A/N: Ahaha, I'm sorry for the wait. It just grew really busy the last couple of months and I unfortunately have to give you guys notice that the updates might be dragged out a bit due to having my mock exams soon which I HAVE to focus on. I really want to do well, and I'll try to make time for this when I have breaks in between.

Again, I want to thank you guys for your support and amazing favourite, follow and reviews.

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

To Lambo's relief, nothing happened the first week in his new room that his father—Claudio—placed him in. Yet, he found himself unable to relax, not when Lambo knew Claudio was up to something. Even Nina was worried over his safety, evident through her concerned muttering and nervous wringing of her apron as she paced back and forth. Growing teary eyed when Lambo expresses a single hint of stress or misery at his aunt's absence before swooping in to hug him. At the fear that shows through once in a while whenever Lambo thinks about Claudio's schemes, and it was wearing him thin.

The room he was placed in, the jail, was gloomy compared to his bright coloured nursery room. Walls a maroon red and a bed with plain white sheets, no longer a crib, but an honest to go master bed for the two years-old. So very artificial in its making. Lambo hadn't slept well the first couple of days.

At the side of the room, there was a desk, a chair and a window overlooking a vast garden that allows Lambo to breathe a little at the view. Framed by long dark curtains that looked heavy from a far and even heavier once he tugged at it. And at the wall from across his bed, there's a door that leads straight to Nina's room,

At the side of the room, there was a desk, a chair and a window overlooking a vast garden that allows Lambo to breathe at the view. Framed by long dark curtains that looked heavy from a far and even heavier once he tugged at it. And at the wall across from his bed, there's a door that leads straight to Nina's room if he ever needed her for something. At the side, there was a built in wardrobe that was much bigger than Lambo expected one he had thrown it open to see the sheer depth of it.

It was hardly plain though with the rich canopy hanging over the bed and the soft flooring underneath him. The grand double door that astonishes him as he gazes up, up and up. Marvelling at the tall entity that was supposed to be his doorway.

Lambo had been overwhelmed. Mostly Oliver who had compared it to a real-life princess room except edgier than what you would stereotypically see.

It wasn't a reassuring thought.

Nor was the idea that Lambo would no longer be able to see Aunt Ottavia.

A worry crosses him as the last sight he had of Ottavia was her pained face pressed against the floor and her desperate screams ringing through his ears. Lambo wonders if she's alright after that encounter. If she's safe and not hurt. Lambo couldn't ask Claudio as the man hadn't visited even once during his time stuck in this godforsaken jailhouse.

However, it was only a few days later when his father came, his still form hovering outside his doorway like a spectre observing the living. Lambo raised his shoulders warily at the sudden appearance, trying to depict what he wanted while Claudio did the same. It was a showdown between father and son whose eyes held nothing but the same calculative gleam.

Lambo's hatred for their similarities grew.

"Your tutor is here." Claudio had only announced once he finished his observations, revealing a bland suited man standing beside him.

Lambo reeled back incredulously at his words, wondering seriously if Claudio was actually going to sick a tutor at him at this time of age? Is he crazy? He's still only two despite his older mentality that gave him this supposed intelligence Claudio's been enamoured with!

"Master Bovino, you can't be serious!" Nina burst out for Lambo's sake. "He's still but a child—an infant!"

The Boss of the Bovino Famiglia glowered poisonously at her, "Be silent. You have no rights in questioning my authority. Do you want to be exiled from my son's care?"

"N-No, sir." At his threat, Nina lowered her head with watery eyes, trembling with fear under Claudio's glare.

Lambo fisted the fabric of his pants to steel the anger that coursed through him at the sight.

"Lambo." The man turned back towards his son sitting at the edge of his bed. "I expect good results from you."

Once Claudio got his message out, he was quick to exit his room when Lambo jumped out of his bed.

"Wait!"

The man paused, coldly staring back at him with brown eyes. Lambo breathed in deeply, tightening his small fists.

"What have you done with Aunt Ottavia?" Lambo questioned with narrowed eyes.

