VILLA OF THORNS

FLICKER OF DARKNESS

The candles had burned down to stubby nubs, and the last of the bubbly sat forgotten in the kitchen when the lights abruptly died. One moment, the lake house was alive with laughter and the soft glow of lamps; the next, it was swallowed by silence—and total darkness.

Katie's gasp echoed through the living room as Alina toppled off the couch, sending a scatter of novelty handcuffs and sequins skittering across the hardwood floor. Aria shrieked, instinctively clutching her feather boa. The others froze, half‑laughing, half‑frightened, until Wendy's calm voice cut through the panic.

"It's just a power cut," she said, fumbling for her phone's flashlight. A weak beam sprung to life, illuminating stunned faces and worrying shadows. "Probably the fuse. We'll be fine."

"Let me call Yannis on the landline," Milly whispered, her voice trembling. "He'll know what to do."

⸻

On the Phone

Yannis was halfway through a toast—champagne flute in hand—surrounded by his closest friends at the villa where his bachelor party was winding down. He hovered on the edge of the celebration, silent, watching the jovial uproar but drinking only water.

When his phone rang, he recognized it was from the lake house and answered on the first ring. "Milly?"

Her voice was sharp with urgency. "The lake house—there's been a blackout. No generator, no cell service, no idea when the power's coming back. The house is pitch‑black, and we're... we're kind of freaking out."

Yiannis's jaw clenched. "Stay calm. Are you all together?"

"Yeah—all eight of us. But it's cold, and we can't see a thing. I don't know what to do."

"Don't move. "I'm sending the car." He looked around the villa: his groomsmen sprawled on sofas, glasses still in hand, startled by the sudden seriousness. "Gentlemen," he called, voice low but commanding. "Milly's had an emergency at the lake house. I need a driver and one backup."

Adrian leaped up. "I'm on it." He grabbed keys from the valet and slipped out. Another friend, Konstantinos, stopped his own drink to join. Yannis ended the call and stood, shoulders squared, as the bachelor party's chatter fell silent around him.

⸻

A Ride Through the Dark

Forty minutes later, headlights cut through the trees as the sleek black sedan rolled up to the lake house. From inside the car, Katie felt the warmth of its interior and the glow of its dashboard like a small miracle.

"Quickly," Adrian whispered, opening the rear door. "Let's get you all inside where it's warm."

Bundled in robes and clutching their phones for light, Milly, Katie, and the rest tumbled into the backseat. Aria whispered, "I thought we'd be snowed in—or worse, victims in a horror movie."

Alina bumped her shoulder. "Thanks for that image." Laughter rippled through the cramped car as it pulled away, the house's dark silhouette fading in the taillights.

Katie leaned her head against the window, watching the moonlit lake flash past. For a moment, she felt tears of relief prick in her eyes. Milly reached over and squeezed her hand.

⸻

Safe at the Villa

The sedan eased up a winding drive and came to a stop at Yannis's villa. Warm light spilled from the grand windows, and the hum of distant music pulsed like a heartbeat. Inside, the bachelor party had paused—guests half‑dressed, in tux jackets over jeans, curious as the car doors opened, and the girls filed out.

Yiannis met them in the foyer, crisp in a dark shirt and trousers. He didn't smile; he simply crossed to Milly and gathered her into a quick hug. "Are you all right?"

Milly nodded, voice wobbling with gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

He turned to Milly, willing himself not to look at Katie. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Milly forced a smile. "You got us here safe."

He nodded, then addressed the waiting staff. "Warm towels for them, please. And hot chocolate—extra whipped cream." His tone left no room for discussion.

Adrian ushered the girls toward a glowing lounge off the foyer. Plush sofas, flickering fireplaces, and trays of steaming mugs awaited. The bachelor party guests hovered curiously at the edge of the room; Yannis raised a hand.

"Give them space," he instructed gently. "They've had a scare."

Obediently, the men drifted back to the terrace bar, leaving Milly and her friends cocooned in soft light and comfort.

⸻

Revival & Revelry

Katie accepted the hot chocolate with trembling hands, the warmth seeping through her gloves of relief. She sank into a velvet armchair as Milly draped a cashmere blanket around her shoulders.

One by one, the girls inhaled the rich cocoa and exhaled laughter.

"What a night," Wendy murmured, tracing patterns on the frothy surface of her mug.

Aria grinned, toasting with her cup. "To Yiannis, the unexpected rescuer."

Milly rose, cradling her drink. "And to friendship," she added, turning to Katie. "No fuse—or darkness—can ever break our bond."

Katie met her eyes and smiled. "Nor the sparks that follow us."

In the warm glow of the villa's lounge, with laughter echoing and mugs clinking, the group found safety, comfort, and an unexpected reminder: even in the darkest moments, they were never truly alone.

Sweet Mischief

The warm glow of lanterns and tiki torches danced off the white stucco walls as the combined party of groomsmen and bridesmaids spilled onto the villa's terrace. A DJ booth had been set up near the outdoor bar, bass thumping through the summer air. Somewhere between last night's rescue and now, the boundary between "his" party and "her" weekend had dissolved entirely.

Milly led the ladies down the stone steps, robes and silk slips traded for cocktail dresses and heels. Katie brushed a lock of hair from her face, her eyes bright as she spotted Adrian manning the bar cart. Louisa swooped in, whispering, "Let's get you a martini, Kate," and Hannah followed, arms full of snacks.

On the dance floor, Aria and Alina were already mid‑routine, arms linked, belting out Beyoncé lyrics. Andrea and Wendy challenged Yiannis's groomsmen to a limbo contest, the bar cart now serving as makeshift obstinate bar. Milly found herself swaying to the beat with a group of men studiously ignoring that her fiancé was only feet away.

Katie detached from her friends for a moment, weaving through the laughing crowd. She paused by the dessert table where an array of petits fours, fruit tarts, and Milly's famous sea‑salt brownies beckoned. She'd meant to skip sweets—hangover recovery diet and all—but the plate looked innocent enough. One brownie, she promised herself.