Lilia's Pov-

The suitcase was already half full, but my excitement only grew as I tossed in more clothes, some shoes, and a few magazines. Freedom was so close, I could practically taste it.

For years, I had dreamt of this moment—of finally stepping outside my family’s suffocating rules, of making my own choices without my father’s heavy gaze watching my every move. No more curfews. No more bodyguards trailing me like shadows. No more being treated like a fragile porcelain doll.

I hummed to myself as I reached for my favorite pair of heels. But as my fingers brushed against something unexpected, my movements halted.

A photo album.

My breath hitched.

It sat beside a box filled with old toys and tiny dresses, neatly packed away and forgotten—until now.

A heavy feeling settled in my chest as I picked up the album. I hesitated before flipping it open, my eyes scanning through the faded photographs. There she was—my younger self, grinning up at the camera with an innocence I no longer had.

She would be so happy right now.

I was finally getting what I always wanted.

Would she be happy after knowing what did it cost me?

I swallowed hard. My fingers tightened around the edge of the album, and I forced myself to take a deep breath.

Don’t cry, Lilia. Don’t cry.

But the memories weighed on me. The warmth. The safety. The love. I would never be that happy again, would I?

Even though I didn’t know what happened… it still haunted me.

Shaking my head, I shoved the album back into the box. No time for ghosts today.

Instead, I turned to my hidden compartment at the back of the shelf—a tiny cupboard disguised behind my childhood toys. A smirk curled on my lips as I opened it, revealing my precious collection.

My dark romance novels.

Niv, my best friend had smuggled them in for me, sneaking them past my overbearing family. I was never allowed to read them openly, but now?

Now, I had my own place.

And I would finally read in peace.

I grinned, hugging my books like long-lost lovers before stuffing them into my bag.

Freedom, here I come.

―MORNING―

It didn’t feel real until I was actually sitting inside Adrian’s Rolls-Royce, my entire life packed into a few suitcases.My stomach twisted with anticipation, and I couldn’t even bring myself to eat breakfast.

I was vibrating with excitement. My mind raced with all the things I could do now that I was finally free.

No curfews. No rules. No one stopping me from ordering food at 3 a.m. Just pure, unfiltered independence.

I giggled to myself, my brain spinning with the possibilities.

Adrian, sitting beside me, gave me a deeply concerned look. “What the hell is so funny?”

I gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I think you meant to say, ‘Wow, my dear little sister, you look like a vision of joy and independence.'"

“No.”

Wow. Rude.

“You’re scaring me,” he added, his tone deadpan.

“Why?” I smirked. “Because I finally have my own place?”

“No, because you look like a child who just got left unsupervised in a candy store.”

I flipped my hair. “Well, good news, brother. I am unsupervised.”

Adrian sighed heavily, rubbing his temples like I personally gave him migraines. “Your bodyguard will arrive at 5 p.m. Until then, I’ll stay with you.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Do you have to?”

He shot me a look. “Yes.”

“But—”

“No.”

I huffed. “Oh, come on, what could possibly happen in broad daylight? It’s not like my bodyguard is moving in with me, right?”

Silence.

I narrowed my eyes. “Right?”

Adrian gave me a suspiciously neutral look.

Oh no.

“No way,” I breathed. “Tell me he’s not moving in.”

Adrian looked away.

I groaned. “Oh my God.”

He still didn’t speak.

I smacked his arm. “You sneaky dictator!”

He smirked. “I prefer the term ‘responsible older brother.’”

I collapsed dramatically against the car seat. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

"He's not really moving in right?"

He starred at me for a second before laughing out loud. "Well, I was just enjoying a bit but I don't mind if he moves in as well—"

"No, please," I pleaded, my voice desperate. After what felt like endless persuasion, he finally agreed—but not without setting several conditions.

By the time we pulled up to the penthouse, my excitement was back at full force.

The car stopped, and I practically threw the door open, ready to sprint inside—until something red caught my eye.

My jaw dropped.

A massive red ribbon was wrapped around the penthouse door, tied into a huge bow like I was about to cut the ribbon at some grand opening ceremony.

I turned slowly to find Adrian standing behind me, smirking.

“Oh. My. God.” I gasped. “You did not.”

Adrian crossed his arms. “I did.”

A scream of pure delight tore from my throat.

The guards stared like I was fucking insane, but who cared?

I grabbed Adrian’s hands dramatically. “Oh, my son, you have fulfilled my dream of owning my own house!”

“Shut up,” he muttered.

“Don’t talk to your mother that way."

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re emotionless.”

Adrian shoved a pair of scissors into my hands. "Enough with the bad acting. Just cut the damn ribbon."

I grinned like a lunatic and cut the ribbon like a queen inaugurating her palace.

Then I practically sprinted inside.

The penthouse was stunning.