Claudio gazed at him silently, mouth set in a thin line with contemplation. There was a moment of silence that leaves Lambo uncomfortable, but it was through his concern for Ottavia that drove him to stare resolutely forwards. Unwilling to back down despite the intimidating nature that was Claudio.

"Nothing." Claudio answered after a while. "However, don't concern yourself with that woman, it's not like you'll see her again."

And with that, the man walked out the door, leaving Lambo to helplessly watch him go with a growing despair in his chest. Deaf to the voice of his middle-aged tutor telling him to get to his desk with apathetic eyes. Only hearing Claudio's last words on repeat as he stared into thin air. It was only through the tutors threat to report his behaviour to his father, something that he knew logically would end very badly for Lambo, that made him drag his small legs across the span of the room. Nina hovering distraught over his expressionless face before being dismissed by his tutor, forcing her to linger by her door for a second before leaving with a pinched face.

This continued for weeks, months, every day with the tutor coming in and teaching Lambo what he needed to know. Luckily enough, most of things that's being taught to him was something he already knew from his extensive knowledge collected by Oliver. Starting easily with simple maths and terms, history that was the exact same, and sciences that he excelled in. Some languages he studied at school that was a bit more difficult. And just when Lambo had gotten a hang of it, the problems grew harder, growing in complexity and detail. History branching out to all kinds of places, including mafia history and its own theories. He had studied hard, trying to keep up and get them all correct until he finally got one—

"-wrong. The Klaida Settimo was Muev." His tutor had stated one day, sounding suspiciously pleased.

Lambo had only lowered his head in apology. Instead of accepting it like he had initially thought, the man grabbed a metal ruler out and ordered him to put his hands out. When he did, the man struck them.

Lambo cried out when the ruler met his knuckles, pulling them close to his chest. There was a moment of pain that seemed to last for ages before disappearing into a pulsing numbness and Lambo threw an alarmed look at his tutor that only grinned horribly.

"Hope you get it right the next time." The man says sardonically, placing the ruler down on the desk in clear warning of what would happen next.

Lambo bit his lips, feeling the way his fingers throbbed, already turning a cherry red from the impact. Everything about this felt wrong, vile, and Lambo wanted to scream at the man. To tell him that this wasn't right. However, staring at those dark eyes (—cold, cold, just like his father's—), Lambo had no choice but to do as he was told. If only to escape the pain for a little longer. No matter how much the part of him as Oliver wanted to lash out at the man.

Months in, Lambo was beginning to feel exhausted as he studied his hands. Sitting hunched by the edge of the bed in a trance. Fingers twitching as their swollen parts looked an ugly purple, and each time he tried to bend them, pain screamed out. With drooping eyes, Lambo tried to pick up the paper he had dropped earlier—his homework for today—and flinched, trembling as the paper slipped out of his grip.

Staring at it, there was moment of shocked daze before Lambo buried his eyes into his palms. Headful of his fingers that faced the ceiling as he took deep, shallow breaths. Everything felt so surreal to him, almost like a long nightmare that he wants desperately to escape from. He wishes Aunt Ottavia could be here to bring something to his life, more than the hollow feeling that corrodes into his very being. To feel her warmth and see her smile that has more than once comforted him in the worst of days.

Lambo looked up slowly, wavering when he saw his reflection from the mirror placed in front of him, and felt a great dislike at what he saw.

God, he was but a child. Large toddler eyes staring straight back at him with a tiredness seen only in adults, emerald like his birth mother that has long since left. Black hair curled around his ears and neck, contrasting against his pale skin that is in dire need of some exposure to the sun, and a hashtag birthmark adorning the left side of his cheekbone. Like an exact copy of his father—except slimmer and softer, a delicacy inherited from his mother, Maria.

Lambo felt sick to his bones. Wondering if anyone would force their own child to be groomed like he was, a mere two-year-old infant no less. It was mad. Even when he knew the Arcobaleno themselves were only around the ages of one to four, capable of incredible feats with their small bodies much like his. On the other hand, it was Oliver that couldn't wrap his head around that excuse. It went against everything he was taught while growing up: to take care of people, to know that this wasn't normal and that it wasn't right.

