Chapter 41

“She thought I was the end of her,
she never realized she was the reason I began.“

Nathan’s POV

My head tilted, studying the ropes with open amusement.

They tied my wrists to the arms of a metal chair like I’m some kind of rabid animal, so cute.

I flexed my fingers once, twice, and calculated.

The fiber tension, the knot type, the angle of the pull, the chair’s weight, the distance to the door, and the guard’s reaction time.

Hmm. One minute.

I rolled my shoulders, testing the slack with a lazy pull.

No, one minute was too much. It would take me thirty seconds to break free and get out. Maximum. Twenty-five even, if I get triggered.

I exhaled slowly through my nose.

God, this is underwhelming.

I miss the days when Emma caught me. God, at least she knew what she was doing. The woman was half my size but twice as competent. If she didn’t actively fantasize about my funeral, I’d have started the I Admire Emma fan club a long time ago.

Membership and president: me.

Unfortunately, she prefers the Nathan must die agenda.

I huffed out loud because, honestly, if you’re going to kidnap me, at least make it interesting. I am bored.

I lifted my head and looked at the guard by the door. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties, maybe. Hard to tell, his receding hairline made him look older. Thank god for my awesome superior genes, at least I know I am keeping my hair till I die.

The semi-bald man was trying very hard to look intimidating, his jaw set, shoulders squared, his hand hovering a little too close to his gun.

Aw. He’s nervous.

I tilted my head.

“Blink twice if you’re questioning your career choices at the moment,” I said casually.

He didn’t blink.

Shame.

I sighed out loud, “When does your boss plan on making his grand entrance?” I asked casually. “I dressed up specifically for this occasion.”

When he didn’t answer, I leaned back in the chair as much as the ropes allowed, letting the fibers bite slightly into my skin. I twisted my wrists just enough to feel the knot shift.

“If he’s planning to interrogate me,” I continued conversationally, “tell him to bring something sharp. I get bored easily, and I’d hate to break free before he gets here. That would just be embarrassing for everyone.”

The guard’s nostrils flared, but he stayed silent.

Just then, footsteps echoed outside the door. I instantly perked up and straightened in my seat. Yay, finally.

The door clicked open, and dear old Charles walked into the room. The guard muttered something under his breath before stepping aside, and that’s when the old man’s washed-out green eyes landed on me, his expression twisting into fury and irritation in the span of a heartbeat. God, I truly love the reactions I trigger in people.

I thrive in that look.

He stepped forward, every movement controlled, authoritative even, like he thought he owned the air in every room. I smiled, ever so politely, “Hey, grandpa,” I said, “Can I call you grandpa? Considering we are gonna be in-laws very soon.”

His jaw ticked, and a vein pulsed at his temple.

“Over my dead body will that happen,” he grated out.

My lips curved into a mock frown. “Oh no,” I said softly, genuine concern dripping from my tone. “You’re dying? That’s tragic. Who’s going to walk Aylin down the aisle?” I asked, ever so serious, “Her father seems to be MIA, so I was counting on you, actually.”

His fingers curled over my jaw, pushing my head back, “Care to explain what the fuck you were doing on my property?” he demanded.

Yay, finally some action.

“I was sneaking out of Aylin’s room,” I admitted easily, giving him a lazy wink. “You know, I never really got to experience those dramatic high school relationships where you climb balconies and risk your life to make out behind your girlfriend’s parents’ back.”

I paused thoughtfully.

“It’s actually kind of cool, the whole forbidden Romeo and Juliet thing, I am lovin’ it.”

His fingers tightened around my jaw, his nails digging into my skin hard enough to draw blood if he pressed a little more. His nostrils flared, every word I said nudging him closer to the edge. “I thought I made myself fucking clear,” he grated through clenched teeth. “Aylin is off limits. You are not allowed near her. She doesn’t want you—”

“Oh, she wants me, believe me, she really wants me,” I interrupted, “She is just scared of hurting you, my princess is sweet like that, a tragic flaw, really,” I sighed dramatically, “So, here are your options, you can bless this union and save yourself a heart attack…or you can fight me on it.”

I tilted my head, my eyes gleaming.

“And FYI, I usually win my fights, so, what’s it gonna be, dear old grandpa?”

His grip tightened around my chin, and without warning, he shoved my head back hard enough that it collided with the metal chair. The impact stung, metal ringing faintly behind my skull.

I let out a theatrical breath. “Ouch,” I muttered. “So I’m guessing that’s option number two.”

He pressed his palms down on the arms of the chair and leaned closer, invading my personal space in the way I hated, “Look, I know you are fucked up in the head, I can clearly see it in your unhinged eyes.” His gaze locked onto mine, searching.

For a second, it almost felt like he recognized something there.

“But here is the thing, kid, I am not that normal either, you have no idea the lengths I would go to protect Aylin.”

Huh, interesting.

“So if you think you’ll be sneaking into her room again, believe me…next time you won’t find her.”

My brows pulled together. “What does that mean?”

He leaned even closer, “It means I will take her somewhere you can’t reach. Somewhere far enough that even you won’t be able to claw your way back to her, believe me, I could do that and more.”

My jaw tightened. I was getting slightly annoyed at the notion that he wanted to take my princess away from me. “So you are willing to break her heart?”

“I’ll do anything for her, but her safety is much more important to me, and you…” His gaze flickered over my face with open disgust. “…you are everything that is unsafe. If I have to break her heart to keep her alive and protected,” he finished coldly, “then so be it.”

Something in that moment, in his words, pressed against my instincts. That tiny, almost imperceptible shift in his eyes. The way that familiar darkness flickered there, it proved to me that his words weren’t hypothetical…dear old Charles has blood on his hands. I’m almost certain of it now.

You see, I only shelved my little investigation into the truth behind the pool incident and the creep behind those threatening notes because I needed to focus on Aylin’s health, on finding a cure, and on getting her better…that was my utmost priority at the moment. 

Also, she told me, more than once, that she didn’t want to know about that past, and thanks to the character development she so rudely forced on me, I archived that quest for another time.

But the way he spoke just now? It scratched that itch again.

So I tilted my head slightly and tested the waters, “What did you do to…Riley?”

