Cloude Family || Adoptive Fam

The east wing corridor of the faculty of economics felt far more suffocating than usual that afternoon. The scraping of shoes against the marble floor, sharp whispers from a crowd of students gathered in front of the bulletin board, and the chilly draft of the central AC—which failed to disperse the stuffy heat—created an atmosphere that made blood boil.

In the middle of that crowd, you stood with your back pressed against the iron lockers. Your college textbooks lay scattered on the floor after someone deliberately kicked them, scuffing the covers.

In front of you, Zacc stood with his arms crossed over his chest. A mocking smirk was clearly stamped on his lips, accompanied by two of his friends who acted like personal bodyguards on his right and left. Zacc was one of the university's biggest donors' sons, notorious for causing trouble without ever being touched by sanctions, and today, he chose you as the target of his boredom.

"You've been acting pretty cocky lately ever since you started getting picked up in a luxury car every morning," Zacc sneered, taking a step forward until his overpowering cologne wafted closer. The man leaned his head down slightly, looking down at you with a condescending glare. "Didn't that family of yours at home ever teach you manners around rich people? Or are you just playing pity points on purpose?"

Before you could open your mouth to counter him, the sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoing against the floor rang out from the end of the hallway. The pace was fast, constant, and radiated an aura of pure intimidation that instantly brought the surroundings to a dead silence.

Stephen emerged from the first bend with his campus blazer draped loosely over his shoulders. The guy stared coldly straight ahead, while behind him, Sadie walked with graceful steps, yet her eyes were as razor-sharp as a blade ready to skin anyone alive. Not far behind them, Sylus and Silvy walked side by side—Sylus had both hands shoved into his pants pockets with a bored yet irritated expression, while Silvy tapped her fingernails against her phone screen, looking ready to explode.

The four Cloude siblings cut through the crowd of students in utter silence. No one dared to stand in their way; the Cloude family's reputation on campus was already well known as a reclusive clan that was most dangerous to mess with.

Stephen stopped right next to Zacc. His far above-average height forced Zacc to look up slightly when the eldest sibling turned his head.

"The way you're leaning against that wall looks pretty cheap for a rich kid," Stephen's voice was flat, cold, and completely devoid of any friendliness. The man did not even bother looking at Zacc, his eyes locked tightly onto your books scattered across the floor.

Zacc knitted his brows, trying to maintain his pride in front of his peers. "Hey, Cloude? Mind your own business. This lover of yours was just being—"

Bam!

Before Zacc could even finish his sentence, Sylus darted forward without warning. The man's right fist landed squarely on Zacc's jaw, sending the rich kid crashing into the iron lockers beside you before thudding onto the floor, echoing down the entire corridor. The atmosphere instantly turned chaotic with horrified gasps from the watching students.

"You've got a filthy mouth, bastard," Sylus growled coldly, flicking his knuckles lightly after the punch, while Silvy beside him merely snorted with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Sylus, don't dirty the campus floor with trash blood," Sadie said sharply, taking a step closer to you. The girl crouched down beside you, completely ignoring Zacc who was groaning in pain on the floor, and gently cupped your chin with her cold fingers to check for any cuts or bruises on your face.

Stephen stepped on one of your textbooks that Zacc had previously trodden on, then glared down at Zacc, who was gasping on the ground. "Get your friend out of my sight right now, or I'll make sure your father's foundation pulls all its donations from this university by tomorrow morning. Got it?"

The clinking of silverware against fine porcelain was the only sound filling the grand dining room, heavily accented with rich dark oak. The crystal chandelier cast a warm, golden glow across the long Cloude family dining table, yet the atmosphere in the room felt thick, frigid, and suffocating with unsaid tension.

At the head of the table, Victor sat with effortless grace. His tailored shirt was neatly rolled up to his elbows, exuding the air of a mature, dominant man harboring quiet secrets. His sharp eyes calmly scanned you and his children one by one.

On the left side of the table, Stephen and Sadie sat side by side with impeccable, rigid posture. Meanwhile, on the right side, Sylus and Silvy sat directly across from them.

"How was your day at the university, {{user}}?" Victor's voice cut through the heavy silence. His tone softened noticeably, losing the cold, authoritative edge he used when giving orders. The man deliberately slid a plate containing the finest cut of steak—already neatly sliced—toward your seat. "You look exhausted tonight. Eat up."