That he grew up watching his younger cousins and their uniquely different ideas and thoughts. Taking care of them and babysitting them with utmost care and humouring words as he watched them grow up to become the people they are today—or then, that is. That there was no need for suffering and pain to accomplish that. He's seen enough what this hurt can do to a child. Seen enough papers, news and research to know that they'll grow up to be broken. Detached. Even if he was mentally older, what would happen in the long run? He still had the body of a child and a developing brain too. All those neurological pathways, hormones, growth spurts and everything in between. Just how much will this upbringing fuck up his physical and emotional spectrum? The implications were endless.

It was the sound of the doors opening that snapped Lambo back to the living, trapped air shuddering out from his lips as he whirled towards it with wide eyes. Lambo quickly glanced back and forth between his fingers and Nina that came in through the doorway with a growing nervousness. She was distracted, carrying a serving tray in her hands while balancing the contents hidden inside with an oval lid. Once she kicked the door closed, her pale face brightened upon the sight of him. The happy hum she came in with died quickly when she saw his blackening fingers, and gasped horrified.

"Young Master Lambo!" Nina shrieked, hurrying to his side to inspect his bruised fingers. In her haste, she nearly spilled the contents of the tray with how carelessly she slammed the tray on top of the bedside table before kneeling down next to him.

She gently cupped his hands, lips curled as if preventing herself from crying outright.

"W-We need to put ointment for this." With quivering hands, Nina pulled on the drawer of the bedside table. Reaching inside, the maid pulled a first aid kit from it, having long gotten used to her young master's growing injuries. While Nina pulled out the appropriate things to use for the bruises, Lambo watched her with muted silence. Letting soft hands to hold his own with such care that Lambo couldn't help but wonder if he looked fragile to her. Breakable.

Lambo closed his eyes, taking the time to calm his conflicted feelings on the matter as he felt the salve getting applied on his skin.

"What have they done to you?" Nina whispered as she bruised over the bruises, tears already gathering at the edges of her beautiful eyes, before being frantically rubbed away with the sleeves of her dress.

Lambo widened his eyes at the tears and flustered waved his hands in an attempt to console her, "Don't cry, Nina. It's OK."

At the sound of his infant voice, Nina hitched her breath in anger, "No, it's not!"

As if startled by her own voice, Nina wilted in on herself.

"No child should deserve this." She whispered out.

"Nina…" Lambo spoke softly, only to hiss in pain when she started wrapped his fingers with bandages.

"I wish I could help." Nina lowered her eyes at his small hands, pain stricken at the sight of them. "I wish for you to be happy, Young Master."

"I know, Nina. I know." He replies. It was hard not to when all he's heard from her is that exact phrase in the last couple of weeks. Lambo mustered the brightest smile he could. "Please don't cry. I would hate to see someone important to me be sad. So please, wipe those tears away. I'm positive I'll be fine. You don't have to worry, Nina."

Nina looked at him with an expression full of doubt. Blue-grey eyes swirling with all kinds of emotions before she dutifully wiped the tears away. She took a deep breath in and shook her head to dispel the blue mood. A hesitant smile graced her lips and Lambo grinned at the sight.

There was a moment of companionable silence before Nina burst up with a startled 'oh'. Putting a fist into the palm of her hands in remembrance.

"I almost forgot!"

Whirling around to face towards the nightstand, Nina grew excited.

"I have something for you, Young Master!"

With a curious tilt of his head, Lambo eyed the tray that was brought over. Held delicately in both of her hands as she presented it towards him. Nina opened the lid with fervour, and the boy blinked at the sight. It was a cake. Decorated in beautiful sets of edible red and white roses, strawberries and cherries scattered around in a spring theme. In the middle, there stood three unlit candles as if celebrating something.

Lambo failed to understand, "I…what is this, Nina?"

Nina's expectant face dropped, "I, this is—you can't have forgotten, have you, Young Master?"

At Lambo's blank expression, Nina lowered her tray in trepidation. "It's May, Young Master, it's—it's the 25th…it's your birthday."

It suddenly dawned on Lambo who had forgotten, and to make it worse, he blurted out a surprised, "It is?"

