The family photo room felt different from every other room Maya had seen inside the mansion.
Not because it was larger.
Not because it was more luxurious.
But because it felt lived in.
Real.
The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with framed photographs collected over decades. Some were formal portraits. Others looked spontaneous. There were birthday celebrations, graduations, vineyard gatherings, vacations, weddings, anniversaries, and moments that clearly hadn't been intended for public viewing but had somehow become treasured memories anyway.
Every frame carried evidence that this family had once laughed together.
That they had once belonged to each other completely.
Maya moved slowly through the room, absorbing everything.
The scent of polished wood lingered softly in the air. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows overlooking the gardens, illuminating the photographs in warm golden light.
And directly in the center of the room stood the largest portrait of all.
The Hastings family.
Maya found herself staring at it.
Unable to look away.
Olga and Roman sat together on an elegant armchair.
Hand in hand.
Younger.
Happier.
More relaxed.
Roman's expression immediately caught her attention.
Because he was smiling.
Actually smiling.
Not the restrained expression she knew now.
Not the controlled face of a powerful businessman.
But a genuine smile.
The kind that reached his eyes.
Olga looked radiant beside him.
Ivan sat casually on one arm of Roman's chair.
Rege sat on Olga's side.
Andrei, Maxim, and Nikolai stood behind them.
A much younger Nadia sat cross-legged at their feet with her head resting against Roman's lap.
Every single person in the photograph was smiling.
Even Rege.
Maya blinked.
That alone felt almost unbelievable.
A younger Rege looked relaxed.
Carefree.
Happy.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
"What happened?" she wondered quietly.
The question slipped into her mind before she could stop it.
How had they gone from this...
To what they were now?
Beside her, Nadia smiled softly.
She had followed Maya's gaze.
And immediately knew what she was looking at.
"I was thirteen when we took that photo."
Maya turned toward her.
Nadia's eyes remained fixed on the portrait.
A nostalgic smile touched her lips.
"I had just started high school."
She pointed.
"Rege was preparing for Harvard after his gap years."
Then toward the others.
"Ivan and Andrei were already working in the company."
She laughed softly.
"Maxim and Nikolai had just returned from vineyard training."
Maya studied the photograph again.
The happiness felt almost tangible.
Like it had been captured permanently inside the frame.
"You all look so happy."
Nadia nodded.
"We were."
The answer came quietly.
No hesitation.
No pretending.
Just truth.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Maya asked before she could stop herself.
"What happened?"
The words escaped.
Immediately afterward she winced.
"Oh God."
She covered her face.
"I'm sorry."
Nadia laughed softly.
"You really don't have a filter, do you?"
Maya groaned.
"I don't mean to."
"I know."
Nadia squeezed her hand gently.
"You're fine."
Her smile softened.
"Besides..."
She glanced toward the portrait again.
"If you're family now, then you deserve to know."
The words made Maya's heart skip.
Family.
No one in the Hastings family used that word lightly.
Nadia guided them toward a nearby divan.
They sat together beneath the portrait.
Still holding hands.
For several seconds Nadia remained quiet.
Organizing old memories.
Then she began.
"We used to be very close."
Her eyes remained distant.
Lost somewhere years behind them.
"Rege was supposed to be the last child."
She laughed softly.
"Then my parents decided otherwise."
Maya smiled.
"I can't imagine you not existing."
"Neither can I."
They both laughed.
The laughter faded.
Nadia continued.
"Everything started changing when Rege decided to study architecture."
Maya blinked.
"Architecture?"
Nadia nodded.
"He always loved design."
Her smile grew.
"Buildings. Structures. Creating things."
She shook her head.
"Even when he was little."
The fondness in her voice was unmistakable.
"But Father didn't approve."
Maya immediately understood.
Because she knew Roman.
And Roman liked certainty.
Control.
Tradition.
"He wanted Rege to follow the exact path everyone else followed."
Nadia shrugged.
"The problem is..."
Her eyes sparkled faintly.
"Rege has never followed anyone's path."
Maya laughed softly.
That sounded exactly right.
"He made his own."
Pride entered Nadia's voice.
"And later he made sure I could make mine too."
Maya looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a designer because of him."
The answer came instantly.
"Father wanted something different."
"But Rege supported me."
Her smile softened.
"He always has."
Maya's chest warmed.
Somehow every story about Rege revealed another side of him.
One he rarely showed himself.
"The disagreement with Father became the beginning of everything."
Nadia exhaled slowly.
"Maxim, Nikolai and I without a doubt supported Rege."
She rolled her eyes.
"Ivan supported Father."
Maya wasn't surprised.
"And Andrei?"
That made Nadia laugh.
"Oh, Andrei."
She shook her head.
"Andrei has always followed Ivan since childhood."
Maya smiled.
That explained a lot.
"Like a loyal soldier, he's more attached to Ivan than any of us."
For several moments they sat quietly.
Looking at the portrait.
Looking at people who seemed so much happier.
The large portrait remained directly in front of them.
Six siblings.
Two parents.
One family.
Frozen forever inside a moment that no longer existed.
The afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the photo room, washing the polished wooden floors in soft golden light. Dust motes drifted lazily through the air while countless framed memories lined every wall.
It felt less like a room.
And more like a museum dedicated to a family that had somehow lost itself.
"So what did Mum do?" Maya asked softly.
Her eyes remained on the portrait.
