CHAPTER 2
1642 Words
Rose couldn’t help but think about Larkan. His face, his voice, the way he looked at her when he was hurting—all of it haunted her. The guilt gnawed at her insides like a silent beast. She should have left. She should never have looked back. But how could she pretend nothing happened when everything had changed?
Distance. That’s what she needed. Space to think. Space to breathe. And most of all, space away from him.
She sat on the edge of her bed, still wrapped in silence. The room was uniquely hers—her childhood dream turned into reality. She had once jokingly told Larkan that she wanted a Barbie-themed room when she was young. He remembered. And now, here it was: a glamorous blend of soft pinks, gold accents, and crisp white furniture. Girly, yes—but not without sophistication. Crystal light fixtures dangled from the ceiling like stars, and elegant rose-trimmed curtains danced in the faint breeze from the open window.
Her gaze dropped to the photo on the bedside table.
She picked it up, her fingers trembling as they brushed over the frame. It was from her high school graduation pictorial—she and Larkan standing side by side, smiling as if nothing in the world could break them. Her heart twisted. That had been one of their happiest moments. Back when everything was simple. Back when love bloomed between them without consequence.
Flashback…
Back in high school, Rose had been admired by many. Not because she tried to be, but because of her effortless charm. She was radiant, approachable, and kind to everyone. But it was all a carefully built mask. Beneath the smile and laughter was a girl still mourning the loss of her parents. The sorrow was quiet, buried deep within, but it never truly left her. Only Annalyn, her closest friend, knew the truth—that Rose was merely pretending to be okay.
Rose never dreamed of marriage or fairy tales. She wanted to travel the world, eat good food, meet people, and chase sunsets. After her parents died, nothing else seemed to matter.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
The voice and sudden tap on her shoulder startled her. Rose jerked away, nearly jumping toward the hallway wall. She had been waiting quietly outside the classroom, leaning against the railing, deep in thought.
Annalyn burst out laughing. “You should’ve seen your face!”
Rose scowled. “Tsk. That wasn’t funny.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a baby,” Annalyn teased, pouting dramatically.
Rose tried to hold her frown but couldn’t help smiling back. “Fine. But—”
Annalyn raised a brow. “But what?”
Rose’s grin widened. “You know what I want.”
Annalyn sighed, already knowing what was coming. “Let me guess—you want to eat at our house again?”
“Bingo!” Rose clapped her hands together like a child given a treat.
“Our chef isn’t just some cook, okay? He’s award-winning. And I swear if you keep showing up for dinner, my cousin might charge you rent.”
Rose giggled. “I’ll leave before he comes back. Promise.”
Annalyn groaned but eventually gave in. “Alright, alright. Just don’t stay too long. You know how Larkan is.”
Larkan. The name alone sent a shiver down Annalyn’s spine. Her cousin was only in college, but already he was the CEO of their family corporation. Ruthless, cold, brilliant. And terrifying.
Later that day, Rose rode with Annalyn to her mansion—an extravagant estate surrounded by silent guards and iron gates. This wasn’t her first time visiting, but the place still felt intimidating. The guards never smiled. Everyone moved with calculated precision.
“So where’s your cousin?” Rose asked while waiting for the food, twirling a spoon in her hand out of boredom.
Annalyn’s face darkened. She leaned in and covered Rose’s mouth.
“Don’t mention him. Especially not here.”
“Why?”
“He’s dangerous. Just… trust me. Don’t try to get close to him.”
Rose wanted to ask more, but the food arrived—and her curiosity was no match for her love of food. She dove into the meal with enthusiasm, making Annalyn shake her head.
“You’ll get kidnapped one day because of your stomach,” Annalyn muttered.
After dinner, as planned, Rose prepared to head home. Annalyn wanted her to stay longer, but fear of Larkan’s disapproval loomed like a shadow over her hospitality.
The drive home was uneventful—until it wasn’t.
They were passing through a remote part of the outskirts when gunfire rang through the night. Her driver swerved instinctively, taking a detour away from the commotion. Rose’s heart raced. Her bodyguard reached for his weapon, instantly alert.
