Then–thuds. Screams started before I opened my eyes. Fortunately, the pain I braced for
never came.
When I finally dared to look, the men were sprawled across the alley floor, groaning, some barely conscious.
Still trembling, I sank into a crouch, my limbs weak with the shock of being spared.
And then… footsteps.
From the far end of the alley, a tall figure approached, the rain parting around his silhouette. Black leather shoes splashed through puddles without haste.
“Can you stand?”
A hand extended toward me–long fingers, knuckles split, blood still fresh on the skin. I looked up slowly and met a pair of laughing, fox–like eyes that gleamed with something dark and dangerous in the night.
I recognized that face.
Victor Reese. Samuel’s sworn rival.
In the Capitol’s Elite Circles, he was infamous–charming, wicked, untamed. The kind of man people whispered about behind closed doors.
They said he went through women like wine and burned through pleasure like oxygen. That he was already hollowed out inside.
Whenever Samuel talked about Victor, he always frowned.
“That guy’s a spoiled brat,” he’d say. “Spends his days fooling around. None of the old members in the Capitol’s Elite Circle have any respect for him.”
I’d seen Victor once at a party. He was/admittedly good–looking, but he had some busty, overly made–up woman draped on his arm–totally out of place among the polished crowd. He didn’t seem to care, though. Moved through the room like he owned it, flashing easy smiles and greeting everyone like old friends.
Since that night, my impression of him had been… pretty awful.
I opened my mouth to say something, but everything went black. I collapsed forward.
A pair of strong arms caught me before I hit the ground.
The last thing I remembered before losing consciousness was the faint scent of cologne on his shirt–something woodsy and expensive, mingled with rain and blood.
When I woke up, I was lying in a beautifully decorated bedroom, done in foreign yet soft tones. Sunlight streamed through sheer curtains, warming the plush bedding.
On the nightstand, a collection of porcelain dolls caught my eye–an exact set I’d once fallen in love with but never managed to find. Limited edition.
“You’re awake?” His voice was lazy.
Victor stood in the doorway, arms crossed. He’d changed into a crisp white shirt, sleeves
14.. Billionaire Hushand and the Twin College Girls
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On the nightstand, a collection of porcelain dolls caught my eye–an exact set i’d onc fallen in love with but never managed to find. Limited edition
“You’re awake?” His voice was lazy.
Victor stood in the doorway, arms crossed. He’d changed into a crisp white shirt, steeves
rolled neatly to the forearm. He looked nothing like the man I’d seen at that party
I blinked. The words slipped out before I could stop them. “You look good like this”
Victor paused, clearly surprised. Then he let out a low chuckle, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he laughed.
Realizing what I’d just said, my face went red–hot. I yanked the covers up to my nose in embarrassment.
“They found out who sent those guys after you,” he said, pulling a chair up beside the bed with an easy grace, long legs casually crossed. “It was Nell Barnes. I’ve already taken care
of it.”
I stared at him, stunned. My fingers twisted the edge of the blanket without thinking.
“What?” he asked, one brow lifting. His mouth curved into a smirk. “Thought I was just some sleazy playboy?”
The next morning, I was woken by a team of doctors in white coats bustling quietly around
the room.
Victor leaned against the wall, watching.
“You keep clutching your stomach,” he said, almost too casually. “So I called in my granddad’s medical team. Just to be safe.”
When the test results came back, Victor’s expression turned terrifyingly dark.
“Early–stage stomach cancer,” he said through gritted teeth, his fists clenching at his sides. “Alexia, what have you been doing all these years?”
I didn’t understand why he looked so furious.
Treatment was hell. I couldn’t keep anything down; nausea hit like a tidal wave. But whenever I was at my worst, Victor was there. Steady hands on my shoulders, keeping me upright, grounding me.
One afternoon while I was getting an IV, my phone buzzed. A notification from Nell’s social
media.
Nine square photos. She was wearing my old pajamas, curled up in my former bed. The last image showed a baby bottle on my nightstand.
The caption read: [“Thanks to someone for making room. Now it finally feels like home.“]
I couldn’t get it out of my head. That night, I tossed and turned in pain, unable to sleep. Then suddenly, something soft was pressed between my lips–a peach–flavored candy. The sweetness melted slowly on my tongue.
“Sweet?” His voice came from the dark, gentle and warm. His fingertip brushed the corner of my mouth.
Chapter 5
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Mon, 20 May
Treatment was hell. I couldn’t keep anything down; nausea hit like a tidal wave. But whenever I was at my worst, Victor was there. Steady hands on my shoulders, keeping me upright, grounding me.
One afternoon while I was getting an IV, my phone buzzed. A notification from Nell’s social media.
Nine square photos. She was wearing my old pajamas, curled up in my former bed. The last image showed a baby bottle on my nightstand.
The caption read: [“Thanks to someone for making room. Now it finally feels like home.“] I couldn’t get it out of my head. That night, I tossed and turned in pain, unable to sleep. Then suddenly, something soft was pressed between my lips–a peach–flavored candy. The sweetness melted slowly on my tongue.
“Sweet?” His voice came from the dark, gentle and warm. His fingertip brushed the corner of my mouth.
I drifted into sleep with the taste of fruit and comfort lingering.
A month later, just after sunrise, Victor burst into my hospital room waving a test report in his hand.
“All your levels are normal!” he exclaimed.
I looked at his tired face, his hair a mess and felt something twist in my chest. “When’s the last time you actually slept?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly paused and sniffed the air. “Wait… what’s that smell?”
The room went dead quiet.
Victor–the same Victor who was always so smooth, so cocky–turned red. His ears actually flushed as he looked away.
After an awkward beat, he stood abruptly. “I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
Recovery was slow, but every day felt lighter. That morning, I even finished two bowls of warm soup.
The door creaked open again. Victor walked in, freshly showered, wearing a crisp white shirt. Water still clung to the ends of his hair and the top two buttons were undone, revealing just a hint of his collarbone.
I swallowed hard–instinctively.
Chapter 6