I closely watched his body language, checking if my words hit home, and my god, they did. He pushed himself back from the chair, from me, so fast, like he’d been electrocuted, like I’d pressed a live wire against his spine.

The shock waves that crashed in his eyes gave me an answer; recognition flickered there, a memory, something like guilt…finally, a fucking clue, so naturally, I pushed further.

“So, I have a theory, Riley hurt Aylin, and since you would uh…go to every length to protect Aylin,” I echoed his previous words, “You hurt Riley back, now tell me, am I getting close? I feel like I am.”

Well, if it’s true, I might have more in common with this man than I anticipated.

Charles’s jaw locked. He tried to compose himself. I watched it happen in real time, the shutters coming down, the ghosts being shoved back into their graves, the mask sliding into place.

Too late, old man.

I already saw the crack. Man, I should’ve gotten myself caught a while ago. This is the closest I’ve gotten to the truth.

“Now, the main question remains, who the fuck is Riley?” I frowned thoughtfully. “Still not sure if it’s a he or a she, unisex names are so inconvenient, but I’d very much like to meet the fucker who hurt my princess, also,” My eyes narrowed at him, “Did you kill this Riley, or just hurt him—slash—her?”

“Because if you didn’t finish the job, I’d hate to leave loose ends.”

His hand on the side clenched into a fist, his fingers slightly trembling, “How do you know that name?”

My brows drew together, but I didn’t answer him. Let him simmer.

“That’s not the issue here. What I don’t understand, though…it was your wife’s middle name, so is Riley another kid of yours or something? A secret sibling? An illegitimate heir?”

His jaw locked so tight I thought he’d break a tooth. His fist clenching and unclenching on the side, over and over again, as if to hold himself back from pummeling me to the ground.

“I was planning to let you go after a little roughing up, but now…you are really pushing me to end your life once and for all.” He grated out, venom thick in every syllable as he stepped closer, “It would save me the fucking trouble, wouldn’t it? Aylin would shed a few tears…but well, she’d get over you and forget you in the end.”

I frowned, “You’re so mean,” I mumbled, “What have I ever done to you to deserve that?”

He lunged forward and grabbed my collar, yanking me toward him. The ropes bit deep into my wrists as the chair screeched against the floor.

“You kidnapped my daughter, you son of a bitch,” he snarled. “You hurt her. You hurt my business, and you won’t just leave my granddaughter alone.” His grip tightened. “You dig where you have no business digging…you just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“Yeah, well, you started this…also, if you don’t want me to get murdery, don’t call my mother a bitch again,” I said, my jaw ticking. “If you’d been helpful and told me the truth, and if you’d just stop sending men after me, maybe—just maybe—I wouldn’t have reacted so aggressively.”

I shot him a glare, “Oh, by the way,” I added bitterly, “those last two men you sent? They kind of hurt my sister. Not very cool, old man.”

His brows pulled together, not in anger this time…but in confusion.

“I didn’t send anyone after you,” He said, “It was just that first time, I wanted them to teach you a lesson and scare you off.” His eyes flicked over me with irritation, and he scoffed, “But we both know that didn’t work.”

“Come on, Charles,” I said. “It’s just you and me, no audience. You don’t have to lie.”

I leaned forward as much as the ropes allowed. “Though I must warn you, if you try to hurt my sister again, well, you won’t just face me, you will face her husband’s wrath, and believe me, he is a scary dude, he’d kill you without blinking an eye,” I added, “Me, on the other hand, I have to keep you alive because Aylin gives a crap about you and all.”

His confusion grew deeper, almost like he didn’t understand.

“I said I didn’t send anyone after you or your…sister,” He shot out in frustration, “I promised Aylin that I wouldn’t hurt you, not unless you do something first.” His eyebrow raised, “And will you look at that? You did something first by trespassing on my property.”

Could he be telling the truth?

If those men weren’t his…then who the hell sent them?

I tried not to ponder that thought for too long. I’ll have time for it later. Now, though, for my plan to work, I needed the old man to hurt me, so I must trigger him some more.

“So,” I looked around the room, “Where is Layla? I bet she’d be delighted to see me tied up to a chair right about now. Though, to be fair, when she was my guest, I was a great host, I fed her, gave her water, and kept the room warm.”

I smiled faintly. “So you should really return the favor. Hospitality matters, Charles. I’m not that picky, so anything edible will do.”

His jaw tightened, and his grip on my collar loosened slightly as he edged backward from me, like even standing this close was testing his restraint.

“You think kidnapping her was a game?” he grated out, “You think I didn’t consider putting a bullet in your skull for that?”

My eyebrow raised, “Why didn’t you?”

“Only for Aylin’s sake,” He responded, “If it wasn’t for her, you would’ve been buried ten feet under now, and believe me, I am still weighing that option in my head. I am sure the only way to get rid of a parasite like you is to kill you.”

I sighed, “Even that wouldn’t work, believe me, I am restless like that, I’d hunt the crap out of you. I would make a very unhinged ghost, you don’t want that.”

“Anyway,” I added, shifting gears, “kidnapping Layla was my last resort to get information. You two weren’t exactly forthcoming, and thanks to her sweet cooperation, we finally figured out what my princess’s medical condition is…did you know that?” I asked ever so innocently.

His eyebrows pulled closer, slightly taken aback, proving my theory right.

I smiled, “Oh, will you look at that, Aylin didn’t tell you?” I asked, and his silence was answer enough.

“Guess she doesn’t trust you enough, or no, wait…it’s something else, I mean,” I added thoughtfully, “you were the one who stopped her from getting diagnosed and treated when she was young, am I right?”

His jaw hardened as he tried to understand my words.

“That fact makes me hate you even more because if her condition had been discovered earlier, per the doctor’s words, it could’ve been managed, monitored, and most probably treated.”

The humor drained from my face and voice as the possible what-ifs consumed my sanity, “Maybe she wouldn’t be in danger the way she is now, were you aware of that? Since you love preaching about her safety day and night?”

The air thickened between us.

“If anything happens to her,” I said quietly, staring straight into his eyes, “know that it would be your fault, only yours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He grated out, his chest heaving, up and down. The hand that had been steady on the chair’s arm trembled before he tightened it into a fist. The whites of his eyes sharpened, thin threads of red surfacing as he stared at me.