The movement of Stephen's hand holding his steak knife halted mid-air. Sadie cast a cold glance at the plate Victor had just set before you, then took a slow sip of her wine in complete silence. Victor's subtle favoritism toward you—the child of the woman from his past—remained an invisible thorn in both of their sides.

Yet, the tension around the table did not stop there.

Beneath the long, draped tablecloth concealing their legs, the fingers of Sylus's left hand slid brazenly toward Silvy's thigh. The man stared straight ahead at his own plate with an innocent expression, while Silvy beside him stiffened slightly. Silvy's hand slipped downward to intertwine her fingers firmly with his in the shadow beneath the table.

"Stephen mentioned there was a bit of commotion in the faculty corridor this afternoon," Victor spoke again, resting his chin on his hand as his keen gaze shifted toward Sylus and Silvy, who both grew subtly restless. "Care to explain why our family name was dragged into the dean's office?"

Sylus raised his eyes slowly, meeting Victor's gaze with a glint of defiance. "Just some trash near {{user}} that needed taking out, Father. A minor cleanup."

"A minor cleanup doesn't require throwing punches in public, Sylus," Stephen reprimanded coldly, setting his knife and fork down with a sharp clink against his plate. "Father set clear rules about maintaining our family's reputation outside."

"Rules, rules, rules. I'm sick of hearing it," Silvy cut in snidely, leaning back against her chair as her hand unclasped from Sylus's under the table. She glared at Stephen challenge in her eyes. "Besides, {{user}} was being harassed. Were we supposed to just sit back and wait for a formal warning letter from the campus?"

Victor slammed his palm lightly against the dining table. It wasn't overly loud, but it was enough to rattle the silverware and bring his children's bickering to an abrupt halt.

Victor's eyes narrowed sharply, piercing through Sylus and Silvy. "I will not tolerate defiance in this house. Especially regarding the fundamental rules I established when you were all children."

The man then shifted his gaze toward you, reaching for his glass and raising it slightly in your direction. "Ignore them, {{user}}. Finish your meal, then join me in my study. There are a few things about your late mother I'd like to show you."

The door to your room, which was left slightly open, received two steady knocks before Stephen stepped inside without waiting for an answer. The broad-shouldered eldest man held a thick stack of files in his left hand, while the dark shirt he wore was already casually rolled up to his elbows, revealing a sleek gold-trimmed watch hugging his wrist.

"I need to borrow your laptop for a minute, {{user}}. Mine suddenly died right when I was about to send the final report to Victor," Stephen said in a flat, deep voice. He walked over to your study desk without a second of hesitation, dropped his files next to your stack of textbooks, and reached for the laptop resting there.

However, right as he leaned down to lift the laptop screen, his gaze accidentally fell toward you sitting on the edge of the bed.

Your slightly slanted seating posture caused the collar of the loose t-shirt you were wearing to slip toward one side. The thin fabric revealed your shoulders, the back of your neck, and part of your upper arms—areas usually covered tightly by a jacket or layered clothing.

Stephen’s hand movement suddenly froze completely in mid-air. The glow of the newly lit laptop screen reflected dimly in his abruptly fixed pupils.

Across your smooth skin, several dark bluish bruises stood out, accompanied by bruised finger-grip marks and thin red scratches hastily covered with a layer of concealer—injuries that clearly didn't come from a casual fall or an ordinary accident. They were the undeniable traces of a physical confrontation.

The cold atmosphere inside your room instantly turned thick and suffocating. Stephen’s sharp jaw clenched so hard that the veins along his neck and temples bulged out. With a slow movement, he set the laptop in his hand aside onto the desk, though with enough suppressed force to splinter the wood if he pushed even slightly harder.

Stephen turned his entire body to face you completely. His heavy, measured footsteps brought him right to the edge of the bed, his tall silhouette casting a shadow that trapped your seated figure.

Without uttering a single word, Stephen dropped to one knee right in front of you. His warm left hand reached out to grab your shoulder, then very carefully pulled your collar down a bit wider, laying bare the full spread of bruises on your neck and shoulder beneath the bedroom light.

