The news of Blair's kidnapping struck the Wilson and Taylor families like a tidal wave, shattering the tranquility of what had been an ordinary family dinner. Blair, the darling of both families, known for her cheerfulness and infectious laughter, was gone. She had been the joy that connected the two families, always darting between them with a boundless energy that captivated everyone.
That night, chaos engulfed the house. Plates shattered on the floor as panic set in. They made frantic calls, everyone became invested in finding her. The Wilsons mobilized their network while the Taylors wasted no time. Ezra, at the young age of ten, could only watch in stunned silence as the adults turned their world upside down to bring her back. The skilled doctors at Wilson Memorial Hospital were already prepared to save her before she was even found. All anyone talked about was Blair—how they had to rescue her and how she had to be okay.
Ezra stood on the sidelines, confused, frightened—but no one explained anything to him.
When they finally rescued Blair, they rushed her to the hospital, and the best doctors worked tirelessly to treat her. But what Ezra didn't know—what no one had bothered to tell him—was that Blair wasn't the only one who had been taken that night.
It wasn't until Ezra arrived at the hospital that he found out. Nathaly Taylor, his mother, was already on the brink of death. No doctors tended to her. No one even mentioned her name.
Ezra stood beside her hospital bed, watching her frail body struggle to breathe. He was just a kid, standing there alone, while everyone else buzzed around the other rooms, frantically saving their princess.
"Take care of Blair," she whispered, her voice cracking, her words like knives to Ezra's heart. "As your younger sister."
Ezra's heart shattered. Not him. Not her own son. She didn't tell him to be strong, didn't ask him to be brave or say that she loved him. Instead, her dying words were about Blair.
"Please," she whispered again, her eyes dimming. "Protect her."
With those words, she passed away.
And Ezra, only ten years old, stood beside his mother's lifeless body, devastated and broken. His chest burned with grief, confusion, and a resentment so profound that he couldn't yet comprehend it. No one was there to console him or to hold him.
A month after Nathaly's death and Blair's rescue, the finance and investment firm founded by Ezra's mother's family was on the brink of collapse. Despite his father's effort, the company faced mounting losses, and bankruptcy loomed over their once-thriving businesses.
Everything changed when Blair woke up.
It had been weeks since the incident, and when her eyes finally fluttered open, the first word she uttered was Ezra's name. No one could approach her—not even her own parents. Blair had withdrawn from the world, too frightened to allow anyone near. Her mind was a blur, with the details of the kidnapping locked away in an inaccessible part of her memory. All she knew, all she trusted, was Ezra.
She clung to him, her small hands gripping his shirt as if letting go would plunge her back into the horror she could barely remember. Ezra, still grappling with his own grief and resentment, was the only one capable of coaxing her to eat or calming her during her frequent panic attacks. Whenever Blair felt herself spiraling into fear, only Ezra's presence could pull her back from the brink.
She didn't remember the kidnapping—not the faces of her captors, nor the actions they had taken—but the trauma lingered like a shadow. She would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, her mind haunted by nightmares she couldn't fully comprehend. Sometimes, she dreamed of being trapped in a moving car without a driver; other times, a figure chased her wearing a terrifying mask. Yet, regardless of the dream, she always awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for air. It was Ezra who sat by her bedside during those nights, soothing her until her breathing steadied and she drifted back to sleep, embracing him.
During this challenging period, Kennedy Wilson recognized Damon's struggles and extended a helping hand. He offered the Taylor family a lifeline—a new business venture, fully funded by the Wilson Group, to assist Damon in rebuilding what he had lost. However, there was a catch. He would need to relinquish the finance and investment firm established by his wife's family, declaring bankruptcy as a strategic maneuver to avert further losses. It was a hard decision to accept, but it was their only viable option.
