The morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, painting soft golden streaks on the pale wooden floor. A quiet stillness filled the room, fragile like the moment between dreaming and waking.
Alina blinked slowly, her lashes fluttering open. For a moment, she forgot where she was. The unfamiliar ceiling. The faint smell of sandalwood. Then her gaze shifted—to her hand.
Evander's fingers were still gently wrapped around hers.
He lay beside her on the floor, fully dressed but peacefully asleep, his chest rising and falling in rhythm. His face, usually sharp with confidence and guarded pride, now looked soft… vulnerable. A strand of hair had fallen across his forehead, and his brows were slightly furrowed, as though even in dreams he was protecting her from something.
Alina didn't move. She just watched him.
Why does he feel like a safe place I never had? she wondered. Why does it scare me… to feel this much?
She tried to slide her hand free—quietly, gently—but the moment her fingers moved, his grip tightened slightly. His eyes fluttered open.
"Leaving already?" he whispered, voice heavy with sleep.
Alina froze. "You were awake?"
Evander smiled, slow and crooked. "I was dreaming… but I guess this is better."
She turned away quickly, trying to hide the flush on her cheeks. "You talk nonsense in the morning."
Evander propped himself up on one elbow, still lazily holding her hand. "Only when the view's this pretty."
Her heart skipped.
She scowled. "Stop flirting."
"I'm not," he said, voice dropping into that low, teasing tone. "I'm being devastatingly honest."
"Evander…"
He sat up fully, still not letting go. "You were talking in your sleep, by the way."
Her eyes widened in horror. "I was not!"
He leaned closer, face barely inches from hers. "Oh, you were," he whispered dramatically. "You said, 'Evander, don't go… stay with me.'"
Alina shoved him lightly, trying to pull her hand away, but he caught her wrist and grinned.
"See? You do like me."
"I will throw a pillow at your face."
"Fine," he said, lifting both hands in mock surrender, "but at least admit I'm growing on you."
"You're like fungus," she muttered.
"And you're sunshine," he replied, eyes softening. "Annoying, blinding, but impossible not to follow."
Alina stopped. For a second, her breath hitched. He didn't smile after that—he just looked at her, gaze gentle and warm, and something about the way he said that… it made her feel seen.
Completely, and painfully.
Before either could say anything more, Alina's Phone rang, a Call of her father .
A man speaking : "Sir would like to see you both in the study. Please Come."
They exchanged a glance. Alina felt her heart sink a little, the warmth of the moment dissolving into tension.
Evander stood up first. "Let's go."
But when they reached the long, dark hallway that led to the study, something changed.
Another voice came from inside, this time directly: "Evander. Come in. Alone."
Alina frowned. She opened her mouth to speak, but Evander gently touched her arm. "It's okay. I'll be right back."
---
The door closed behind him with a heavy thud.
Alina waited outside, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sweater. The hallway felt colder now. The silence stretched on endlessly.
Inside, her father sat by the fireplace, his expression unreadable. The flames flickered, casting strange shadows across the room.
Evander walked in, cautious.
"I assume you care about her," her father began, without any small talk.
"I do."
"Then how far are you willing to go for her?" he asked, voice low, almost threatening.
Evander straightened. "As far as I have to."
Her father tapped his fingers on the armrest. "You already know what this family wants. We want reputation. Stability. Power. Marrying off Alina to someone suitable was always part of the plan."
"She doesn't want that," Evander said firmly.
"And you do?" he countered. "Do you want a quiet, messy girl who reads poetry at windows and stares at the moon like it owes her something?"
Evander's jaw clenched.
"I'll make it simple," the man said. "Make me an offer. Or leave."
Evander's voice dropped like ice. "I'll give you double what you expect from the other match. Just Give Her To Me."
Silence.
Alina, who had leaned too close to the door by accident, staggered back a step. She had heard it. Every word.
Her heart stopped.
Was that what this was?
A deal? A transaction?
Was she something to be bought?
Her chest tightened as the words echoed again in her mind: I'll give you double.
She backed away slowly, her breath quickening. And then she ran.
Inside, Evander turned toward the door instinctively. He had seen the movement—the shadow that vanished too quickly. His eyes widened.
"Alina?"
He rushed out of the room, calling her name.
"Alina! Please wait!"
But she was already running down the hallway, wiping furious tears from her face.
"Alina, stop! It's not what you think!"
She didn't stop.
Didn't look back.
Didn't listen.
The pain was louder than his voice.
---
She burst through the front doors and into the sunlight, breathing hard, heart breaking louder with every step. She ran past the gate, through the old lanes, not caring who saw her.
Tears streamed freely now. Her chest ached. Her throat felt like it was on fire.
She reached her apartment, fumbled with the keys with shaking hands, and slammed the door behind her.
Lock.
Latch.
Click.
She slid down the door, hitting the floor with a thud.
And then she broke.
Crying. Shaking. Sobbing into her palms.
"Why… why did he do this to me?"
She curled into herself on the cold floor, trembling.
"I thought he saw me," she whispered. "I thought he… loved me."
She didn't know how long she sat there.
Just that the world outside kept spinning, while inside her—something had shattered.
She was shattered after whatever happened. It broke her heart that it can never be fixed again.
Something she wasn't sure could ever be pieced back together again.