The lazy genius has 5 mates

chapter 42

Roxanne decided that she did in fact, owe her mates an explanation. She could die at a moment's notice after all and she also thinks it's high time she takes the leap of faith with the people who are destined for her. 

So she decided to take them back to the hidden safe house. 

Roxanne didn't say a word the entire way back to the hidden house.

Her mates followed silently, eyes flicking between the smear of ash on her sleeve, the tension in her shoulders, the tiny tremor in her fingers she thought she hid well.

When the vault elevator sealed behind them, Holwen finally reached out.

"Roxy," he said softly. "Look at me."

She didn't. Not yet.

Instead, she walked straight to the recessed panel on the far wall — placing her palm flat against the cool steel until a soft hum vibrated beneath her skin.
The dome lights dimmed to a low starlight blue.

"Sit," she murmured.

Her mates obeyed instantly, taking their places on the lower level of the lounge's circular seating.

She stayed standing.

Zolekh exchanged a glance with Rolkan. Abel straightened his spine, waiting. Helixiar chewed her lower lip. Holwen watched her with careful, steady warmth.

Roxanne took a slow breath — then another.

"The symbol," she finally said.

They tensed.

Roxanne turned toward the reflective dome-wall. A flick of her wrist; the surface shimmered and shifted.

The old emblem appeared:

A black serpent biting its own tail,
encircling a thirteen-pointed star.

Their eyes widened.

Holwen sat up straighter. "That was on the intruder's mask."

"Yes," Roxanne said. Her voice was frighteningly calm.

"Then why have we never seen it before?" Abel asked.

"Because no one has," she replied, "for four generations."

Zolekh frowned. Rolkan leaned forward.

Helixiar whispered, "That symbol is yours?"

Roxanne nodded once.

"It was. Not anymore."

The room felt suddenly too small, too silent.

She continued.

"The Black family wasn't always a corporation." 

"My great-great-grandfather wasn't a businessman. He was... something else."

Holwen's eyes sharpened. "A syndicate?"

Roxanne gave a humorless laugh. "Not exactly. More like... a shadow network of inventors, strategists, and scientists who supplied other factions. They built weapons, intelligence systems, infiltration tech. They worked in the dark. They had no loyalties except to the Black bloodline. That symbol"—she pointed at the serpentine crest—"was their signature."

Rolkan swallowed. "That sounds—"

"Illegal?" she said dryly. "Extremely."

Zolekh let out a low whistle.

"But why hide it?" Abel asked quietly.

Roxanne's eyes darkened.

"Because it wasn't supposed to survive" 

She turned her wrist; another hologram bloomed behind her — this time, a newspaper clipping, yellowed and frayed. UNKNOWN LAB FIRE CLAIMS TWO — CHILD SURVIVORS FOUND.

"My great-grandfather shut it all down. Burned every lab. Dismantled every link. He wanted the Black family to go legitimate. He created the company we have now. The symbol changed to this—"

She switched the projection.

The modern Black crest appeared:
A clean, minimal eight-sided star held within a ring.

"New era. New rules."

Holwen tilted his head. "But the old symbol resurfacing means—"

"That someone wants to resurrect it," Roxanne said coldly. "Or wants people to believe it was never gone."

Rolkan leaned back, muttering, "That's not just a threat. That's a declaration."

Abel nodded slowly. "They're announcing themselves."

Helixiar's brows furrowed. "But why now? Why attack the auction? Why go after you?"

Roxanne's face hardened.

"Because I'm the current Black prodigy. The only one who can replicate what our ancestors built. The only one who knows how to refine the spider key's architecture. And the only one who can open the hidden house without triggering lethal protocols."

Her mates went still.

Zolekh exhaled. "So you're their prize."

"Or their rival," Abel murmured.

"Or both," Rolkan added.

Helixiar whispered, "Roxy... is it someone from your family?"

Roxanne's expression chilled instantly.

"No."

Holwen observed her carefully. "How do you know?"

"Because the only people I trust with my life are my father, my grandfather, and my brothers."
Her jaw clenched.
"And they were all with me."

The implication hung heavy.

Someone outside the inner circle had a way to access forbidden history.

Holwen's voice turned protective, low. "You should've told us sooner."

Roxanne finally looked up — eyes tired, sharp, haunted by calculations.

"I didn't want to involve you in a war that isn't yours."

Zolekh stood, gently gripping her shoulders. "We're your mates. Your wars are ours."

Rolkan rose too. "And we're not going anywhere."

Abel nodded with quiet conviction. "You don't have to hide this from us."

Helixiar wrapped her arms around Roxanne from behind. "We stand with you."

Holwen took her hand, grounding her. "Always."

Her throat tightened.

She didn't hug often.
Didn't need to.

But this time—she let them.

Just for a moment, she leaned into the circle of arms around her.

Only when she stepped back did she speak again.

Her voice returned to its usual calm steel.

"I don't know who has access to the old symbol.
I don't know how
But I will find out."

She raised her chin slightly.

"And when I do..."

The lights in the dome flickered with her rising adrenaline.

"...I will end them."

Her mates exchanged glances.

Zolekh whispered, almost reverently:

"And here we thought we were the dangerous ones."