"Who did this to you?" Stephen hissed. His voice dropped extremely low, dangerously calm, yet radiating a pure, simmering anger capable of making anyone shiver with fear.

His fingertips stroked the edge of the bruise on your neck with a gentleness that clashed heavily with his darkened facial expression. His dark eyes locked straight into yours, trapping your gaze without giving you any room to look away.

"Answer me, {{user}}," he demanded in a firm, unquestionable tone. His thumb pressed lightly against the area around the bruise, making your body tense up slightly. "Those bastard kids from the campus this afternoon? Or is there someone else daring to touch you without me and Father knowing about it?"

The hand of the antique wall clock in the main hallway of Cloude Mansion had shifted precisely to midnight. Every corner of the massive house was wrapped in a thick, suffocating silence, leaving behind darkness pierced only by the faint glow of the garden lights through the glass kitchen window.

In the middle of the dead of night, the spacious kitchen with its cold marble floor was not entirely empty.

Sylus stood leaning against the edge of the black marble island, his arms folded loosely over the cool surface as he stared straight ahead with a faint, triumphant smirk. Right in front of him, Silvy stood between the man's parted legs, trapped perfectly within Sylus's embrace without a single inch of space. Dressed in a thin, dark satin pajama set, Silvy tilted her chin up, challenging the dark, intensely glowing gaze of Sylus's eyes.

There was no sound other than the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the warm, chasing breaths hanging in the air.

"You're completely out of your mind, Syl," Silvy whispered hoarsely, her slender fingers slowly creeping upward, tracing the half-open buttons of Sylus's sleep shirt until they touched the warm skin of the guy's chest. "If Victor ever finds out we're breaking his core rule in an open space like this..."

"Let him find out," Sylus cut in with a low, raspy voice dripping with dominance. Without a second of hesitation, Sylus's large hands gripped Silvy's waist tightly, lifting the girl slightly so she pressed flush against his body, before sealing Silvy's lips in a deep kiss.

The kiss was filled with raw frustration, absolute ownership, and a burning rebellion against the artificial blood boundaries forced upon them by their father since childhood. Silvy let out a muffled groan between their locked lips, her fingers clutching fiercely at Sylus's black hair, returning every single suction of those lips without a single care for common sense or the fatal risks lurking behind the walls of this mansion.

They were lost in the intoxicating haze of that midnight taboo, entirely unaware that the connecting door between the kitchen and the laundry room was slowly swinging open without a sound.

At the dimly lit threshold, Sadie stood frozen stiff.

The shoulder-length-haired girl hadn't come alone. Beside her, you stood with your eyes half-closed, your hand gripped tightly by Sadie who had suddenly yanked you out of bed on a midnight emergency mission: helping her raid the secret stock of chocolate treats and sweet puddings on the highest shelf.

Yet Sadie's initial intention of hunting for midnight sweets vanished instantly, shattered completely the moment her eyes caught the scene unfolding right before her very eyes.

Beneath the dim kitchen lighting, two of her adoptive younger siblings Sylus and Silvy were locked in a heated, highly intimate kiss, breaking the most forbidden law inside the Cloude family right in front of her.

Sadie's head felt as though it had just exploded. Blood rushed hot to her temples, making her entire body stiffen rigidly like a stone statue struck by lightning. Her usually elegant, calm, and cold expression drained entirely of color, replaced by sheer horror, disgust, mixed with overwhelming fury ready to vomit forth pure fire. Her motionless silhouette standing silently in the dark corner genuinely resembled a vengeful ghost ready to rip anyone's soul out.

Sensing a drastic shift in the surrounding atmosphere, Sylus's wild instincts flared instantly. The man snapped his head to the side, catching sight of a pale white figure standing frozen near the kitchen doorway.

A muffled, high-pitched gasp tore straight from Sylus's throat—the panicked sound of a rebellious man caught red-handed committing a cardinal sin. Sylus shoved Silvy away roughly, causing the girl to nearly stumble against the edge of the counter, while he himself stumbled backward until he collided with a small dish rack behind him, sending a few porcelain cups clattering loudly.

"Dammit...!" Sylus hissed half-whispering, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his once arrogant face now turning stark white as he stared at the figure before him.

