The house was packed wall-to-wall with people, music reverberating from the speakers, and confetti strewn everywhere. Most guests were deep in conversation, some inebriated enough to sway as they danced, and others locked in intense, wine-fueled debates or giggling over drinking games. Laughter and music mixed together, creating an atmosphere more akin to a house party than the quiet birthday celebration Ry had envisioned.
As he surveyed the crowd, his eyes darted around, but Lia was nowhere to be found.
"Where could she have gone now?" he muttered under his breath, frustrated but not surprised.
Ry weaved through clusters of guests, nodding and exchanging greetings with a few familiar faces. The compliments poured in from all sides.
"Great party, man!" someone shouted.
Another friend patted him on the back. "You really know how to throw a bash!"
"Thanks, yeah, just... don't mention birthday or party, alright?" Ry responded with a smirk, hoping the word hadn't been mentioned to Lia already. She'd kill him, seeing the amount of people that had turned up to her eighteenth with this unexpected celebration. He'd managed to stash a special cake in the kitchen, just for her—a simple gesture he knew she'd appreciate even if she pretended not to. Lia was one of those rare people who shrugged off her birthday entirely, and he very much understood why.
As Ry made his way to the veranda, he finally spotted her, standing under the moonlight with her back turned to the bustling scene inside. She was staring up at the sky, her hair catching the glow of the porch light and the moon's silvery hue. He felt a wave of relief as he approached, shaking his head with a smile.
"It's just a birthday, Lia. Why do you look like it's some kind of death sentence?" he teased, nudging her lightly with his elbow.
She turned to face him, her expression soft but her eyes a bit unfocused. Ry's eyebrows shot up—she was definitely tipsy. Lia took a slow, swaying step toward him, then another, until she was close enough that he instinctively took a step back. She wrapped her arms around him in a hug before he could react, her head finding a home on his shoulder.
"Thank you," she mumbled, her voice dazed and sleepy.
Ry wrinkled his nose, only half-playfully nudging her away. "Okay, that's enough. Five minutes, tops—nothing more, nothing less," he murmured, glancing around as though someone might see them. "I can't have people thinking we're... you know."
He waited, expecting her to say something, but instead, her head drooped, and a soft snore escaped her lips. Ry sighed, running a hand over his face, and checked his watch. It was already a little past eleven. Where she lived was still a mystery to him, since she was a pro at dodging questions. He gave her shoulder a gentle shake, trying to rouse her, but she only mumbled incoherently, sinking deeper into sleep.
"Guess it's piggyback time," he muttered, crouching down so he could lift her onto his back. As he adjusted her arms over his shoulders, he felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Gently, he let her down onto a nearby bench, pulled her phone out, and glanced at the screen. An unsaved number was calling.
"Hello?" he answered cautiously.
"Who is this? Isn't this Lia's phone?" The voice on the other end was curt, no-nonsense, and a bit on the intimidating side.
"This is Lia's friend, Ry. And you are…?" He tilted his head, his tone polite but curious.
"Where is Lia right now?" the caller demanded, pointedly ignoring his question.
Ry frowned. He didn't appreciate the tone, but he also didn't want to stir up trouble for Lia. "Lia's with me at the moment, and sorry, but I can't give out any more information. I don't know who you are or why you're calling." He paused, glancing at her sleeping form. "But I'll tell her to call you back when she wakes up."
Without waiting for a response, he ended the call and tucked her phone back into her pocket. Carefully, he lifted her onto his back once more and carried her upstairs to her previous room. As he laid her down, he shook his head, watching her sleep, her face peaceful.
"Glad you had some fun tonight," he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face before he left, turning off the light.
Downstairs, the crowd was thinning out, most people starting to trickle out the door. Ry returned to his remaining guests, but kept a close watch on the stairs, making sure no one ventured up to disturb Lia. The few who stayed behind shared drinks and stories until they finally left around 2 AM, leaving Ry with a blissful, peaceful silence.