As Damon accepted the offer as his last resort, Ezra watched the world crash around him. The offer, presented by Kennedy, provided them with a chance to survive and start anew. However, it weighed heavily on Ezra, like an anchor around his neck, causing him to drown in a sea of resentment and hatred. It wasn't fair. He couldn't shake the feeling that Kennedy's help had a singular motive: Blair. Everything revolved around her—the girl who indirectly caused her mother's death.
As Ezra accepted his award for exceptional achievement in computer science in his specialized course at a young age of 14, his icy gaze scanned the crowd until it landed on a familiar face.
He was stunned to see Blair's radiant smile in the crowd. Without a second thought, he rushed down from the stage and pulled her into a quieter corner, desperate to ensure she felt safe. "What are you doing here?!" he yelled at her.
Blair's eyes sparkled with confidence as she looked up at him. "My therapist said I am completely healed now," she replied, her voice resolute and enthusiastic. "I wanted to be here for you. I'm so proud of you, and I couldn't miss this moment."
Ezra studied her for a moment. "Are you sure? You know how dangerous this could be for you," he said, his voice tinged with skepticism. "Can you breathe, okay? You're not just pretending to be fine, are you?"
She smiled, her confidence unwavering. "I promise, I'm really okay. To prove it, I've organized a big party for you!" Her eyes sparkled with excitement. "I wanted to celebrate your achievement and bring everyone together. It's going to be amazing!"
As days turned into years, every achievement—no matter how small—was celebrated with Ezra. Yet, with each party, a storm brewed within him. He felt a growing sense of frustration and anger simmering beneath the surface. Why did he have to celebrate with the very people he despised? The laughter and cheers felt suffocating, drowning him in emotions he couldn't articulate.
Flashback to his eighteenth birthday:
Blair quietly stepped in at exactly midnight, carrying a small piano stool. She placed it outside his door; her face beaming with excitement.
"I have something different for you this year, brother," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Every year on Ezra's birthday, Blair never failed to surprise him at midnight, determined to be the first to congratulate him. She always arrived with a gift, her eyes sparkling with excitement, making it a cherished tradition—one that Ezra could never escape, despite his attempts to appear indifferent.
Ezra raised an eyebrow and clenched his teeth.
She giggled as she set up the small electric keyboard she had brought in. "This one's special, I promise."
Before Ezra could protest, Blair began playing a beautiful and intricate piece—a composition she had been perfecting for months. As she poured her heart into the music, each note resonated with profound meaning, leaving Ezra speechless and astonished by the dedication she had invested in it.
Blair beamed with pride. "Happy birthday, Brother Ezra!" she exclaimed. "I've been secretly taking piano lessons for months to surprise you, and this song is just for you."
Blair couldn't help but boast. "I hid it well, didn't I?" She laughed, feeling proud of her accomplishment. "I knew I could surprise you this time!"
She looked at him with her wide, pleading eyes and said, "Now you owe me something. Just once, for your birthday... Can you smile? For real?"
Ezra's typically stoic expression wavered for a moment.
With a deep breath, he forced a small smile, though it felt unnatural. Then, he urged Blair to go home, hoping she would take the hint, but she was resolute in her decision to stay. Her stubbornness reminded him of how much she valued her traditions, always striving to keep them alive, even when he wished to distance himself from her.
She settled onto the huge couch, curled up next to Ezra. She hummed the melody from her earlier performance, a tune filled with light and warmth, the notes wrapping around them like a cozy blanket.
Ezra watched her as her eyes fluttered shut, surrendering to the music. Blair's humming gradually softened, her eyelids growing heavy with sleep. He felt her body relax against him, the gentle rise and fall of her breath synchronizing with the fading notes. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her, cradling her as she nestled deeper into his side, her small form fitting perfectly against him. Despite the heaviness in his chest, he found himself drawn into her world—her innocent joy and unwavering spirit.
Little did she know that for Ezra, each time she called his name and leaned into him, it was like a dagger thrust deep into his heart, amplifying the resentment and hatred he struggled to suppress. Her laughter and happiness felt like salt pouring into his open wounds.