Bang!
Mikael's shoulder slammed into the door again. The wood groaned but held.
Bang!
He gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain that shot down his shoulder. "Damn it—open up, Mia!" he shouted, panic rising in his chest.
One final blow—and the door gave way with a loud crack, splinters flying as it crashed open.
They rushed inside. Only the soft glow of the bedside lamp lit the room.
"Mia!" Martin's voice cracked as he spotted her.
She collapsed on the floor near the bathroom, curled up in pain. Her skin was ghostly pale, drenched in cold sweat. Her lips trembled. Her breathing was shallow and broken.
"Mia!" Mikael dropped to his knees beside her. "Hey—wake up, look at me!" He gently cupped her face. She was burning up. Her body trembled beneath his hands.
"Martin!" he called out urgently. "She's burning—she has a fever!"
Martin knelt beside them, stunned for a moment. Mia looked so fragile—barely conscious, whispering something they couldn't understand.
Mikael fumbled for his phone and called Leon. "We need you. Right now. She's unconscious and burning up."
"We're already downstairs," Leon replied. "Matteo's parking. We'll be right there."
Martin ended the call and looked at Mikael, who now held Mia close like she might slip away at any moment.
"This is all my fault…" Mikael whispered hoarsely.
"Not now," Martin said sharply. "Help me move her to the bed."
They lifted her carefully. She let out a weak moan, her head resting against Mikael's chest. He held her like glass—his jaw clenched, eyes dark with guilt.
Just then, the door burst open again.
Dr. Leon entered first, a medical bag over his shoulder. His sharp gaze landed on Mia in an instant.
"She has a fever," Mikael said, his voice strained. "She threw up earlier. I think it's something she ate—or maybe more than that."
Leon moved quickly to the bedside, kneeling beside her. He checked her pulse, touched her wrist, then her neck. "Her pulse is weak but steady. She's severely dehydrated," he muttered. "Could be food poisoning, gastric reflux, or even a stomach infection. We need to cool her down and monitor her closely."
"Is she going to be okay?" Martin asked, his voice tight with worry.
"I'll do everything I can," Leon said. "But if the fever doesn't drop within the hour, we're going to the hospital."
Just then, Matteo stepped in carrying supplies—fluids, a thermometer, and medicine. He did not forget to switch on the light of the room.
His expression darkened when he saw Mia lying motionless on the bed. He said nothing but the expression on his face said otherwise. He set everything down beside Leon and helped assist him.
Martin stepped back to give them space and stood beside Mikael. "She'll be okay," he said softly, almost like a prayer.
Mikael didn't respond. His eyes were fixed on Mia, watching her chest rise and fall. His thought— unknown.
***
I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. My whole body ached, and my head throbbed faintly as if echoing pain from somewhere far away.
The sunlight streaming through the open balcony door stabbed at my eyes. I winced and quickly covered my face with my arm.
Ugh… did I forget to close the curtains last night?
As the haze in my mind slowly lifted, I peeled my hand away and blinked against the light. It took a second to recognize my surroundings.
My bedroom. I was still in my own bed.
The pain from last night—it was almost completely gone. A faint pressure lingered, but nothing like the storm that had taken me down before. Was that real? Or just some sort of nightmare?
"Awake?" a cold, tired voice spoke beside me.
I flinched slightly and turned my head.
Matteo.
He was sitting at the edge of my bed, still in yesterday's clothes. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes, and his usually sharp expression looked… worn. But his gaze stayed locked on mine—steady, unreadable.
"Second brother?" I asked, confused. "What are you doing here?"
He stared at me in silence for a beat. Then, without warning, he let out a dry laugh.
"Hah. Mia Isabella… you really know how to make someone speechless," he said, shaking his head.
"What? Why?" I frowned. "It's not that weird of a question, is it? I mean—this is still my room, right?" I shifted into a sitting position, suddenly aware of how weird it was to be lying down with my brother watching over me like some hospital patient.
Matteo's expression sobered. His gaze sharpened as he asked, "Tell me, Mia. Yesterday—what did you eat for lunch with Alex?"
The question took me off guard. His voice had turned cold again. Stern. Serious.
"What? Why are you asking about that?" I blinked. "It was just—"
"Don't lie to me." His voice was low, dangerous now. "I'm warning you, Mia. You're lucky I'm the one asking first. If Mikael or Martin got to you before I did… well, let's just say they wouldn't ask nearly as nicely."
He wasn't kidding. His expression darkened further, like he was ready to drag the answer out of me by force if he had to.
"I—I…" My words faltered. I glanced away, suddenly feeling like a criminal under interrogation. Matteo raised one brow, daring me to keep dodging.
This psycho.
"Fine!" I snapped. "I only had… ice cream. And…"
He leaned closer.
"And?"
"…Spicy ramen!" I blurted, throwing up my hands. "There! You asked—I answered. Fair and square!"
Matteo blinked, clearly not expecting me to yell it in his face.
I watched as Matteo's expression darkened by the second. His jaw clenched, and the calm in his eyes was replaced by something much more dangerous. The air around him seemed to shift—he wasn't just annoyed now. He looked murderous.
A chill ran down my spine.
Then he exploded.
"MIA ISABELLA, YOU ABSOLUTE TROUBLEMAKER!" he roared, his voice echoing off the walls.
I flinched back instinctively, my blanket halfway to my chin. Okay, maybe yelling "spicy ramen" in his face was a mistake.
Before I could even blurt out an excuse to save my neck, Matteo was already walking toward the door— pissed off. He paused with his hand on the knob and glanced back over his shoulder.
"Stay in bed. Doctor's orders," he said flatly. "Leon will check on you later."
Then he left, leaving the door slightly ajar and me blinking after him—confused, mildly embarrassed… and, weirdly, kind of hungry.
I flopped back against my pillow with a dramatic sigh. "Seriously? Who interrogates someone first thing in the morning like that?"
But the more I thought about it, the harder it became to stay mad. A small laugh bubbled out of me—then a full-blown chuckle as the memory replayed in my head.
"'Spicy ramen,'" I giggled to myself. "That man looked ready to swallow me alive."
***
In the living room downstairs, Leon sat alone, calmly sipping his coffee while reading something on his tablet.
"She's awake," Matteo said as he walked in and dropped onto the couch across from him.
Leon glanced up. "You look annoyed. What happened?"
Matteo let out a long sigh. "Don't even get me started. That troublemaker, she—" He paused, clenched his jaw, and closed his eyes to keep from cursing.
Leon leaned forward, curious. "Now I'm even more interested. What did Mia Isabella do this time to leave you speechless?"
Matteo gave him a look. "Yesterday, she ate ice cream and—"
Leon raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"Spicy ramen!" Matteo snapped, his voice rising with frustration.
Leon blinked. Then burst into loud laughter. "You're kidding! Ice cream and spicy ramen? While on her period?! Is she trying to buy a ticket to the morgue?"
Matteo didn't laugh. He just gave Leon a glare dark enough to kill a fly.
Leon wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "This girl... she's one of a kind. So? Did you scold her?"
Matteo groaned. "Do you think she listens to me? First it was shrimp, now spicy ramen. What's next—raw ghost peppers dipped in chocolate? I swear, one day she's going to give me grey hairs, and I'm not even thirty yet."
Leon grinned. "I can buy you hair dye."
Matteo shot him another glare. "Make it a lifetime supply."