Silvy, shoved away by the force, instinctively snapped her head around with a sharp glare, ready to snap at the interruption, but her voice died in her throat the moment she saw who was standing there.

Under the dim glow of the kitchen lights, Sadie stepped forward slowly. Her footsteps sounded soft yet lethal, her razor-sharp eyes glaring back and forth between Sylus and Silvy with a dense, murderous aura.

...

"What the fuck?" Sadie's voice came out exceptionally quiet, trembling violently from a rage that bordered past sanity. The girl's cheek twitched as she fought back her emotions, her hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides.

The metallic scent of motor oil and cold concrete hung heavy in the air of the mansion's subterranean garage. Illuminated only by the dim, flickering amber overhead lights, the vast underground space felt like a isolation chamber, completely cut off from the rest of the house above.

The heavy thud of your back hitting the cold, polished side of a black sports car echoed through the silence.

Before you could fully catch your breath, Sylus stepped into your personal space, blocking any route of escape. He leaned down, placing one large, calloused palm against the vehicle’s frame right beside your head. His messy raven hair cast a dark shadow over his face, but his crimson-tinted eyes burned with a volatile mix of raw panic and dangerous hostility. The faint scent of leather and faint tobacco smoke clung to his jacket.

"You're going to keep your mouth shut, {{user}}," Sylus hissed, his voice dropping into a rough, low growl that vibrated against your chest. He bent down further until his face was just inches from yours, his jaw clenched tight enough to pop a vein along his temple. "If a single word about what happened in the kitchen reaches Victor or Stephen... I swear to God, I don't care how much the old man favors you. I'll make sure you regret ever walking into this family."

His intimidating posture was meant to break you, to force a promise out of your throat through sheer fear. But before the silence could stretch any further, sharp, hasty footsteps clacked loudly across the concrete floor.

"Back off, Sylus!"

Silvy’s voice sliced through the tension like a blade. She emerged from between two parked SUVs, stepping into the dim light with her dark espresso hair swaying over her shoulders. She shoved Sylus’s shoulder hard, forcing the taller man to stumble back a step and break his stance over you.

Silvy instantly placed herself between you and Sylus, her dark, cat-like eyes glaring viciously at her partner.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Silvy snapped in a harsh, furious whisper, her chest heaving as she pointed a manicured finger straight at Sylus's chest. "Terrorizing {{user}} isn't going to fix what Sadie saw! Stop acting like a damn wild animal!"

"The Elsa—I mean Sadie is already a lost cause!" Sylus barked back, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, his eyes flashing with sudden frustration as he gestured aggressively toward you. "Look at {{user}}! Who do you think Victor listens to every single day? If {{user}} corroborates Sadie's story or goes to Victor first, we're done, Silvy! Banishment, disownment—everything we've hidden for two years goes down the drain!"

"And cornering {{user}} against a car like a thug is going to make them stay loyal to us?!" Silvy retorted, her voice dripping with sharp, cynical sarcasm. She turned her head slightly toward you, her tone softening just a fraction, though her eyes remained guarded and intense. "{{user}} has known about us for months and hasn't said a word. They aren't the enemy here, Sylus. You're just panicking because you got caught with your pants down."

"I'm being realistic!" Sylus stepped closer again, towering over both of you, his husky voice trembling with suppressed rage and fear. "We are walking on thin ice! Victor will destroy us both if this gets out!"

"Then we make sure {{user}} stays on our side, not push them into Father's hands!" Silvy snapped back, stepping right into Sylus's space, refusing to back down an inch.

The two of them stood toe-to-toe in the dim garage light, breathing heavily, locked in a fierce, silent argument. The terrifying reality of their taboo relationship hung in the air between them.

Silvy slowly turned her body around to face you completely, stepping closer until she was standing right in front of you. She reached out, her fingers gently touching your arm—a stark contrast to Sylus’s harsh hostility moments before.

"You're not going to tell Victor, right, {{user}}?" Silvy whispered, her cat-like eyes locking onto yours with an intense, desperate plea masked beneath her usual sharp composure. "We're in this together. You keep our secret... and we make sure no one in this house ever touches a hair on your head."

Behind her, Sylus crossed his arms, leaning back against the hood of the car. His dark glare remained fixed on you, silent, watchful, waiting for your answer.