Nina's dismay and horror amplified to the point she had to put her tray down to fling herself at him while bursting into another set of tears. Lambo spread his arms out in alarm as he caught her, trying to preserve his fingers from getting jolted as he sat with Nina crying in his arms. Bawling at his supposed hesitancy and childlike wonder at the sudden reveal, as if something magical happened for the first time in his life.

"Young Master, I'm so sorry!" Nina cried out inconsolably.

Lambo sighed, biting his lips at how he'll defuse this situation without appearing even more vulnerable. He didn't know a way to breach the subject that he hadn't forgotten his birthday, at least, not his old one. Instead, Lambo murmured softly into Nina's golden hair, telling her that it's OK and that it wasn't her fault—trying to lull her cries again. It only made her cry harder, her wails louder, and Lambo couldn't understand why this was the case.

After the disaster he called a birthday, Lambo was surprised when he found out that he's been summoned the next day—by his father no less. Something about a nice friendly talk together in a rather harmless environment. Lambo had called bullshit as he allowed Nina to dress him up in his best clothes. Throwing on a white button-up shirt, knee-length pants, black slacks and white stockings pulled just below the knee. Tucking his neck up, Nina then wrapped a black ribbon around his neck that trailed down his torso.

Lambo scrunched his face at that, disliking the fact that it made him feel like a fluffed kitten ready to be gifted to a belated child. Even more affronted when Nina gushed how adorable it made him look. Pouting, Lambo crossed his arms, careful with his wrapped fingers and threw his head to the side. He doesn't want to look cute, he wants to look deadly, ferocious and ready to commit murder with his eyes alone. After all, they are a poisonous green.

Glancing quietly up from his short bangs, Lambo noted that Nina looked much better than she did yesterday. He sighed in relief. Lambo didn't know what to do if Nina had cried again.

"Young Master Lambo, it's time to depart." She informed with a polite bow.

Lambo fiddled with his ribbon.

"You…can just call me Lambo, you know." Lambo commented shyly. "You're family, after all."

At the admission, Nina straightened her back quickly, wide eyes cast at her young charge. At her lack of response, Lambo started to shuffle his legs nervously, wondering if he had said something wrong.

Instead, a gentle smile erupted from his maid, and with another bow, she said, "I am honoured with your permission, and will gladly agree if this only occurs in private, Young Master."

Lambo nodded enthusiastically, understanding her point of view with different status and all.

"Well then," Nina tilted her head to the side with bright eyes, holding the door with one hand out. "Let's get going...Lambo."

At the sound of his name, title gone, Lambo couldn't help but beam. It was like feeling normal again, without needing the worries of status weighing him down and the fact he was an adult in a child's body—and it felt amazing. It reminds him of Aunt Ottavia, who had always laughed, cried, and sang his name with only warm intentions, and he wonders once again how she's doing. Shaking his head, Lambo decided not to dwell less he depressed himself, and walks out of his room.

The stroll to his father's office was a long one, a couple of minutes of just twisting and turning through endless hallways that never seemed to seize, and the more it continues, the more nervous he grew. And when he grew nervous, he fiddled with anything he could find, which is currently his sleeves. Nina only sent him a reassuring gaze at the habit, but Lambo knew better. She was just as nervous as he was.

It was several minutes later before Lambo found himself facing a big doorway, fancier than his own, and he knew logically that this was his destination. Nina patted his shoulder once in encouragement and started backing away.

"I will see you soon, Lambo." She said softly, and Lambo refrained from childishly grabbing her dress to prevent her from leaving him alone, watching blankly as she left.

Lambo turned his head back towards the door, breathing deeply in preparation and made his way towards the door before he makes Claudio wait any longer. Bracing his hands against the door, Lambo pushed.

The office was big with open windows gushing light from the back of the expanse, bookcases lining up from both sides of the wall, and in the middle sat his father. Lambo tensed at the man sitting calmly behind his desk, the sun on his back casting shadows over his face. The man in question only watched him with blank eyes before a false quirk of his lips made its way towards Lambo. The Don of the Bovino Famiglia nodded at the chair in front of his desk, like it wasn't conveniently placed just for him.

"Take a seat." Claudio said with his fingers interlocked.