“The doctor figured it out, there is a mass in her brain, one that grew much more than it should’ve since she was young, it is pressing on all the wrong places, and could erupt at any moment,” I explained.

“So, dear old Charles,” I went on, “I’d like to break something to you…your wife? She wasn’t crazy like everyone said. She had the exact same condition.”

A flicker of what looked like horror crossed his face.

“She could’ve been treated, such a shame. Maybe she wouldn’t have killed herself—”

I barely got the words out before his fist collided with my face with a crack that echoed against the concrete walls. My head snapped to the side, the chair skidding across the floor as the ropes tore deeper into my skin. For a second, the world rang around me, white noise exploding behind my eyes.

Metal flooded my mouth, warmth bloomed across my cheek, then down to my lip. I turned my head back toward him slowly, until our eyes met again.

“Shut the fuck up,” He stood over me, breathing hard, eyes no longer controlled, the mere mention of that woman snapped the logic from his eyes, and something feral took its place.

Good, so very good.

Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, sliding down my chin as I smiled.

“Now,” I murmured hoarsely, spitting a little blood onto the floor, “we’re finally getting started.”

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

Aylin’s POV

Nathan hadn’t texted me back yet. The damned asshole.

I glared at my screen, at the humiliating parade of unanswered messages, mentally scolding myself for spiraling like this. This psychotic boy had the audacity to fuck me against the sink, pressure me into going downstairs with him, and retreat the second I ended up crying.

Then, when the coast was finally clear? He ignored me.

Worse, he infiltrated my dreams too. Wasn’t it enough that he had already taken my waking thoughts hostage? Did he really need to colonize my subconscious as well?

I locked my phone and tossed it onto the bed before flopping down on the edge. The mattress bounced beneath me, and I huffed loudly into the quiet room.

The nerve of this man…

The thought had barely finished forming when my phone started ringing.

The sound cut sharply through the silence, making me jolt upright. My gaze snapped toward the screen far too quickly, my heart leaping in reflex, thinking it was him, only to see the name of the last person I thought would call me.

My eyebrows pulled closer as I picked up the phone, reading Christian’s name once and twice. We had exchanged numbers when he stayed over during Christmas, but never did I think he’d…call me.

A thin thread of unease slid down my spine.

I answered, pressing the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Aylin, hey, I’m sorry to disturb you, but—”

“No, no,” I cut in quickly, already sitting up straighter. “You’re not disturbing me, uh, is everything okay?”

A hollow space opened in my chest before he even answered, sensing that something was…wrong.

“I’m not sure,” he said, exhaling low. “Have you seen Nathan today?”

I shot up from the bed so quickly that the room tilted.

“No,” I said instantly. “I haven’t. Why? What happened? Is he okay?”

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Christian replied, and there was something in his voice that made my stomach drop. “I think…something happened to him.”

The words didn’t register at first; they just floated there.

I pressed my hand to my chest, like I could physically hold my heart in place. It was beating too hard, all of a sudden, too fast, like it was trying to escape.

“Something like…what?” My voice came out thinner than I intended. “What do you mean?”

“Adam called me,” he continued. “He was talking to Nathan this morning when…something went wrong. He didn’t understand it fully, but he believed that someone was after him, and he hadn’t been able to reach him ever since, or even locate him, I…” Christian added, his words stumbling now, “I am not sure, fuck, I thought he would’ve been with you or something, I should get there as soon as…”

My knees felt weak all of a sudden.

The anger I’d been holding onto minutes ago evaporated so fast it made me dizzy.

My fingers tightened around the phone, “But who…who would be after him?” The question barely left my mouth as the message I received the other day before resurfaced in my mind, pulsing and pushing, darkening my thoughts.

No, no…there is no way.

“Aylin, don’t worry, maybe it’s nothing,” Christian said quickly, hearing the fracture in my voice. “Adam’s on it. I’m on my way, too, but just if you hear from him, tell me immediately, okay?”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. My throat felt painfully tight, dry like I’d swallowed dust. “Okay…you too, please.”

“I will,” he said, bidding me goodbye before the line went dead.

With blurred vision, I unlocked my phone and opened the thread I’d tried so hard to ignore.

My fingers hovered for half a second before I typed.

Me:
What the hell did you do?

The reply came almost instantly.

Unknown number:
Oh, hey!
I do lots of things. Can you please specify?

My fingers shook as I typed, the fear dissolving into anger, fueling the fire in my chest.

Me:
If you hurt him, I’ll kill you, believe me, I will find you and rip you apart.

Unknown number:
Now, that’s the Aylin I know.
Good to have you back 🙂
Well, I am in a good mood today,
so here, lemme help ya out…

My heart skipped violently.

Me:
What?

Unknown number:
Information is expensive.
What will you give me in return?

Me:
What sadistic game are you playing? What do you gain from all of this?

Unknown number:
Watching you squirm gives me so much pleasure…but you know what? I’d rather watch you sink.

Unknown number:
You squirming beneath the water, now that’s my long unsatiated dream.
Maybe we should revisit that memory together sometime soon, don’t you think so?

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard it hurt. My vision blurred at the edges, black creeping in, proving how this creep was related to my past somehow. My legs buckled, and I collapsed against the bed’s edge.

Air. I needed air.

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to breathe.

In.

Out.

In. Out.

When I finally managed to steady my hands, I typed again.

Me:
Who are you?

The typing dots appeared, disappeared, and appeared again.

Unknown number:
Just remember me. Why can’t you?

Unknown number:
Anyway…if you want to find your lover boy, why not ask your granddaddy? Did you forget he’d do anything to protect sweet, crazy-in-the-head Aylin?

My eyebrows pulled closer as I read the message again, and again.

The words began rearranging themselves in my mind, forming a shape I didn’t want to see.

My mind went back to this morning, to the way I was jolted awake by the sound of the loud alarm blaring outside. I remembered running downstairs, still half-awake, only to find Grandpa near the entrance, speaking harshly to one of the guards.

When I asked him, he dismissed it, saying that a stray dog crossed the property. I hadn’t questioned him, but now that I replayed it…he had looked agitated, and Christian said Adam lost contact with Nathan this morning.

My stomach dropped.

No.

No, it can’t be.