Just as he was closing the door behind the last of them, there was a knock. He opened it to find a man dressed in a suit, standing with his hands clasped politely in front of him.
"Hi there. My name's Andy. I'm here to pick up Miss Lia." The man's tone was formal, but there was an unmistakable friendliness in his eyes.
Ry nodded, sizing him up quickly. "You're her family's driver, right? I think she's mentioned you once or twice." He felt a strange mix of curiosity and concern; this Andy seemed fine, but the whole situation with Lia's "new family" made him uneasy. The idea of someone buying Lia, even for whatever legal reasons were in place, didn't sit right with him.
"Wait here. I'll go get her," he said, closing the door quietly.
Ry tiptoed back upstairs, carefully opened her door, and scooped her up, carrying her down the stairs. Andy waited patiently by the door, and when Ry got close, he gently held out his arms to take her. Ry hesitated, his grip tightening reflexively, but eventually relaxed and handed her over. Ry pulled out his phone and took a picture of Andy.
"Nothing better happen to her, you hear me?" he muttered. His tone was light, but his words were not. Andy's lips quirked into a half-smile, understanding the unspoken promise and actions behind them.
"I assure you, she'll be safe," Andy replied softly. He adjusted Lia carefully in his arms before carrying her outside.
Ry stepped out to watch as Andy put her into the back seat of a sleek black car parked by the curb. Through the window, he caught a glimpse of another figure inside—though he couldn't make out any details, it was clear someone was sitting in the back seat, reaching out to secure Lia in her seat. Whoever they were, their silhouette seemed oddly intimidating, as if they held an immense power.
Back inside the car, Lia's head lolled to the side, her hand brushing against the arm of the man next to her. Rhys watched her, irritation and something inexplicably soft flitting across his face. He tried nudging her head off his shoulder, but she merely mumbled, her voice barely audible.
"Stop moving so much… dizzy…" she murmured, tightening her grip on his arm.
Rhys looked down at her slender fingers wrapped around his wrist. Something warm stirred within him, an unfamiliar feeling he hadn't allowed himself to feel for years. Her skin was soft, her hand small and delicate against his own. As the car hit a pothole, her body lurched forward, and Rhys instinctively caught her, steadying her in his lap. But she didn't wake up. Instead, she nestled her head against his chest, her breaths shallow and even.
Rhys gritted his teeth, focusing on the thud of his heartbeat in his chest. What was happening to him? He'd held dozens of women before, had been close to many more, but there was something about her presence that ignited a strange, electric current. And for the first time in seven years, he felt something stir within him, a warmth he thought he'd buried for good. His fingers curled around her shoulder, his breath catching in his throat as her hand slipped down to rest on his ears and then his chest, her fingers lightly grazing his skin through his shirt. The touch was so feather-light that he almost convinced himself it wasn't real.
Her hand slipped lower, and he let out a soft, involuntary groan, tension coiling tight within him.
No, he needed to control himself. She was Lia, just a girl—his ward, in a sense. Rhys clenched his jaw, forcing himself to gently ease her back onto her seat, strapping her seatbelt securely around her. He leaned back, drawing in a deep breath, and willed his pulse to slow. The heat still lingered on his skin, though, refusing to fade.
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Over the next few days, life resumed its normal, unremarkable pace, with Lia placed under her curfew. Rhys had ensured she received her lectures online, allowing her to focus on her studies in her room. While this seclusion initially felt like a prison, she was starting to adjust, even finding herself oddly grateful for the solitude. Still, every day her thoughts returned to that strange dynamic between Rhys and Jasmine. The woman was always draped over him like a trophy, flaunting their relationship in a way that felt almost performative.
Turning eighteen wasn't the big deal Lia had expected. Her life had remained almost identical to how it was at seventeen. She still attended lectures, ate the same food, and did her usual routines for the day. Friends were the same, conversations unchanged, and nothing had shifted—except Jasmine.