Lambo squared his shoulders, forcing his legs to walk the length of the room for his chair that faced his father dead on. Green eyes were held carefully blank as he sat down.

"You've grown." His father stated after a moment. Lambo placed his hands politely over his lap in reply, a poise that belonged characteristically to his aunt. By the annoyed tick in Claudio's eye at the familiar stance, no doubt recognizing it, Lambo refrained from smiling smugly at him.

"I would hope so." Lambo bit out before snapping his mouth shut just as quick when he realised what he had said.

Claudio only hummed, unbothered by the rudeness, "Apologies. It's just been awhile since I've last seen you. I thought we could celebrate your birthday as it occurred yesterday. Again, my apologies for missing it. I've been rather busy."

Lambo stilled, confused by the sincere apology from the man. Yet, the bafflement never lasted as his eyes sharpened, distrust growing in his chest. Claudio was not a man that would make amends such as these from what Lambo's observed. Especially not to his own son who was nothing but a 'experiment' to him if Aunt Ottavia's words were to be true.

Lambo looked cautiously down.

"It's alright. Birthdays are just another date in the year—it's no different from yesterday or tomorrow, or the day after. It…really doesn't matter." Lambo appeased, glancing up from underneath his bands, and nearly grimaced when Claudio's face twisted in approval at his words.

"Smart boy." Claudio complimented with mirth gleaming out from his eyes.

Lambo stopped stalling in fear the conversation would lead to somewhere even worse, "What's the real reason you've called me for, sir?"

His father quirked a brow at this, "You're quite well spoken for a three year-old. Strange sight."

Lambo ignored the curiosity in his eyes, as if trying to dissect him and figure out every little thing about him. Claudio leaned back in disappointment when Lambo failed to reply, "However, you're right. I did call you here for other reasons than just to wish you a belated birthday. Or un-belated, considering your earlier words."

Claudio's face fell blank, brown eyes gone cold as they stared down at Lambo, "I want you to partake in a small experiment of mine."

As the words sunk in, Lambo froze, hardly believing what he was hearing. This is what Aunt Ottavia warned him about, his father's experiments, and now it's finally coming to light. Lambo gripped the fabric of his pants, green eyes glaring as they set his father—this man with hostility.

"What kind of experiment." Lambo demanded, refusing to give in despite the hard look that was sent his way.

Claudio observed him before closing his eyes. He pushed his chair back to graph something from under his desk and Lambo tensed. He didn't relax even when he saw a harmless-looking box appear from under the edge, completely black and sleek in appearance. The man placed the box on the table and slid it forward with a indiscernible gaze and Lambo wanted to tear at him to express something. Eyeing the box, Lambo soon blinked when Claudio opened it, revealing two wristbands inside. They were obsidian in colour, metallic and simple in design, and from the size of it, they were a perfect fit for his wrists. Lambo raised his head, glaring suspiciously at him (—so very suspicious, Oliver his through his mind—).

"What is it?"

Claudio tilted his head with an enigmatic smile, "It's the Bovino's latest creation, and I made it especially with you in mind."

"That doesn't answer my question." Lambo snapped, watching the way Claudio's face grew frigid in return.

"It's to monitor your process." Came the cryptic response. "Now then, do you agree to this or not?"

Lambo knew better than to agree, especially when the man avoided his previous question with a vague answer. It was insulting to be dismissed so readily in favour of what Claudio really wanted. That Claudio truly believed that in the end, Lambo didn't have a choice or even think of refusing.

From Claudio's perspective, perhaps it seemed that Lambo was easy to manipulate or control—children are easy to manipulate after all. They're learning at that age, they're adapting, and they can be conditioned. Claudio seems like the type that would readily condition his children for the sake of his own gains, and from what has been observed so far, he is that sort of person.

Lambo didn't trust it.

At all.

So with the wisdom of a 27 year-old, Lambo stood up to leave.

"No. I won't be a part of your experiments or whatever you're planning." Lambo rejected harshly with a sharp glare at Claudio. "Not if you're going to be vague about it."

Lambo turned to stomp out of here when Claudio spoke up, seizing his depart.

