I was frozen on the spot. The men were all observing me inquisitively from afar. It looked like they had just spotted a very rare deer in the wild and were waiting for its next move—like if they did anything too quickly, I would bolt.
Honestly, I probably would, if I could.
Kai saw my face, his expression a mix of awkwardness and mild concern. “So… uh, I was going to say that I should probably tell you—we’re not alone.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. The sweat beading on my forehead and above my upper lip was starting to trickle down. It felt like someone had lit a fire on my cheeks.
He could have other people staying at the vacation house, right?… Right? No, this has to be a trap. They must be the gangsters. They must have somehow found me… but how so quickly? I can’t even fight off one of them like this—let alone the whole group. Oh God, I have to get out… but how?
My thoughts spiraled into chaotic loops, each more frantic than the last. Are these people actually my saviors…?
“Hey, are you still with me?” Kai’s voice broke through my panic, grounding me just enough to pull me back into the room. His grip on my arm, steady yet loose, was the only thing keeping me from launching myself out the nearest window like a startled pigeon.
I mumbled, “Hmm. Yeah, yeah…”
I wasn’t sure if it was because of how close we were standing or because Kai could simply read people that well, but he could clearly sense how flustered I was.
“So, before you continue freaking out—which, honestly, would be a real hassle given your current state—these are my older brothers. And, well, this is our vacation home, remember? We came here to relax, and we found you at the bridge when we were out together.”
The four men nodded in their own ways. From where I stood, they didn’t exactly scream “kidnapper” or “gangster,” but I knew better than anyone how deceiving appearances could be.
Still, the pieces started falling into place. Kai had been referring to “we” and “us” back in the white room. I hadn’t caught on then, but now it was clear. Maybe he wasn’t trying to trick me. Maybe.
Let’s calm down, okay? Panicking isn’t going to help—it’ll just make things worse. First, figure out what’s happening. Then, wait for a chance to escape when your health improves. If they wanted to kill you, they’d have done it already—right? That means there’s time. Worst-case scenario? Push your luck until it snaps. Solid plan. Yes. Yep. Totally foolproof… You’ve held on through exponentially worse things, Zara. Deep breaths. You’ve got this. Probably.
Kai gestured toward a door on the far side of the room, past the sofas where the men sat. “The closest bathroom is over there. Let’s get you there first. After that, we can do introductions, if needed.”
The mention of a bathroom brought back the urgency I’d been ignoring in my newfound panic. Ridiculously enough, the moment I was reminded of it, I realized I needed to use it quite badly. I nodded quickly, trying not to think about how absurd it was to worry about that given the current situation.
In any case, it was obvious that Kai’s words weren’t entirely for my benefit. One of his brothers, perched on the edge of the sofa, looked like he was about to stand and approach me. But as soon as Kai spoke, the man leaned back again, as if he’d reluctantly decided to let the youngest sibling take the lead. The others, meanwhile, exchanged looks that I couldn’t quite decipher—equal parts curiosity and mild amusement.
Their eyes followed me as Kai guided me across the drawing room. The weight of everything I’d been through was starting to bear down on me again. Exhaustion tugged at my limbs, and I didn’t have the energy—or the nerve, for that matter—to acknowledge the men properly. My mind locked onto the bathroom door ahead, as though it were some kind of sanctuary. I blocked out everything else, focusing solely on putting one foot in front of the other without collapsing.
Nonetheless, the silence in the room—broken only by our slow, shuffling steps—amplified the awkwardness. The distance between me and the door felt unbearably long.
I stole a glance at the group and muttered, barely audible, “I wouldn’t have guessed you were all brothers…”
One of the men chuckled, his tone rich with amusement. “Well, that’s presumptuous of you. What if we’re all adopted?”
“Unlikely, but sure —” Before I could form a proper response, I glanced at the man—and the words didn’t just catch in my throat; they staged a full-on protest, barricading themselves from leaving my lips.
‘Handsome’ was a criminal understatement. The man exuded a magnetic, effortless elegance that felt almost unfair. A playful yet kind smile tugged at his pillow-soft lips, lighting up his bright, round eyes with a genuine warmth. His wavy hair fell in perfectly imperfect locks, framing his face in a way that seemed both accidental and maddeningly deliberate. Honestly, he could’ve been considered stunning even if he’d been plopped down on another planet.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Despite his tired demeanor, his presence radiated a comforting energy—a stark contrast to Kai’s sharper, more intense vibe. Kai, however, didn’t seem to share the sentiment. He was glaring at the man with unmistakable annoyance, his expression practically screaming, Not again.
“Ah, not now,” Kai muttered, his voice laced with thinly veiled exasperation, like someone bracing themselves for an all-too-familiar routine. “Please—”
“Kai. Zane. Let’s calm down,” a firm, steady voice cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter. “She’s already overwhelmed. Let’s not throw anything else at her.”
So, the absurdly attractive man is Zane.
Kai grumbled under his breath but eventually relented. “Got it, Theo.”
And he’s Theo.
