The sun barely filtered through the dark velvet curtains when Nicco opened his eyes with a jolt. His body was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding violently in his chest. He was in his bed. In his room. The same one he had grown up in, with perfectly aligned walls, carved wooden furniture, and a Persian rug that screamed opulence. Everything was the same... too much the same.
But he didn't remember coming back.
He sat up abruptly, his hands trembling. A sharp buzzing rang in his head, like something had ripped him out of time.
The door opened.
There they were.
Don Alessandro Rossi: impeccable, in a dark grey suit perfectly pressed, his face carved in stone and eyes of ice. Mrs. Giuliana Rossi, in a burgundy dress without a single wrinkle, lips painted a deep red, and the same expression she wore at charity galas when she pretended to smile.
—"What the hell are you doing!?" —shouted Nicco, jumping to his feet—. "How could you!? What did you do!? Did you drug me to lock me in my own room!?"
His father didn't even blink.
—"Sit down, Niccolo," —he ordered, his voice as sharp as his gaze.
—"I'M NOT GOING TO SIT!" —Nicco snapped, eyes burning with fury—. "What's wrong with you?! Who do you think you are to decide my life!?"
—"We're your parents," —Giuliana replied, her tone as cold as when she was about to destroy someone.
—"No! You're not my parents! My parents don't kidnap me, don't manipulate me, don't lock me up like a prisoner."
—"Enough hysterics," —Alessandro interrupted, stepping forward—. "We've found out everything. Your absences from university. The party. The boy's corpse. The disappearance of that friend of yours, Viki. And now..."
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A brief, calculated silence.
—"Jake is dead," —his mother said. Her tone showed no grief. Only judgment.
—"And not only that," —his father continued—. "We've reviewed the cameras. The files. Everything. Do you think it's normal to have two strange girls living in this house? Letting them stain the Rossi name as if this were some cheap boarding house?"
—"Kali and Dahlia aren't strangers!" —Nicco roared—. "They're my friends! Kali is my girlfriend!"
—"Ah," —his mother said with disgust in her voice—. "So it's true. You were a couple."
—"Yes! And that's none of your business!" —Nicco was breathing heavily, as if each word stole his oxygen—. "You don't understand anything!"
—"We understand perfectly," —Alessandro said without an ounce of emotion—. "You're tangled up with a girl who's beneath you. Who comes from a family with no roots, no reputation. A nobody."
—"Don't you ever call her that again!" —Nicco growled, stepping forward with clenched fists.
—"That trash will never set foot in this house again!" —his father shouted, his voice so loud it made the windows shake—. "And you're going to forget about her! I don't want to hear you say her name ever again!"
—"Then you'll have to rip out my tongue!" —Nicco screamed, his body trembling with pure rage—. "Because I'm not leaving her! Or anyone I choose to love!"
The slap was brutal. Alessandro's hand moved with speed and precision. The open palm struck Nicco's cheek, throwing him to the floor. A sharp, painful blow.
Silence fell. Only the sound of Nicco's ragged breathing from the ground, and his parents' impassive stares remained.
—"You are forbidden from seeing her, and if you try to escape and go to her... her parents will pay the price," —Alessandro said with a cruel, calm voice and threw down some papers showing Kali's family information—. "And from now on, I also forbid you from using your powers. Not a single spark. Do you understand? Until further notice."
Giuliana turned around. Walked to the door. Opened it. But just before leaving, she stopped, her head slightly turned toward him.
—"You don't deserve to be a Rossi," —she said coldly—. "Nor to carry the power of electrokinesis that runs through our blood. You are a disgrace. That's why university is over. You'll work at the company now."
And she left.
The door closed with a definitive click.
Nicco remained on the floor, his face still burning, his soul in pieces. And yet, inside him, something held on. Something stronger than rage or fear.
But he couldn't summon that spark within him. He felt something strange where they had injected him to make him sleep. But this wouldn't end here...
A silent promise that he would not give up. Not this time.