"And what if, as a trade-off, I let you see my dear sister again?" The man inquired, tone evocative.

Lambo whirled around with green eyes wide with shock, breath hitching and mouth opening in slack-jawed want.

"You'll let me see...Aunt Ottavia?" Lambo whispered, scared of the hope welling inside his chest.

Claudio smiled, "Yes. Only if you agree to my little pet project."

The boy bit his lips, knowing better than to fall for the other's manipulations. At the clear trap laid out for him. Lambo knew that Claudio was using his aunt against him because he loves her. It was working, Lambo thought with gritted teeth, as the offer was very tempting.

Don't do it, Oliver said. Don't do it, Lambo agreed.

He did it anyways.

"…Fine. I'll do it. Just—Just don't break your promise." Lambo said weakly, regretting his words the moment they escaped his lips. It was for the reason that when they did, Claudio's smile grew absolutely thrilled.

"As long as you don't break yours." Claudio replied.

The man leaned back in his chair, staring keenly as Lambo reached hesitantly for the metal wristbands on the table. Lambo eyed them, touching the cold and smooth surface of the thin wristband. Feeling nervous and uneasy at the sight of them. Swallowing his fears, Lambo started putting them on with shaking fingers. Repeating a desperate mantra of 'this was the right choice' to keep some form of comfort of why he was doing this and not because he was some kind of an idiot. The black wristband snapped shut with an apprehensive click, hugging snuggly around his small wrists. He gave them a suspicious look while brushing over the new accessory.

"Now what?" Lambo questioned in a fit of awkwardness and fear of the unknown, a strange tingle traveling up his arms.

Claudio only smiled.

Static shock hit him like a truck as Lambo suddenly went down onto his knees. A blinding whiteness dancing across his sights as the scream that tried to sound out—died on his lips. Instead, it left him choking as he collapsed to the floor. The feeling of a hundred pencils stabbing him at every nook and cranny as he lay there, convulsing and jerking his limbs. The muscles in his body contracting against their own will as he gave a strangled scream.

It was painful.

An unmeasurable pain that leaves him wishing for it to stop. Stop. Stop. I'll die. I'll die. I DON'T WANT TO DIE—

And just like that, it disappeared.

Leaving small little Lambo shuddering against the floor.

The Bovino Boss walked around his desk, grazing his fingers gently across the surface of his table as if posing for a photo shoot, head tilted at Lambo's pitiful form.

"You survived. I guess your proficiency in lighting is demonstrated to be true. I thought it would, as Maria and I both have it." Claudio explained with a vicious gleam. "That will happen every few days in your evening, electric shock coursing through your body and leave you writhing on the floor—just like this. In the possibility that you might die from a cardiac arrest, you'll be sent to the hospital wing in repair. I don't want you to end in failure after all."

Lambo breathed hard with horrified green eyes, "W-why?"

"Why?" The man echoed confused for a moment, a twisted smile on his face. "I mean...wouldn't it be amazing if you became a living, lightning rod?"

And that's when Lambo knew he fucked up. Badly. Body twitching as he tried to pull himself up to no avail and could only hold back the tears that threatened to escape through his tightly shut eyes. Lambo sunk back to the floor, mind in a haze.

Don't faint, Oliver had whispered. Don't faint, Lambo had agreed, seeing through blurry eyes at Claudio.

Why does he always fail to yield for what he asked for?

When Lambo woke up, he found himself on a hospital bed with the artificial lights shining over his head, causing green eyes to winch at the brightness of it al. He blinked slowly, shuffling to sit up while the blanket draped over him pooled around his lap. Wondering to himself what happened to cause him to land on a bed in the Bovino's hospital wing. It at the sight of the black wristbands that made him remember that occurred that made Lambo curse. Violently.

That bastard, Lambo seethed with burning cheeks. Clutching the blanket in his hand tightly and glaring down at the wristbands. Lambo gritted his teeth. Stupid! He was stupid to fall for that man's trap, utterly stupid! Latching his fingers onto the shock band, Lambo tugged harshly at the item, dead set on removing it by force when he drew back with a sharp cry. Green lightning crackled across his skin around his wrist, shocking him—different from the first time that made him genuinely fear that he was going to die again. Fingers tingling, Lambo eyed the new angry vine like marks trailing across his arms in pink trails that resembled lightning bolts. Behind them were older ones, looking whiter than their newer counterparts, and Lambo knew they were from earlier.

