The afternoon sun cast a glaring light over the scene, making every detail unbearably vivid. Aurelia Hart's face was streaked with tears, her small hands trembling as she held herself between her raging father and her bruised mother. The crowd had gathered—onlookers with their curious eyes, phones in hand, and mouths sealed shut. No one dared to intervene, even as the man's shouts cut through the air like thunder.
"You're worthless! Both of you!" her father bellowed, his voice carrying across the parking lot like a weapon. "Out of my way, Aurelia, or so help me—"
The twelve-year-old's body shook with fear, but her feet stayed planted. "Stop it! Leave her alone!" Her voice cracked as her tears fell harder. Her small frame was no match for him, yet she stood firm, the weight of the moment pressing on her young shoulders.
The next instant felt like an eternity. Her father's hand raised, casting a shadow over her trembling face. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the strike she couldn't stop. But it never came.
Instead, there was a voice. Deep, commanding, but laced with an unexpected gentleness.
"That's enough."
Aurelia flinched, her eyes snapping open. A man stood before her, tall and broad-shouldered, his presence imposing enough to make her father falter. His dark hair was swept back neatly, but his piercing gray eyes carried a quiet storm. He wasn't shouting, yet his words cut through the chaos as though they carried the weight of law.
"Who the hell are you?" her father snarled, his bravado faltering as two suited men—clearly bodyguards—appeared seemingly out of nowhere and restrained him with practiced ease.
The man ignored the question, stepping closer to Aurelia. His movements were careful, deliberate, as though approaching a frightened animal. She stared at him, unsure whether to feel relief or fear. Then his hand reached out—large and rough, but oddly gentle as it brushed against her hair.
"It's okay," he said softly, crouching to her level. His voice was rough, yet there was a warmth that made her chest tighten. "He can't hurt you anymore. I'll make sure of it."
Aurelia's breath hitched as she blinked up at him, her vision blurred with tears.
His hand still resting lightly on her head. He gave her the faintest smile, as though trying to reassure her that he wasn't a threat. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Aurelia," her voice barely audible.
Behind them, her father's protests grew louder as the bodyguards pinned him to the ground. The sound made her flinch, and Magnus immediately noticed. He stood, placing himself between her and the chaos.
"Aurelia, I need you to do something for me," Magnus said, his voice calm but firm. "Take your mom and step back. Can you do that?"
Aurelia hesitated, glancing at her mother, who was crumpled on the ground, clutching her arms and sobbing quietly. Gathering what little courage she had left, Aurelia nodded. She moved to her mother's side, gently tugging on her sleeve.
"Come on, Mom. Let's move." Her voice wavered, but she managed to steady it enough to get her mother to respond. But her mother pulled back, shaking her head, her tear-streaked face filled with desperation.
"No," her mother murmured, her voice trembling. "I have to help him."
Aurelia froze, disbelief washing over her like ice water. "What? Mom, he's hurting you! You can't..." Her voice broke, her hands tightening around her mother's arm.
Her mother's eyes flicked toward her husband, pinned to the ground and still yelling obscenities. "He's still your father," she whispered, her voice cracking.
Aurelia felt something inside her splinter. She stared at her mother, her chest heaving with uneven breaths. "How can you say that?" she demanded, her voice rising. "He does this every time! He doesn't care about us, Mom! Why do you still..." She couldn't finish the sentence. The words burned in her throat.
The irony of it all hit her like a slap. Her mother, the one who bore the brunt of his anger, still clung to the idea of helping him. Still clung to the man who tore their family apart. Aurelia's tears streamed down her face as the realization settled in—a bitter, twisted truth that felt heavier than anything she'd carried before.
"I'm not helping him," Aurelia said firmly, her voice trembling but resolute. She stepped back, pulling her mother with her. "I won't."
Magnus turned his attention back to her father, his expression darkening. "You have no right to lay a hand on them," he said, his voice low but carrying a dangerous edge. "Men like you disgust me."
"Let me go!" her father spat, struggling against the bodyguards. But they held him firmly, their expressions unreadable as though they'd dealt with worse before.
Magnus gave a slight nod to his men. "Get him out of here. Make sure he doesn't come near them again."
Aurelia watched as her father was dragged away, kicking and cursing. For a moment, she felt a pang of guilt, a flicker of the love she once held for him. But then she looked at her mother, at the bruises on her arms and the despair in her eyes, and the guilt turned to resolve.
Magnus approached them once more, his presence somehow both commanding and comforting. He crouched again, meeting Aurelia's gaze.
"You're brave, Aurelia," he said softly. "Braver than most adults I know. I don't want you to ever forget that."
Aurelia's lip quivered as fresh tears welled in her eyes. "What happens now?" she asked, her voice breaking.
Magnus hesitated for a moment, as though weighing his words. Then he placed a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Now, you're safe," he promised. "I'll make sure of it. Both of you."
It was the first time in what felt like forever that Aurelia dared to believe those words might be true.