Olga looked so happy there.
So proud.
So complete.
Nadia followed her gaze.
A small smile appeared on her lips.
One filled with affection.
And sadness.
"She tried," Nadia said quietly.
The words carried years of exhaustion.
"Mum tried harder than anyone."
Her fingers tightened slightly around Maya's hand.
"She kept organizing dinners. Family vacations. Birthdays. Christmas gatherings."
A soft laugh escaped her.
"At one point she even made us attend weekly family movie nights."
Maya smiled.
"I can picture that."
Nadia groaned dramatically.
"It was horrible."
Maya laughed.
Nadia's expression softened.
"But she never gave up."
Her gaze drifted toward Olga's smiling face in the portrait.
"She kept believing we'd find our way back to each other."
Silence settled briefly between them.
Then Nadia sighed.
"But she didn't count on Eleanor making things worse."
Maya looked at her carefully.
Nor Eleanor.
Nor Roman.
Nor Ivan.
This family seemed built on complicated loyalties.
"And Father became harder on Rege as the years passed."
Something flickered across Nadia's face.
Something old.
Something painful.
"Father used to adore him."
Maya blinked.
"Really?"
Nadia laughed softly.
"Oh, completely."
She pointed toward the portrait.
"Before all of this happened, Rege was practically attached to Father."
That surprised Maya.
Because the Roman she knew now barely spoke to Rege.
Yet somehow she could imagine it.
A younger Rege following Roman through meetings.
Watching him work.
Learning from him.
Admiring him.
The image made her chest ache unexpectedly.
"He still loves Rege," Nadia continued.
"Father loves all of us."
Then her smile weakened.
"But he's stubborn."
The understatement nearly made Maya laugh.
"And he doesn't want to hurt Ivan, the son who devoted his entire life to him."
Maya hesitated before asking,
"But why would supporting Rege hurt Ivan?"
Nadia looked unsurprised by the question.
Because everyone eventually asked it.
The answer simply wasn't pleasant.
She leaned back slightly.
Searching for the right words.
"Because Ivan has spent his entire life preparing to become Roman Hastings."
The sentence landed heavily.
Maya stayed silent.
Listening.
"He followed every rule."
Nadia's voice remained calm.
"Every expectation."
"He studied what Father wanted."
"Worked where Father wanted."
"Lived exactly how Father wanted."
A pause.
Then—
"Ivan dedicated his entire identity to becoming the heir."
Maya finally understood.
A little.
Not completely.
But enough.
Nadia continued.
"Then Rege happened."
Maya smiled despite herself.
The wording sounded oddly appropriate.
Nadia laughed.
She pointed toward the portrait again.
"Before Rege, Ivan was considered the brilliant one."
"He still is brilliant."
Her tone carried immediate sincerity.
"All my brothers are."
Then she shook her head.
"But Rege..."
She laughed softly.
"Rege is different."
Maya smiled faintly.
Yes.
He definitely was.
"Everything came naturally to him."
Nadia's eyes sparkled with reluctant admiration.
"School."
"Business."
"Architecture."
"Investments."
"Strategy."
"Problem-solving."
"He'd walk into a room and somehow solve something people had spent weeks arguing about."
Maya wasn't surprised.
Not even slightly.
Nadia sighed.
"And Ivan hated that."
Not because Rege tried to compete.
But because he never did.
"He never cared about being first."
Nadia shook her head.
"He just did whatever interested him."
The words reminded Maya so much of Rege that she almost laughed.
That was exactly him.
Entirely himself.
Without apology.
Without explanation.
Without permission.
"And somehow," Nadia continued, "that made him even more threatening."
Maya looked back toward the portrait.
Toward the younger Rege sitting beside Olga.
The smile on his face looked effortless.
Unburdened.
Free.
She wondered when that smile disappeared.
And why.
"Honestly," Nadia admitted, "the rest of us could have outshined Ivan if we'd wanted to."
Maya looked surprised.
Nadia laughed.
"What?"
"I wasn't expecting that."
"It's true."
She shrugged.
"We simply didn't care enough."
Then her grin turned mischievous.
"Except Rege."
Maya laughed.
"Of course."
"He couldn't care less."
The laughter faded.
"And Father couldn't choose."
The words came quietly.
"Support the son who obeyed him."
"Or support the son who challenged him."
Maya's chest tightened.
Because both choices sounded heartbreaking.
"And there are things between Father and Rege that only they truly understand."
The sadness in Nadia's voice returned.
Maya looked back toward the portrait.
The family there looked invincible.
United.
Happy.
Whole.
The portrait stared back.
Frozen in time.
Maya looked at Roman's smiling face.
Then at Rege's.
And suddenly she felt sad.
Because people deserved happiness.
Families deserved happiness.
She swallowed softly.
"You know..."
Nadia turned toward her.
Her voice came almost like a whisper.
"I think you all deserve this again. You all look too happy here for things to stay broken forever."
The sincerity in Maya's voice made Nadia pause.
Maya looked back toward the portrait.
"You shouldn't lose something like this for anything in this world."
Emotion flickered across Nadia's face.
Then she squeezed Maya's hand.
A little tighter.
Nadia stared at her.
Then smiled.
A real smile.
One filled with hope.
Because Maya said things like that.
And somehow made people believe them.
"Maybe."
The answer sounded hopeful.
For the first time.
Maybe.