VILLA OF THORNS

THE ESCAPE

The moment the door shut behind Alessandro, Katie couldn't breathe. Her knees buckled. But Yannis was there, catching her before she hit the floor, arms locking around her like iron.

"You're okay," he whispered into her hair. "He's gone. You're safe now."

She buried her face in his chest and let the tears fall. Not because she was broken, but because finally—someone had fought for her. Without condition. Without judgment. Just... her.

"We have to go," she whispered after a moment. "Before he tells my father."

Yannis nodded, already pulling out his phone. "I have people waiting just outside the estate. No guards, no drama."

"How did you even get in here?" she asked, wiping at her cheeks.

He gave her a crooked, slightly cocky smile. "You forget—I built half the security software this place runs on."

Katie blinked. "You hacked my father's estate?"

He lifted a brow. "I liberated you."

She almost laughed.

Almost.

Instead, she took his hand and nodded. "Let's go."

⸻

They moved through the halls in silence, her slippers whispering against the polished marble. Yannis kept her tucked beside him, alert to every corner, every creak. When they reached the side terrace, a man dressed in black with an earpiece nodded once and opened a concealed door in the garden wall.

A sleek black SUV waited just beyond the hedges.

They climbed in without a word.

As they sped down the mountain road, Katie looked back at the estate—at the only life she'd ever known. The prison dressed up as privilege.

And she didn't feel regret.

Only relief.

⸻

Yannis's Villa – 3 Hours Later

The sea breeze hit her first. Salt, clean, real.

Then came the sound of waves. The moon shimmering on the private beach. Warm lights glowing from the villa's wide windows.

He brought her inside, straight to a room with floor-to-ceiling windows and a bed that looked like heaven.

"Shower," he said gently. "Take your time. I'll get you something to wear."

She turned to him, hesitating. "Thank you. For coming for me."

Yannis's expression softened. "I'll always come for you, Katie."

Her throat tightened. She nodded and slipped into the bathroom.

⸻

She emerged twenty minutes later in one of his shirts, damp hair curling around her face. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, arms resting on his knees, staring out the window—but he turned the second he heard her.

"You okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "For the first time in a while... yeah."

He stood.

Walked to her slowly.

And pulled her into his arms again like she was his favorite part of the world.

They didn't kiss.

Not yet.

But when she rested her head against his chest, she knew—

She wasn't running anymore.

She was finally home.

⸻

BACK HOME AT THE ARYGOS ESTATE

The knock at his study door was urgent . Too urgent. He already knew someone bad had happened.

Victor looked up from the bourbon he hadn't touched and met his butler's uneasy eyes.

"Sir..." the man began, his voice hesitant. "Miss Katherine—she's... she's gone."

There was silence.

A cold, dangerous kind of silence.

Victor stood slowly, placing the untouched glass down on the mahogany table with a deliberate clink.

"Gone," he repeated, calm and clear.

"Yes, sir. Her room was empty. No guards reported movement. The east wing's security system was... compromised."

The butler swallowed. "It appears Mr. Kyrkos was here. There are tire tracks leading from the south gardens. One of the gatehouse staff has gone missing abd two of the main guards are still unconscious."

Victor's hand curled into a fist so tight his knuckles turned white. "He broke in?"

"I believe it was... discreet," the butler offered, as if that would help.

"Discreet?" Victor roared, voice echoing off the bookshelves and antique stone. "He walked into my estate, stole my daughter, and not one of you incompetent bastards thought to raise the alarm?"

He swiped his arm across his desk—papers, pens, and the crystal decanter crashing to the ground.

Victor's breathing was heavy, sharp. His rage was no longer simmering—it was volcanic.

"I want eyes on every airstrip, every pier, every goddamn hotel in this country. Find her. Now."

"Yes, sir." The butler turned to leave.

"Wait." Victor's voice dropped dangerously. "Call the Castellanos family. Inform them that the engagement contract has not changed. She will marry Alessandro. I don't care if we have to drag her down the aisle in chains."

"Sir..." The butler hesitated. "Alessandro has already been informed. He... did not take the news well."

Victor's jaw clenched. "Good. Let the bastard handle it however he wants."

Then, quieter—colder:

"She was warned."

********

The moonlight spilled through the open windows, bathing the bedroom in silver. The sound of waves crashing just beyond the glass blurred the edges of reality, making it feel like they were the only two people left in the world.

Katie stood near the bed, his shirt still draped over her body, bare legs peeking out beneath the hem. Her hair, still damp from her shower, curled softly against her skin.

Yannis leaned against the doorframe, watching her like he was trying to memorize every inch of her. Like he still couldn't believe she was here.

Safe.

With him.

Their eyes met across the room, and something shifted. A silent current surged between them, heavy with everything they hadn't said, everything they couldn't take back—and everything they still wanted.

"Katie," he murmured, his voice rough. "If you want me to leave, say it now. Because if I come to you... I'm not going to stop."

She crossed the space between them with slow, deliberate steps. Her fingers reached for his, curling gently around his hand.

"I don't want you to stop," she whispered.

That was all he needed.

He crushed his lips to hers with a hunger that had been burning inside him for weeks—months, maybe even years. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, anchoring him to her.

The kiss deepened, softened, then ignited again. Their breath tangled. Their bodies pressed close. She was fire in his arms, and he was wind in hers—reckless, consuming, but careful not to burn her.

He lifted her, carried her to the bed like she was the most precious thing he'd ever touched. She wasn't afraid. Not with him. Not this time.

And when he undressed her—slowly, reverently—she let him see every part of her. Her softness. Her truth.

When he made love to her, it wasn't rushed. It wasn't clouded by lust or desperation. It was slow and devastatingly deep. Each touch was a promise. Each kiss, an apology for every moment she ever felt unloved.

And when he finally moved inside her, she clung to him like he was air. Like she'd waited her entire life for this moment.

"Yannis," she whispered.

"I've got you," he breathed against her lips. "I'm not going anywhere."

Time unraveled.

And in the stillness afterward, tangled in the sheets and his arms, Katie realized something terrifyingly beautiful.

She loved him.

Completely.

Irrevocably.

And maybe... he loved her too.