As the car turned the corner, Rose caught a glimpse of the chaos. Men in black suits were fighting—some shooting, some already on the ground. Then she saw him.
Larkan.
He was wounded, trying to fend off attackers, blood staining his suit. Despite never meeting him in person before, she recognized him from photos and news articles.
“Stop the car!” Rose shouted.
The driver didn’t budge.
“I said stop!”
Realizing she was serious, the driver skidded to a halt. Her bodyguards leapt out, rushing to help. Rose remained inside, frozen, watching with wide eyes as the scene unfolded.
Why did she care so much? Maybe because Larkan meant something to Annalyn. Maybe because she had the power to help. Or maybe—deep down—something about Larkan called to her in a way she couldn’t explain.
The gunfire stopped. Larkan’s enemies retreated, leaving him slumped against a wall, barely conscious.
Rose stepped out of the car and approached slowly.
When she got close, Larkan raised a trembling hand and pointed a gun at her.
Her bodyguard aimed back instantly.
“Wait!” Rose raised her hands. “I’m Rose. Annalyn’s best friend. I’m here to help. They’re my bodyguards.”
Larkan’s grip faltered. He looked at her, confused, wary—but exhausted. His arm dropped.
Then, he collapsed.
“Carry him,” Rose ordered.
The bodyguards lifted him into the car. One of them pressed on his wound to slow the bleeding.
Rose stayed by Larkan’s side, supporting his head as he groaned softly. His eyes fluttered open for a second.
“Stay…” he whispered.
His voice was weak, barely audible. But something in it tugged at her heart.
She tried to pull away, but he clutched her wrist.
She didn’t resist.
They drove to her home instead of the hospital. It was safer—her house had been equipped with a private medical room and doctors on call since her childhood due to her own health issues. It was her parents’ way of protecting her, a legacy that now extended to someone else.
When they arrived, the doctors were already waiting. The room was prepped, and Larkan was brought in. As they laid him on the table, Rose tried again to free herself from his grip.
This time, she succeeded—but not without something falling from his wrist.
A bracelet.
She didn’t notice it at first, too focused on the medical chaos. She stepped outside to call Annalyn, updating her through ragged breaths. Her friend was stunned, but promised to come right away.
When she ended the call, one of her guards approached.
“Miss, this was dropped by—”
Before he finished, she snatched the bracelet from his hand.
It was old, worn, but familiar.
Her heart stopped. She stared at it, breathless, recognizing the small engraving on the underside. A name. A date.
It matched one her mother used to mention.
Her eyes darted toward the operating room.
“I finally found you,” she whispered.
Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry. Not now.
She sank to the floor beside the door, her back against the cold wall.
Waiting.
Hours later, after Larkan had stabilized, Rose sat beside his bed, watching his pale face. His breathing was steady but shallow. A doctor advised her to rest, but she refused to leave.
The bracelet weighed heavily in her hand.
Why did he have it?
Memories she had buried began to resurface. Her mother’s voice. Her father’s stories of a boy who once stayed with them. A child they sheltered and protected.
Larkan.
Could it be?
Her parents once mentioned a child—an orphan who has unkown family. He had no name then, only scars and silence. Her father gave him a new identity. A new life. When the danger passed, he left, leaving behind the bracelet as a sign of thanks.
Rose never knew the boy’s name. She was too young. But now…
The pieces clicked into place.
Larkan wasn’t just Annalyn’s cousin. He was the child her family once saved. And in a cruel twist of fate, he had unknowingly entered her life again.
She looked at him, sleeping. A shadow of the boy he once was.
No wonder he kept his distance. No wonder he was always so guarded. He remembered. And yet he never said anything.
Tears slid down her cheeks.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered, gripping the bracelet tightly. “I didn’t know it was you.”
She finally understood why he had moments of unexpected kindness. He owed her parents his life. And now, somehow, he was trying to repay that debt—through her.
But Rose didn’t want repayment. She wanted the truth. She wanted to understand.
When Larkan stirred slightly, she leaned in, gently brushing his hair from his forehead.
“I’ll stay,” she murmured. “You’re not alone anymore.”
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- Writer
