“When I found out Elizabeth was carrying my child, I offered assistance and support. But she refused because of the dangerous life I carried. My life was always filled with danger and death, and I wanted to protect her from the brutality.”
He sighed, his gaze growing distant as if he were peering into the tapestry of his memories.
“So I left and returned to my home in Anatolia to continue my duties. But my thoughts and heart were never far from Elizabeth,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “After I left her, I traveled to the Americas and met Dancing Fire. Little did I know that my best friend would fall madly in love with Elizabeth one day.”
A small, wistful smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “But fate works in mysterious ways. Dancing Fire and I agreed that Elizabeth could be with whom she chose.” His tone grew more somber. “Your mother birthed you in the Americas. Your twin brother and you were separated because Lazarus instructed the Great Chief to do so—to protect you both from Salvatore. Salvatore was always watching, searching for Timebornes to corrupt or destroy those who refused to follow his ruthless and vicious ways.”
Pasha Hassan paused, his gaze heavy with emotion.
“Your brother was raised by Dancing Fire, safe from Salvatore’s reach. You, on the other hand, returned to England with your mother.
A heavy sigh escaped him. “When she returned to England, I went back to her. We couldn’t stay away from each other—she understood my dark nature. Our love was powerful, just like the love you and your wife share. I stayed with Elizabeth until you were one year old. Lazarus commanded me to return to my duties. I begged Elizabeth to come with me, but she didn’t think it was safe.”
I sat there, trying to absorb the flood of information, the weight of my unknown history washing over me like a relentless tide.
The air in the study solidified, pressing against me from all sides as Pasha Hassan’s revelations unfolded. I reached out unquestioningly, my hand finding Olivia’s, her touch a lifeline tethering me to reality as my mind threatened to spiral into disbelief.
Pasha Hassan’s voice remained steady as he continued, but there was a subtle bitterness beneath his words. “Your mother knew. She knew of your true destiny, and that one day, it would be time for you to fulfill it. And when you came to her and said you were joining the army, ready to fight for your country in the late 1700s, she was afraid of losing you. You were her last hope, the only one left.”
His eyes met mine, brimming with sadness stretching back through generations. “She was so upset when you had to go.”
“Upset?” The word felt feeble, inadequate to describe the chasm of loss and deception that yawned open before me. My throat tightened as shock gave way to a deep-seated ache. “What about Reyna?”
“Everyone abandoned your mother,” he said, lowering his gaze. “Reyna is your full-blooded sister. When you left for the Americas, I returned to comfort your mother. She and I rekindled our love for each other, and we had Reyna. Together, we raised her until things became dangerous.
His voice faltered momentarily, the weight of the past pressing down on him.
“You and your brother had time-traveled to the past in Rome. Olivia—your Olivia—was soon to enter our lives. And Salvatore... Salvatore was growing furious.” Pasha Hassan paused, his expression darkening as if dredging up a memory too painful to voice.
“He killed your mother,” he finally said, his voice breaking. “To save Reyna, I took her away.”
My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out the distant echoes of the opulent study.
“But Lee told me a different story,” I managed to say, each word scraping raw the lining of my soul.
“Lee and I concocted that story,” Pasha Hassan said, his tone heavy with guilt. “To protect you.”
“Protect me?” I asked hollowly. “Lee said he married Elizabeth and then buried her when she died.”
Pasha Hassan’s face twisted in anguish, his voice strained and tense. “Lee and I have been your protectors for years, shielding you from Salvatore’s grasp. We lied about our alliance with Lazarus because Salvatore has been watching Lee for some time now. He suspects that Lee is working with Lazarus—and he is—but Lee cleverly plays the role of an innocent pawn to divert suspicion. “Your mother meant everything to Lee. He loved her deeply, but she chose me. She was my wife, the love of my life. And it was Salvatore who took her life when his plans began to unravel.”
His words punctured the last fragile thread of hope I had clung to, and the tears I’d held back broke through the dam of my willpower, flooding my vision.
I bowed my head, weeping for the goodbye I never had, for the mother I thought I knew but didn’t, and for the woman whose memory was now a fractured tapestry of truth and deception.
“Your mother is gone from this world,” Pasha Hassan said, his voice heavy with regret. “But she is now a prisoner in another world. One day, you may have the chance to see her again.”
“Another world?” Confusion mingled with my grief, forming a maelstrom of emotions I could barely navigate. “What do you mean?”
“Time has layers, Roman,” Pasha Hassan explained, his voice steady yet haunting. “Some battles are fought beyond the realms we see and understand.”
Olivia’s hand tightened in mine, grounding me as his revelations unraveled everything I thought I knew.
“I have always been a part of your life,” he said, his tone unwavering, as though this admission carried the weight of a thousand hidden truths. “I have watched over you and your brother, ensuring your survival.”
The room seemed to tilt under the weight of his words.
“Watched over me?” I managed, my voice strained, teetering between disbelief and yearning.