I shoved the phone into my pocket, ignoring the creep and his twisted words, ignoring the way they were clawing at my ribs, and focused on Nathan only. I stormed out of my room and headed straight to Grandpa’s study. I didn’t find him there, so I went to his room, but it was empty as well.

I turned around and went down the stairs slowly, my gaze flickering from corner to corner, searching.

“If I go back there, I will kill him on the spot.” Grandpa’s harsh words made me halt mid-step, my eyes widening.

I spotted him just beneath the stairs, his back partially turned to me, and across from him stood one of the guards.

“Keep him sedated for now,” Grandpa added with a tired sigh, “Until I figure out what to do with him.”

My vision tunneled.

Oh my god, he’s talking about Nathan. He has to be.

I lowered myself behind the railing, crouching just enough not to be seen, silencing my shaky breath.

“Should we move him now?” the guard asked.

“No, get it arranged late at night, I don’t want anyone to notice,” Grandpa said, “Tell the others to be extra careful,” he added, glancing at his phone before placing it to his ear and walking away, dismissing the man.

I stayed frozen for two full seconds after he disappeared, afraid even the sound of my heartbeat might give me away.

The guard turned and headed toward the back entrance.

I was on my feet before the thought could fully form. I climbed halfway back up the stairs to reach the hallway window overlooking the rear grounds.

From there, I watched him.

The guard exited the house and crossed the courtyard. He passed the fountain, moved beyond the trimmed hedges, and headed toward the stone structure built into the slope behind the mansion…the wine cellar?

My breath hitched. Oh god, he’s keeping Nathan there…isn’t he?

I watched as the guard unlocked the lower entrance and stepped inside, before the heavy door shut behind him. I quickly moved to the other window at the end of the hall, just in time to see Grandpa’s car pull away from the premises.

This was my only chance.

I didn’t think it through. I just moved so quickly, down the stairs, across the marble floor, and through the back hallway. My steps were quiet, careful, but my pulse was thundering in my ears.

The early evening air hit my face as I slipped outside, the cold biting instantly. Snow from earlier clung to the edges of the grounds, dusting the grass in a layer of white.

I followed the same path the guard had taken and paused at the edge of the cellar door. The thick wood, reinforced with iron bands, was left slightly ajar, a thin strip of light spilling faintly from inside.

My hands were literally shaking. The thought of Nathan down there, hurt, because of me, made my head spin, panic clawing at thoughts that were already too fragile.

I couldn’t just walk in like this. There was that guard downstairs, maybe even more.

Think.

Think, Aylin. Think…

I knew this place. There had to be a way. I knew that the cellar had two sections…the public tasting room upstairs, and the lower reserve vault, one that was temperature-controlled, monitored, and severely protected.

Well, wine this expensive needed constant climate control.

The realization clicked into place far too quickly. The control panel, it wasn’t inside. It was in the small maintenance shed attached to the side.

I drew in a slow breath and slipped along the stone wall, keeping low. The cold brick scraped lightly against my palm as I reached the narrow service door. I glanced around and behind me, like some ridiculous thief in my own home.

When I found no one close, I eased the door open and stepped inside. The hum of machinery filled the tight space. A metal cabinet sat against the wall with a small indicator lights glowing.

My fingers hesitated only a second before I opened it and flipped the main breaker.

The hum died instantly, and within seconds, a warning tone began beeping, getting louder with every second.

I stepped back into the shadows, hiding just in time as the cellar door opened again. The guard stepped out quickly, swearing under his breath.

He hurried toward the maintenance shed without looking back.

The moment he disappeared inside, I moved. I slipped through the cellar door and down the narrow stone steps, forcing myself not to run too loudly. Even so, my footsteps echoed against the walls as I headed for the metal door at the end of the corridor.

I stopped a few feet away, my chest rising and falling too fast.

A keypad blinked beside it, but the guard had been in a hurry earlier, and the latch hadn’t fully caught.

I reached for the handle, my hand trembling. Come on, please…

I pressed down, and thank god, it gave way.

Relief flooded through me so suddenly that my knees weakened. The door creaked open slowly, the sound far too loud in the silence, and I stepped inside.

The room was dimly lit by a single overhead bulb, and tied to a metal chair in the corner of the room was…Nathan.

For a second, my mind simply refused to accept what my eyes were seeing. The image didn’t make sense. It felt wrong.

His head was lolled to the side, his chin dipped toward his shoulder. Purple bruising bloomed along his jaw, the corner of his lip split and dried with blood. There was more near his temple, smeared at his collar, soaking into his shirt, and staining it a deeper shade.

His wrists were bound tightly to the arms of the chair, rope digging into his red sensetive skin.

He wasn’t moving, not even a twitch.

“Nathan,” I breathed, my voice breaking on his name.

I rushed forward so quickly that I nearly slipped on the stone floor. I dropped to my knees in front of him, my hands trembling as I reached for his face.

His skin was cold, far too cold.

I cupped his jaw gently, turning his face toward me.

“You idiot,” I whispered shakily. “You absolute idiot.”

My fingers fumbled at the ropes, trying to loosen them as quickly as I could manage, my nails scraping against coarse fibers.

His head shifted slightly due to my touch, and his eyelids fluttered open halfway, so unfocused and heavy.

“Aylin?” he breathed, his voice rough, barely there.

A soft hum escaped him like even forming my name cost him effort. His fingers twitched weakly beneath my hands as I finally freed one wrist.

I rose slightly, cupping his face carefully, afraid I might hurt him if I moved too fast.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” I murmured, brushing my thumb gently over the bruise blooming across his cheek.

His eyelids lifted again, hazy eyes struggling to focus until they found mine, and then his lips tilted into a faint, crooked smile.

“Hey, princess,” he mumbled, his voice thin but unmistakably him. “I was going to text you back, but, well…” His gaze dropped lazily toward the ropes, like this was mildly inconvenient at best. “I got…rather occupied.”

Tears burned at the back of my eyes. “Are you okay?” I asked, even though the question sounded ridiculous the second it left my mouth.

“Now, I am,” He mumbled, but his breathing was shallow, and his energy was nearly gone.