Lia sighed as she lay on her bed, staring at the faint cracks on her ceiling. Jasmine's attitude had taken an unexpected turn these past few days. The woman had gone from the polite, icy perfectionist to a borderline snob who ignored Lia outright. And when she didn't ignore her, Jasmine seemed dead set on reminding Lia of her "place" in the house, as though she were some sort of guest trespassing in Jasmine's carefully curated world. Lia rolled her eyes. The little power struggle Jasmine kept pushing on her was almost laughable; she seemed convinced Lia was a threat to her relationship with Rhys, clinging to him like her life depended on it every time they were together.
As if, Lia thought, smirking. It was obvious that Jasmine's antics were for show, desperate attempts to flaunt herself as the "mistress of the house." The truth was, Lia couldn't care less about what was going on between her and Rhys, and Jasmine's behavior was nothing short of exhausting.
Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. She checked the screen, relieved to see a familiar name: Ry.
With a smile, she put the call on speaker. "Hey, bestie!"
"Lia! Finally!" Ry's voice was loud, cheerful, and just what she needed. "I thought you'd dropped off the face of the earth or something."
She chuckled, already feeling the tension from her day start to melt away. "I know, I know. Sorry for going MIA. My phone got confiscated for a while."
Ry groaned dramatically. "Grounded at eighteen—seriously? What, did you sneak out or something?" There was a little teasing to his tone
"Pretty much," she replied playing along, rolling her eyes. "Thanks to someone, I stayed out late on my birthday, and didn't tell anyone. They took my phone and locked me down for two weeks, gave the school some excuse about online classes"
"That's insane," he replied, his voice full of sympathy and guilt. "So, are they going to let you out anytime soon?"
"Maybe in another two weeks—if I behave." She laughed, though her voice held a bit of frustration. "They've got me on a short leash, Ry. You'd think I'd stolen a car or something."
"Two more weeks?" he said in disbelief. "I might have to stage a rescue mission if they don't let you out soon."
"Yeah, like you even know where I live," she shot back with a smirk.
He laughed. "Don't underestimate me, Lia. I have my ways."
"I'm sure you do," she said, feeling a warmth settle in her chest. It was nice to have someone who cared enough to joke about breaking her out of 'jail.'
A pause hung in the air before Ry's voice turned serious. "But, uh, speaking of your birthday, do you remember how you got home that night? You were way too drunk to be coherent and aware of your surroundings."
Lia frowned, surprised she hadn't thought about that. She'd remembered drinking far too much, but not much else. "Wait… how did I get home?"
"Oh, uhm… right. Your family driver—what's his name? Andy? He showed up at my door to pick you up. You were out cold, so he just carried you into the car. Like, bridal style," he added with a chuckle.
Lia went quiet, piecing together that night's fuzzy memories. She'd gone out with very low expectations of celebrating her eighteenth birthday, But still hoping for even a sliver of happiness, only to feel more isolated. Drinking had been a bad idea in hindsight, but she'd been desperate to feel anything other than empty.
"Lia?" Ry's voice cut through her thoughts.
"Yeah, sorry," she said, shaking off the memories. "Thanks for letting me know. I guess I owe Andy a thank-you."
"So, what are you doing with all this time trapped at home?" he asked.
"Sorting out my thoughts, catching up on schoolwork." She sighed. "They set me up with online lectures, assignments, the whole thing. Thanks to Pandora, I guess."
"Man, Rhys must be some big deal if he can make that happen."
She shrugged, despite knowing he couldn't see her. "He's… something, alright." Lia had noticed it, too. Rhys wasn't just anyone. There was a power to him that was hard to ignore, a quiet authority that made people step back and take notice. It was unsettling sometimes, feeling as though he was always watching her, as though he knew things about her she wasn't even aware of herself. And yet, he rarely spoke to her directly, choosing to stay at a distance.
"Anyway, hang in there, okay?" Ry said, his voice warm. "I'll be waiting on the outside, counting down the days until we're both free."
She smiled. "You're so dramatic."
"You love it," he replied, and she couldn't help but laugh.