It wasn’t as gigantic as our family mansion, but for one person? It was massive.

Soft beige and white walls. Two grand staircases. A cozy yet modern aesthetic.

But my eyes locked onto the dining table.

A vase sat at the center.

Filled with sunflowers and orchids.

My favorite flowers.

I froze.

Adrian remembered?

I turned to him, my throat tight.

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t get emotional.”

I launched myself at him anyway.

“Lilia, let go.”

“Never.”

“You’re suffocating me.”

“I don’t care.”

“I should’ve left you at home.”

“You’d miss me too much.”

“Whatever.”

But I swore I saw the corner of his lips twitch.

I explored the penthouse, moving upstairs where five rooms awaited. The first one was minimal—just a table, a chair, and a large glass window that allowed sunlight to spill in.

"You can turn this into whatever you want," Adrian said from behind me.

I nodded before moving to the next room, assuming it was a bathroom, but before I could step inside the third room, Adrian suddenly covered my eyes.

"Hey! What the hell—"

"Shh," he murmured. "It’s a surprise."

He pushed the door open and slowly removed his hands. I blinked once. Twice.

A grand piano stood in the center of the room, its black surface polished to perfection, reflecting the golden glow of the chandelier above.

I took a sharp breath.

I had once loved playing the piano. As a child, I would spend hours at the keys, lost in melodies that spoke louder than words. But my parents had deemed it a waste of time, stripping me of my passion. They had thrown out my piano, forcing me to let go of that part of myself.

But now—

Now, it was right in front of me again.

I hesitantly reached out, tracing the cool surface with my fingertips. This isn’t a dream, right?

I smacked Adrain's arm, only realizing how hard it was when he hissed in pain.

"Opps— I was trying to know if it's real or not." i smiled sheepishly while he glared me.

"T-Thank you," I whispered this time, my voice barely audible.

Adrian didn’t respond, but I knew he heard me.

And in that moment, I silently promised myself—I would repay him for this.

Finally, we reached my bedroom.

Pink crepe walls, a white ceiling, posters of my modeling shoots, and a massive closet attached to the side. My clothes were neatly arranged, including new ones Adrian had bought.

I turned to thank him again, but—

“I have to go,” Adrian said abruptly. “Urgent call.”

I blinked.

Excuse me?

“Hold on—now you’re leaving?”

Was this the same man who refused to let me stay alone a few hours ago?

Suspicious.

But whatever. “Sure, go ahead.”

I watched him leave, suddenly feeling a little too alone in the giant house.

By the time Adrian finally left, it was 2:30 p.m.

I was starving, so I went to the kitchen and decided to bake cookies.

I found some ingredients and decided to bake cookies. As the oven hummed, I put on my headphones, letting the music take over. Without realizing it, I started dancing.

"If anyone saw me right now, they’d probably call me a maniac—but honestly, who cares? I was living my best life."

It was liberating.

Just as the oven beeped, a strange sensation prickled at the back of my neck.

Someone was watching me.

My heart pounded. Adrian? The guards?

My body stiffened. I turned around—

A man, almost twice my size, leaned casually against the doorway. His dark eyes bore into mine, his stance relaxed yet predatory.

I gasped, stumbling back, my hands frantically searching for something—anything—to defend myself. My fingers curled around the scissors I had left on the counter.

"Who are you?!" I demanded, pointing the blade at him. "Stay back! I swear I’ll call the police! You can’t kidnap me! My bodyguard is here, and he’ll—he’ll break every bone in your body!" I know I was rambling nonsense, but that's exactly what I'd do—even if I were on the brink of death.

Silence.

Then, a deep chuckle.

"Sweetheart," his voice was rich, laced with amusement. "If you’re trying to threaten me, at least point the scissors in the right direction."

I blinked.

Glanced down.

Realization struck—I was aiming the scissors at myself.

Heat flooded my face, and I quickly corrected my stance.

"How did you get in?!" I demanded.

The man smirked, taking slow steps toward me. I took an equal number of steps backward until my back hit the counter.

He leaned in, his chest just inches from my face. I craned my neck up to meet his gaze, my breath hitching.

"Do you even know who I am?" I challenged.

He grabbed my wrist, making me drop the scissors effortlessly.

"Lilia Whitmore," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "Twenty years old. Model. Face of Velmoria."

I froze.

He leaned even closer, his lips brushing against my ear.

"Aren’t you curious to know who I really am?"

"No" I breathe out.

A sudden chill ran down my spine, goosebumps prickling my skin as the hairs on my arms stood on end. Who was he? As far as I knew, my bodyguard wasn’t supposed to arrive until 5 p.m.

Then who was this man?

My breath caught in my throat, frozen in the moment—until his voice shattered the silence.

"Breathe, Lilia," he whispered.

I was so screwed.