“God, what happened?” I whispered, still in denial, “How did—I don’t understand…”

My mind refused to fully accept it, that Grandpa could do this, that he could be so cruel when he’d been nothing but gentle toward me my whole life.

“Well, I’m no expert in social cues…but I’m starting to suspect your grandpa doesn’t really like me.” His lips twitched faintly. “Call it intuition.”

I stared at him, still trying to process it all.

He blinked lazily.

“Let’s get you out of here,” I mumbled hoarsely, trying to untie his other wrist before the guard returned. My brain felt overloaded, about to implode as thoughts crashed into each other so violently.

Nathan’s free hand lifted slightly, unsteady, and his fingers brushed my cheek like he wasn’t entirely sure it was real.

“A part of me didn’t think you’d come for me,” He whispered lowly, tightening my brows at the meaning behind his words. He grimaced like he regretted saying it. “Fuck, I feel like I’m drunk. I shouldn’t talk…shush.” He actually shushed himself.

“What did they put in you?” I asked, finally loosening the last knot around his wrist.

He hummed thoughtfully.

“No idea,” he said. “But I kind of feel high.”

A slow grin spread across his bruised face, “This is very romantic, by the way, you storming in to save me? Ten out of ten, would absolutely get myself kidnapped again,” He moved his fingers to my nose, and he pinched it, “You’re so pretty.”

God, he did sound high, or drunk. Whatever drug they gave him clearly stripped away whatever filter he pretended to have.

His eyelids drooped, and his face tightened into a faint wince. “This feels weird,” he muttered. He blinked slowly, forcing his eyes open again. “I’m not dying, am I?”

“You’re not dying, don’t be silly.”

“Cool,” he breathed out in relief. “Because I still need to marry you and deeply annoy your grandfather.”

I cupped his face gently, forcing him to focus on me. “Nathan. I need you to gather yourself together so I can get you out of here.”

He kept smiling, so soft, hazy, infuriatingly adorable as he asked, “Will you marry me?”

Dear god…

I couldn’t reply or attempt to forcefully pull him out of the chair when a very harsh command echoed from behind me. “Move away from him.”

My shoulders snapped rigid as I turned around, my eyes falling on the same guard, standing by the entrance, his fingers tight around his gun, but the barrel was angled toward the ground. “Ma’am, I won’t hurt you, but I need you to step away from him, right this moment.”

I shook my head before he even finished speaking.

Instead of backing away, I stepped in front of Nathan, trying to shield him. “No,” I said, “I’m getting him out of here, and you’re not stopping me.”

The guard’s jaw tightened. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but he would absolutely hurt Nathan.

So I didn’t move, I didn’t flinch when he strode forward toward me. I was already calculating how to punch my way out of this. I was ready to scratch his face off if I had to, knee him in the crotch, anything that would work.

His fingers closed around my wrist, attempting to pull me aside.

I barely had a second to react when he was suddenly pushed away from me, his grip on my wrist was torn off, and Nathan was on his feet. He moved like something feral had taken over, sedation forgotten in the span of a heartbeat.

His hand fisted into the guard’s hair, yanking him forward before slamming his head violently against the stone wall.

The crack echoed.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Nathan grated out. His voice was still slightly unsteady, but the haze was gone, replaced with something much more dangerous.

The guard groaned, blood streaking down the stone, but before he could even recover, Nathan’s other hand locked onto the man’s wrist, the one holding the gun, and he twisted it hard, enough for the weapon to slip free into his grip.

He didn’t hesitate as he aimed low and pulled the trigger fast.

The shot exploded in the enclosed space, almost deafening. I flinched, stumbling back as the bullet tore through the guard’s thigh. A loud groan ripped from him as he collapsed to the floor, clutching his injured leg.

Nathan released him, but just as quickly, the adrenaline faded. His palm slammed against the wall to steady himself. A low, pained groan rumbled from him as his shoulders dipped slightly, his eyelids lowering again as the drug reclaimed its hold.

“Nathan,” I breathed as I rushed to him, sliding under his arm and pulling it over my shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” I muttered urgently, tightening my grip around his waist. He leaned into me, his breath slightly uneven, but even in this state, he pressed a soft kiss to my head, burying his nose in my hair.

“Nathan, focus,” I grumbled as we moved up the stairs, one step at a time.

“Hmm, I am focused,” He muttered, “On you.”

He wasn’t leaning into me for balance; he was doing it only to get so close, “Now, back to my question before that asshole interrupted us, will you—”

I slammed my hand over his mouth, shushing him, “Stop throwing that question around like it’s so normal.”

He frowned, “Why not?” He mumbled, his eyes blinking up at me like I’d just deeply wounded him, “You won’t marry me?”

“This is not the ideal time to discuss this, can’t you see?” I grumbled, pushing the cellar door open as we stepped outside into the freezing air.

Nathan pulled me even closer to him, “So, that’s not a no, right?” he pressed, voice still hazy but annoyingly persistent.

I sighed loudly and kept moving, half-dragging him toward my car, hoping we’d get away before anyone noticed us, but when did I ever get what I wanted?

The second we reached my car, the two guards near the entrance spotted us and rushed forward.

One of them blocked my path, flashing me a hard look. “Miss, what are you doing? You need to let him go.”

“No,” I shot back immediately, pulling my keys out and unlocking the car. “I won’t.”

I lifted my chin, holding the guard’s gaze, my voice daring, “If you want him, you’ll have to get through me first. So go on, give it your best.”

My eyebrow arched when he didn’t budge, his eyes flickering to his buddy, weighing his choices, “I’m waiting.” I added in a bored tone.

Nathan leaned slightly into me.

“Whoa,” he muttered dreamily. “That’s so hot.”

I elbowed him lightly.

“Let him go,” the other guard insisted. “We promise we won’t hurt him. We’ll wait until your grandfather—”

“When Grandpa gets back,” I cut in sharply, anger finally burning clean through me, “you can tell him I helped get Nathan out, and I might not be back anytime soon.”

I opened the passenger seat and helped Nathan in. The guards hesitated as I rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat.

They wouldn’t dare touch me.

I started the engine, and pulled out of the driveway. They stepped directly in front of the car, shaking their heads, convinced they could block me.

I stared at them for one long second, then I shrugged lightly.

“Okay, as you wish.”

