twins were crying now, their small shoulders shaking. Gerald’s eyes widened, and he set the tray down quickly.

"What’s going on? What happened?"

Clara frowned, her voice sharp.

"They’re too loud, Gerald. Make sure they eat those snacks." She paused at the door, turning back with a wink. "And boys? Call me ’mother’ more often. It’ll make things easier." She swept out of the room, her heels clicking down the hall.

Gerald knelt beside the twins, his voice gentle. "Hey, hey, calm down. What did she do?"

Dario sniffled, wiping his face.

"She showed us a picture of Elias. She said if we call her ’mother,’ she’ll bring him back."

Dante’s voice was bitter. "We know she’s lying. She just wants us to like her. There’s no way we’ll ever let that happen,"

Gerald sighed, his heart heavy. "You two are stronger than this. Don’t let her get to you. Elias wouldn’t want you crying like this, would he?"

Dario shook his head, his voice small. "No. He’d tell us to be tough."

"Exactly," Gerald said, ruffling their hair. "Now, eat something. You need your strength."

The twins nodded, reaching for the apple slices, but their eyes were still red, their thoughts on Elias. Gerald watched them, his mind racing.

’I’m sure that Clara’s up to something,’ he thought. ’She’s using Elias to manipulate them. I need to find out what she knows about him. Maybe his location.’

.

.

Later that night, Clara’s bedroom was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn to block out the moonlight. She sat at her vanity, brushing her hair, her reflection sharp in the mirror. The room that she was given was lavish... silk bedding, gold accents, a wardrobe overflowing with designer clothes... but it felt cold, empty. No matter how much she talked, Viktor didn’t let her stay in the same room with him. That’s why he did his best to furnish her room however she liked. That night, she was alone, or so she thought, until a faint rustle came from the window.

A figure slipped inside, dressed in a black spy outfit, the fabric clinging to his lean frame. Milo, the Drago household’s supposed chef, pulled off his hood, revealing a boyish face with sharp cheekbones and a nervous expression. He knelt before Clara, his voice low.

"I’m sorry, ma’am. I couldn’t get Elias’s medical file. The security at the matching centre was too tight."

Clara’s brush paused, her eyes narrowing in the mirror.

"What do you mean by... couldn’t get it? Milo, I don’t pay you to fail."

Milo’s shoulders tensed, but he kept his head bowed.

"I know, ma’am. I got proof he’s an omega, though. Dominant, from what I overheard. But there was someone else there... someone skilled. I’m sure they were also after his file. And due to that, I couldn’t get past them."

Clara turned, her expression cold.

"I don’t care about your excuses, Milo. You lost to some guard? Pathetic." She stood, crossing the room in a few strides, and grabbed his neck gently, her nails grazing his skin.

"You’re lucky I don’t fire you on the spot."

Milo swallowed, his eyes fixed on the floor. "It won’t happen again. I swear."

Clara released him, cupping his face and sliding his mask off completely. His dark eyes met hers, a mix of fear and determination.

"It better not," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Your next job is to get Rin’s results. I don’t care how you do it, but you bring them to me. Understood?"

Milo nodded, his voice steady despite the tension. "Yes, ma’am. I won’t fail you again."

Clara stepped back, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Good. Now get out."

Milo slipped back through the window, disappearing into the night. Clara returned to her vanity, as she was deep in thought.

’Elias is a... dominant omega. What does that mean? Even if he’s an Omega, that changes everything.’

She picked up her phone, scrolling through her contacts, her eyes narrowing.

’If I can’t get his file, I’ll find another way to get him and control him.’