The atmosphere in the room shifted subtly as Theo spoke, his calm authority settling over everyone like a quiet, grounding presence. Zane, now grinning with a teasing glint in his eye, leaned back in his seat, shrugging as if to say, Fine, I’ll behave—for now.
Although I didn’t know them, it was clear from their body language that Theo was the one they all listened to. There was something unshakable about him, an effortless command in the way he carried himself. The way the others deferred to him was starkly different from how they treated Kai, who seemed more like the youngest sibling they humored out of fondness. Theo, though? He felt like the center of the room—the quiet axis they all unconsciously revolved around.
He smiled at me gently, his dimples deepening in a way that softened his otherwise commanding presence. “To clarify, we’re Kai’s cousins, so you’re technically right—we’re not brothers in the strictest sense. But we’re closer than most siblings.” His voice was warm and reassuring. “Don’t worry about us. If you need anything, just let Kai know—or any of us, really.”
I nodded faintly, finding it hard to meet his steady gaze for too long. Theo signaled Kai to continue, and we resumed our slow trek toward the bathroom.
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Kai pushed the bathroom door open and hesitated, his tone hovering somewhere between detached and oddly reluctant. “Use the sink and walls for support. If you need anything… yell or something. One of us will hear you.”
I glanced up at him, catching the briefest flicker of hesitation in his posture. Is he weighing whether I’d somehow trip over my own feet the moment he lets go?
Whatever the reason, I let go first, steadying myself against the sink as I stepped inside. Without sparing him another look, I closed the door and locked it behind me.
For the first time since waking up in this disorienting situation, I exhaled deeply. The solid barrier between me and the rest of them was more comforting than I expected. It felt like I’d finally carved out a tiny pocket of safety, however temporary.
At least now, I can use the toilet in peace.
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As I washed my hands, I caught my reflection in the mirror. To say I looked worn out would not even begin to cut it. My face was gaunt, almost unrecognizable, as if the person staring back was someone else entirely.
I reached up and lightly touched the bandage wrapped neatly around my forehead. It wasn’t as sore as I expected, though the sight of it still made me wince. My left eye and lips showed faint traces of swelling, painted with tinges of blue and purple, like the aftermath of a storm. Tiny cuts decorated my cheeks, their raw edges glistening under some kind of ointment. Bandages hugged the corners of my left ear with a quiet firmness, a subtle reminder of how close I’d come to unraveling completely.
As my gaze traveled further, I began to notice the faint marks that didn’t seem fresh. Subtle discolorations—shades of faded green and sickly yellow—ran along my upper arms, barely visible under my sleeves but unmistakably present. Older bruises, chronic reminders of my past. I reached for one without thinking, my fingers brushing lightly over the surface. As I pressed, it wasn’t painful anymore, but tears welled up in my eyes as deep resentment and heartbreak stirred inside, in a place I didn’t know how to reach.
I should just be grateful to be alive right now. But how can I, with everything that’s happened? How do I keep moving forward when I don’t even know what “forward” looks like anymore? Can I actually ever move on? Still… I have to hang in there. Even if I don’t know what to live for, I know now that I don’t want to die. So, I have to.
I let out a shaky sigh and dipped my head, avoiding my reflection as though it were judging me. Turning away, I finally noticed the space I was in.
The bathroom was enormous—larger than any I could have ever imagined. The white marble floors radiated warmth against my cold feet, and the soft glow of hidden lighting gave the room an almost dreamlike quality. Past the toilet and sink near the door, the space expanded into what felt like an entirely different world. On one side stood a sleek shower encased in glass walls, and on the other, a luxurious corner bathtub surrounded by lush, vibrant plants. Between them sat a wooden bench, simple yet inviting.
I wasn’t sure what drew me to it, but my legs seemed to carry me forward on their own. The warmth from the floor climbed up my legs, chasing away some of the bone-deep exhaustion. Slowly, almost hesitantly, I sank down onto the bench.
I’m so tired. I just don’t want to go back outside. I don’t want to think about what’s happening or how everything in my life feels broken beyond repair. I’m too exhausted to panic anymore. Too drained to even be scared.
Without much thought, I swung my legs up onto the bench and curled into a fetal position, resting my head on my arms. My body felt heavy, but the bench beneath me was surprisingly comfortable.
Sleep was creeping up on me faster than I expected. Drowsiness blurred the edges of my thoughts, pulling me into its quiet embrace. I didn’t even hear the faint clatter of the bathroom door or notice it opening.
I might have caught a soft exhale—barely audible—before I felt two firm hands scoop me up. My body was weightless, floating like I was drifting in a dream.
Am I floating?
My eyes fluttered open, just enough to catch a blurry glimpse of a man’s face. His round, warm eyes hovered above me, framed by slightly furrowed brows that seemed equal parts confused and concerned. There was something familiar about those eyes, something safe. But before I could place him, my lids grew heavy again, and the world went dark once more.
This is so cozy.
The gentle motion of being carried lulled me further into sleep. Somewhere on the edge of consciousness, I heard a voice—feminine, soft, and clear.
“Zane, can you lay her down in my room for now?”
And just like that, I let go, surrendering to the quiet comfort of the moment.