I said as I pressed my foot down, the engine roared loudly, and the car lunged forward.

Their eyes widened in shock, and they scattered at the last possible second, jumping out of the way as I sped past them and out of the gate, away from the mansion.

Only when we were a safe distance down the road did I finally breathe. I turned my head to check on Nathan, who was uncharacteristically silent.

The side of his head was pressed against his seat, his eyes only on me, and when our gazes met, he smiled, “Does this mean you’re choosing me?”

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

I still refused to choose, but god be my witness, I would not let them hurt one another, not on my watch.

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

Nathan’s POV

The world was still slightly tilted, but no longer spinning.

Whatever they injected into me was fading. My limbs still felt heavier than usual, but the fog in my head was thinning, piece by piece, thought by thought.

Control was returning, and control was my favorite thing.

I kept my head resting against the seat longer than necessary, letting her think I was still more out of it than I actually was.

Strategic weakness is still a strategy.

The streetlights passed over her face in intervals of gold and shadow as she drove, her jaw slightly clenched, angry, worried, her hands firm on the steering wheel, her beautiful eyes flickering toward me every few seconds like she needed to confirm I was still breathing.

She really came for me and got me out. My sweet, conflicted, stubborn princess. In a way, she did choose me today. For once, she didn’t stand aside and allow her dear old man to cause me harm.

She won’t say it like that, of course. She’ll pretend it was temporary protection or a circumstantial loyalty.

But she chose me, and god, I love winning.

My vision sharpened a little more. The throbbing in my jaw returned properly now that the drugs weren’t cushioning it. My lip stung and my temple pulsed.

It hurt, but somehow, the pain felt negligible when she was around.

We stopped at a red light, and she immediately turned toward me, her gaze scanning every inch of my face like she could undo every damage.

She exhaled slowly and leaned closer. Her sleeve slid down slightly as she reached for me, the soft fabric brushing my cheek as she wiped away the dried blood with movements that were far too careful.

Her brows pulled together. “Are you in pain?” she asked quietly.

“Nah, I’ve had worse,” I murmured, “By the way, you look so hot committing felonies for me,” I said lightly.

She shot me a glare, “Shut up,” she mumbled, “I am pretty sure he caught you trying to sneak into my room or something, I know you,” she added, just partially correct, “But that still doesn’t mean he can hurt you like this.”

I smiled slowly, feeling ever so victorious. My princess rarely ever showed me this version of herself, the one overly protective of me, and not going to lie, I fucking love it.

As she drove away, my gaze drifted casually to the car’s panel. If Adam followed my instructions correctly, we were approaching the sweet spot.

I glanced outside, noticing that we were near the stretch I chose, just as I planned.

Snow was starting to fall harder now, flakes catching in the headlights before dissolving into white static against the windshield. That part with the bad weather hadn’t been planned, but I’ll take it.

The road narrowed, trees growing denser on both sides. There were fewer streetlights, fewer people, and fewer cars. Green fields to our right, half-covered in fresh snow, leading toward scattered wooden cabins and vacation houses that looked mostly abandoned this time of year.

Not long after, the car began to slow. Finally.

The engine coughed once; it made that soft mechanical protest.

Aylin frowned, pressing the gas pedal slightly, “What the hell?” she mumbled, ever confused.

The dashboard blinked just as the engine sputtered again, louder this time. That’s when the car rolled to a reluctant stop on the side of the secluded road.

Aylin stared at the panel in bafflement, “What the…”

I leaned back slightly, “What’s wrong?”

“It says there’s no fuel,” she said. “That’s impossible. I filled it yesterday. I’m sure.”

I slightly hated that I was indirectly lying to her in a way, but after that whole fucking month she punished me with, I needed her to myself, alone, away from everything, from any threat that could take her away from me.

Aylin tried the ignition again, but the engine groaned, clicked, but refused to start.

She cursed under her breath and pushed the door open.

“I don’t understand,” she muttered as she stepped out into the snow and I followed her immediately.

Snow was falling thicker now, coating the road in a fast-growing layer of white. The trees around us swayed faintly with the wind.

She walked around the car, checking the rear, then the hood, frustration radiating from her in visible waves.

“I filled it,” she insisted. “I know I did.”

She huffed, frustration visible in the way her breath fogged into the freezing air.

I stepped closer to her. “Do you have your phone?” I asked. “I can call Adam, and he can come pick us up or something.”

She glanced at me and nodded, pulling the phone from her pocket. She unlocked it quickly, staring at the screen, “What the hell?” She mumbled lowly, holding it up higher, “There is no signal, that’s…weird.”

She turned in a slow circle, raising the phone even higher.

I shrugged lightly. “Maybe because of the weather,” I said.

I looked around casually, scanning our surroundings, “There should be a station not too far from here, maybe,” I said, brushing snow from my shoulders, “or at least one of those cabins might have someone who could help us.”

The wind picked up slightly. Fuck, it was freezing. I needed to get her inside before she caught a cold or something because of me. Now that would make me feel guilty for plotting all of this.

“You wait for me in the car,” I said calmly. “I’ll go check.”

Her head snapped toward me. “What, no!” she shot out immediately. “You’re not walking anywhere alone in this condition.”

I smiled faintly.

“Okay,” I conceded easily. “Do you at least have a jacket or something in your car?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “I guess so.”

She walked around to the back door and opened it, pulling out her coat and hat. When she turned back to me, her eyes dropped to my thin, bloodied shirt, her brows furrowing in worry.

“You should wear them,” she said quickly. “God, you’re going to get sick like this, your body is already weak.”

I flashed her a knowing look, one brow lifting. “Yeah,” I said slowly, taking the coat from her hands, “but I don’t think pink suits me.”

She blinked in confusion, and before she could protest, I stepped closer and held the coat open for her.

“Arms,” I ordered lightly.

She frowned. “Nathan—”

“Arms.”

She obeyed with a huff.

I slipped the coat over her shoulders, pulling it snug around her body and buttoning it up carefully. Then I took the white colored beanie from her and placed it over her head, adjusting it to cover her red ears properly.

“There,” I murmured, stepping back to look at her, “Now you look like a very angry, very adorable marshmallow.”