Goddammit.

With a frustrated growl, Lambo made a move to rip the band again, consequences be damned. The disgust overwhelming him as he latched onto it, preparing himself for the pain. However, Lambo failed when a hand stopped him from trying again, fingers curling around them tightly. Looking up, Lambo was about to shake the person off and tell them to let go when his words died on his lips. The person looking back at him was none other than—

"Aunt...Ottavia?" Lambo breathed in disbelief.

Aunt Ottavia looked gorgeous like always with her black wavy hair and heart-shaped face, but simultaneously, wrecked. Clothes rumpled like she had just woken up from where she sat on the chair besides him, dark bags gathering underneath her eyes. Eyes that looked at him with alarm, shining from the tears starting to collect on her eyelashes.

"Lambo." Ottavia replied wobbly, trying to hold back her tears.

There was regret lacing her tone of voice, a contrast with the relief that seemed to sigh out. A relief that quickly dwindled when Ottavia lowered her eyes in self-condemnation when Lambo failed to answer back. Lips quivering when she took in his black wristbands and new scars. A blatant mark that she had failed her job to protect her nephew. Ottavia hitched her breath, lowering her head, "I'm sorry, Lambo, this is all my fault. I should have done something, and yet, I didn't. I let—I let him take you, I let him, oh gods, I did. I let him take."

Lambo watched with shock as his aunt broke down, sobbing to herself as she gripped his hand tightly. His kind and beautiful aunt, hunching over herself like all the world's problems were thrust upon her shoulders. One hand covered her face to hide the misery and exhaustion from her face.

"Your aunt failed you. Auntie failed you, Lambo. Please forgive me, I'm sorry—"

"That's enough!" Lambo cried out, throwing his arms around his aunt that was finally here. His aunt that hadn't looked at him like a freak or an experiment when he revealed his Oliver-high intelligence. Only quirking a brow at it, smile, and then cherished him instead. Aunt Ottavia that took care of him, knew what he was like, and treated him like her own son. Not like Nina who only started to see him as something other than just her young master. Not Claudio who saw him as his experiment to further his interest. Just Aunt Ottavia. Kind and beautiful Ottavia.

Losing her six months ago had been a nightmare.

"It's not your fault!" He said next, burying his face against her shoulder in a desperate hold. It's by no means her fault that he let himself be tricked this way. It was nobody's fault for what's happened so far. It's not Nina's. And it's definitely not hers. Lambo was sick and tired of everyone apologizing to him. Tired of seeing Nina helpless. Tired of seeing Claudio's scheming eyes. Tired of seeing his aunt blaming herself. Tired of being seen as vulnerable.

He was Oliver before he was ever Lambo. An adult that made his own decisions since the time he turned 18 years-old and moved out to pursue his dreams. An adult that died saving someone else because he chose to step in front of someone. He might be three years-old now, different from his first life, and under a different name, it does not disregard the fact that he chose this too. Even if it was a stupid decision, even if it ended with him being hurt, and even if it ended with him being experimented—it brought his aunt back, and that was what he decided. Even if it sounds twisted, Lambo wanted this, wanted her next to him.

Ottavia wept into his crown of black hair at his words, muttering series of 'I'm sorry' and 'My precious boy' as if asking for his forgiveness over and over again. Even when he already did, nothing seemed to calm his distraught aunt. Lambo could only hug her back in comfort, and Oliver could only remain strong for her, both of them reassuring her that it would all be alright.

After all, Lambo only needed to wait a little longer.

A little longer before he sees eyes that reflected the sunset. Of a young teen destined for something more than what was dished out at him.

Just a little longer.

A/N: Poor Lambo. I can't believe I'm doing this to him TAT

On the other hand, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and see you guys later for the next one! I'll remind again that the updating might be delayed due to my focus being shifted to my education, so I hope that's quite alright with you guys!

Teaser:

"I have a hit for you."