She pouted slightly, her eyes softening. “If you get sick, I’ll never forgive myself,” she whispered, the tip of her nose ever so cutely red, “You’re already injured and bleeding.”

I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer, shutting the car door behind her with my other hand.

“Don’t worry about me, princess,” I muttered, steering her gently away from the open road, “I have a very high pain tolerance.”

She snuggled into me, grabbing my hand and pushing it into her pocket, gently rubbing it with her fingers, attempting to warm me up. God, I could just eat her up.

“Does your high pain tolerance,” she mumbled softly, her eyes lowered to the snow crunching under our steps, “have something to do with the…scars on your body?”

Ah. There it is. The perfect distraction, exactly what I needed as I subtly adjusted our direction, guiding us where I wanted us to go, so I indulged her.

“Something like that,” I said lightly.

She waited for me to say more, just like she always did.

“When you’ve known pain long enough, after a while, it starts being predictable,” I added. “It becomes like a background noise,” I continued. “You learn its rhythm, when it’s coming, how long it lasts, and when it fades.”

She squeezed my hand tighter inside her pocket. “That’s not…normal,” she whispered.

“Define normal,” I replied, and she sighed loudly, having no answer for that.

We walked a little further; the road behind us was already half-covered in fresh snow, our tracks slowly fading.

She tilted her head up at me. “Does it still hurt?” she asked quietly, her eyes on my chest, “The old stuff, I mean.”

I looked down at her, snow gathering in her lashes.

I shook my head and brushed them away, watching them melt beneath my fingertips. “It gets boring. Pain is only powerful when it surprises you.”

Then I shifted us slightly off the main shoulder of the road, guiding her toward the tree line.

“You’re cold,” she murmured, pressing closer into me.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

She huffed softly. “I hate that answer.”

I leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her hat as I kept leading us away from the main road.

She didn’t notice the subtle change in direction. She was too focused on me, on warming me up, on my hand inside her pocket, too focused on my breathing.

“Tell me something,” she added softly. “Does anything actually hurt you?”

I nodded, “Only very specific things.”

She frowned, “Like what?”

I squeezed her waist gently. “Losing you,” I said.

She blinked up at me, caught off guard, then shook her head like she needed to correct reality itself. “You didn’t lose me, you…won’t.”

My lips curved before I leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over her mouth, tasting snow and cold on her lips.

She melted into me as we kept on walking, and not long after, awareness snapped back into her eyes as she glanced around, “Where are we?” she muttered, confusion threading through her voice.

“I don’t think there’s any station close to here,” I said, injecting just enough frustration into my tone, “and it’s getting colder. The snow’s not stopping.” I glanced up at the sky as flakes thickened. “We should probably seek shelter in one of these cabins.”

Her head snapped toward me. “Nathan, we can’t just knock on people’s houses.”

I gestured lazily toward the row of wooden cabins tucked between trees, warm lights glowing in some of the windows. “If we find an empty one, I can pick the lock.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “We can’t do that!”

My eyebrow rose slowly. “Would you rather watch me turn into an icicle?” I asked mildly.

She huffed, lines tightening between her brows, her guilt warring with manners. She looked around like she was trying to figure out another solution but kept on failing.

“That one doesn’t have lights on,” I said, already steering her toward the darker cabin at the end.

“Nathan…we can’t,” she insisted, though her steps followed mine anyway.

I stepped onto the porch, my shoes thudding against the wood. My hand landed on the knob when, “Nathan, don’t!” Aylin hissed, grabbing my sleeve.

“What if someone’s inside sleeping?” She hissed, her gaze flickered nervously to the windows.

I shook my head. “There is no car in the driveway like the others,” I pointed out. “It’s probably empty, let me check.”

Before she could spiral into a full moral crisis, I twisted the knob, and guess what, the door swung open.

I paused dramatically. “Well, would you look at that…” I murmured, feigning surprise. “It’s even unlocked. It’s like the universe wants us to take shelter here.”

“Nathan—”

Too late.

I stepped inside, gently pulling her in with me and shutting the door behind us.

I flicked the switch on, and warm light spilled over the room.

The cabin was impossibly cozy, exactly the kind of place my princess would love. The wooden walls were lined with shelves of old books and wine bottles, a stone fireplace already stacked with logs, and a soft woven rug beneath a low coffee table. A plaid throw blanket was draped over the couch, and fairy lights were strung lazily along the ceiling beams.

A kettle sat on the stove in the tiny open kitchen, copper pans hanging above it like some form of decoration. The place smelled faintly of pinewood and cinnamon.

I turned to her, as she eyed the place, lingering near the door like she expected the police to burst in at any second.

“Nathan,” she hissed, lowering her voice instinctively. “We’re trespassing, this is wrong, let’s go back to the car, we’ll find another way.”

I walked further in, brushing snow from my shoulders.

“Get in and stop being so goddamn moral,” I said lightly. “We’re both freezing, and I think I’m…getting dizzy. I need to lie down.” I added weakly, lying of course, just to hit her in her sensitive spot.

Her eyes snapped to me, panic replacing outrage as she rushed forward immediately.

“Oh my god, I told you,” she said, her voice rising with guilt. “Your body is already weak. We shouldn’t have gotten out in the cold, goddammit.” She pulled her hat off, shaking snow from it, glancing around like the walls were judging her. “This is still so wrong though. I feel so bad.”

“Don’t worry,” I said calmly. “I’ll leave them a bunch of money as a thank-you before we leave.”

Not technically a lie.

I just didn’t add that I already owned the place.

Her shoulders dropped a little at that, some of the tension leaving her. She unbuttoned her coat slowly, her gaze drifting around the room again.

“It’s really beautiful though, isn’t it?” she murmured softly, tilting her head toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs to the bedrooms and bathroom.

“Yeah, why don’t you go wash up, get yourself warm, and I will try to turn the fireplace on,” I suggested.

She looked at me, her eyes flickering all over my bruises, “I’ll look for a first-aid kit first,” She said, determined as she moved, scanning the place like a woman on a mission.

I watched her disappear with a small smile before turning toward the fireplace.

I crouched in front of it, opening the glass panel and adjusting the logs. The wood was already stacked neatly, waiting for us. I rearranged it slightly, struck a match from the small box on the mantle, and held it to the kindling.

The flame caught slowly at first, then it spread, and the warm orange light flickered across the stone walls.

I shut the panel and stood, brushing ash and bits of wood off my hands onto the floor without thinking.

“Nathan!” Aylin gasped, nearly scolding me.

I turned my head slowly. She was standing near, holding a small first-aid kit, staring at the few flecks of bark and ash I’d tracked across the rug like I’d just committed a crime.

“You can’t just—” she rushed forward, already crouching to gather the tiny wood pieces with her bare hands. “This is someone’s house, you can’t dirty it. I can’t believe you!”

I blinked at her in utter confusion. Out of everything I’ve done in my life, this is what gets me scolded?

She huffed and puffed, cleaning up the small mess. I considered telling her it was my place, but then I pictured her punching and hitting me, then storming out into the snow…yeah, not so wise.

When she was done rescuing the rug from my monstrosity, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the couch.

“Sit,” she muttered.

I obeyed as she pushed me down gently, then sat beside me, opening the first-aid kit and fumbling through it.

She leaned closer and dabbed at the dried blood near my temple first, and I reveled in her fussing over me…it was so rare, sue me, but I am that desperate when it comes to her, especially after a whole month of being deprived of her touch, I’d take anything.

“So, you get all moral about us trespassing, but you don’t mind violating this poor first-aid kit?”

“Well, it’s because…” she paused, failing to form words, as she cleaned the cut on my lip.

“Because?”

She shot me a glare, “Just because, shut up,” She grumbled.

I chuckled lowly, and she pressed a little harder than necessary against my split lip, on purpose.

I grunted, “Meanie.”

She narrowed her eyes at me but kept tending to my wounds, focused and stubborn and entirely too soft for this world of mine. I might’ve been slightly drugged when I asked it, but I want to marry this wicked princess soon, and keep her with me forever.

When she was done, she placed the kit aside, ready to get up, but my hand curled over her arm, pulling her to me. She yelped as she toppled against my chest.

“Stay here,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around her and fitting her perfectly between them.

Drained as me, she didn’t fight me this time, but rather sank into my hold. She wrapped one arm around my neck, her fingers threading into the back of my hair gently, soothingly, her eyes flickering all over my face.

“I got so scared when Christian called me.” Oh shit, I must call Christian, he probably thinks I am dead somewhere.

She brushed my hair on the side, ever so softly, and I forgot all about Christian, “I think losing you would be more painful than anything I’ve felt, too,” She whispered, echoing back my words.

“You won’t,” I assured her, tightening my hold around her waist.

“Promise?”

I smiled and nodded, “Promise.”

Her lips mirrored mine, lifting slightly at the edges, her shoulders relaxing. She brushed her fingers beneath my eyes, “You look so tired,” She muttered, her touch alone healing every wound of mine.

“I barely slept this past month,” I admitted. “Hard to sleep when I don’t have my favorite rhythm beneath my fingers,” I added as my hand slid up the side of her neck, brushing her pulse point.

She looked at me for a long second, then she gently guided my head down with her hand at the back of my neck.

“What are you doing?” I asked, confused.

She chuckled softly as my head settled against her chest.

“Just rest your head here,” she murmured, “and close your eyes.”

Oh.

Oh.

I exhaled slowly, “Man, you have the comfiest boobs in the world,” I muttered, snuggling into them with a dreamy sigh.

She chuckled and playfully smacked my head, “Stop.”

I pulled back just enough to look up at her, my fingers curling into the collar of her shirt, tugging it back an inch so I could peek inside, “Hey, ladies, missed me?” I asked, “Because sure as hell, I missed both of you.”

“Nathan!” Aylin whined, but she couldn’t stop the soft laugh slipping through.

I flashed her an innocent look, “What? I am checking on the ladies, they’ve been all alone for far too long.”

She shook her head, cheeks flushed, and gently guided my head back down against her chest. “Close your eyes and stop misbehaving.”

“Hmm,” I nuzzled deeper anyway, my arms tightening around her waist like I’d earned this spot through combat.

The warmth of her seeped into me, into all the bruises, all the scars, into the ache, into the exhaustion still clinging to my bones. The pain that had been throbbing within me dulled into something distant, irrelevant.

Her heartbeat thudded softly beneath my ear, so steady, alive, and only mine.

It was the most calming sound in this loud, chaotic world. Fuck it, but I almost fell asleep right there and then.

The fire crackled near us as the minutes slipped by. The snow fell harder outside. The cabin felt smaller, warmer, like the universe had folded in on itself just enough to give us this peaceful moment, away from everyone and everything.

The world couldn’t touch us here.

…or so I thought.

Aylin’s phone, which was resting on the coffee table, lit up. I lifted my head, glancing at my princess’s peaceful face, who was already fast asleep. Carefully, I moved, picking up the phone, tapping the screen.

Unknown number:
Come outside.

My eyebrows pulled closer, and I shot upright…what the fuck?

Aylin hummed softly at my movement, shifting slightly. Carefully, I let her head fall against the cushion. I picked up the blanket from the side and covered her up.

I climbed to my feet and headed toward the kitchen, opened one of the drawers, and picked up the gun I’ve left there. I checked for bullets, gripping it tight as I headed for the door.

I looked through the glass window, but the darkness made it nearly impossible to spot anything. No silhouettes were visible, no headlights, and not a single movement.

I cracked the door open slowly, the cold air slicing inside. My eyes flickered back to Aylin on the couch, checking on her before I stepped outside and closed the door quietly behind me.

I didn’t take another step, because near the porch entrance, half-buried in fresh snow, was a rock, and beneath it, a card of sorts.

I looked around, left and right, but there wasn’t a trace of anyone, or anything.

I crouched and picked up the card, snowflakes melting against the black ink, smearing it slightly at the edges.

I turned it over and read the words scribbled there.

“Get rid of the old man,
and I’ll give you the truth he buried.”

⊹˚₊‧──────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Author’s Note:

Hey!

I hope you liked the chapter.
I was going through my notes and I realized that there isn’t much left, we are getting closer and closer to the end.

Not gonna lie, I’ll miss these two crazy kids…

Anyway, since I am fasting, I am not sure how my updating schedule would be this month, but we’ll see 🙂

See ya soon 🩶