Pov Author
The mansion stood silent under the weight of midnight.
Not the peaceful kind of silence—but the kind that felt watched. Held. Waiting.
A shadow slipped past the iron gates.
The guards? Distracted. Paid off. Or simply careless.
The figure moved with purpose—swift, calculated. A black-clad silhouette hugging the edges of the marble walls, avoiding the dim pools of light spilling from antique lanterns. Every step was measured. Every breath controlled.
Inside, the air was colder.
Arin's mother slept in her wing, unaware. The soft ticking of a distant clock echoed like a countdown.
The intruder didn't hesitate.
They knew exactly where they were going.
The study.
Arin's father's sanctuary.
The door creaked open just slightly—enough to slip through. The room smelled of old wood, leather, and something heavier… something ancient.
And there it was.
At the center.
Encased in glass.
The Legend of Shou Feng.
The book didn't look ordinary. It wasn't just old—it felt alive. The cover was dark, almost breathing under the low light, engraved with symbols that seemed to shift when stared at too long.
The figure approached slowly.
For the first time… hesitation.
Then a gloved hand reached out.
The glass case clicked.
Unlocked.
Too easy.
That was wrong.
But greed—or desperation—won.
The lid lifted with a soft hiss.
The air changed.
Colder.
Sharper.
The moment the book was touched—
A faint whisper echoed through the room.
Not a sound.
A feeling.
Like something had just awakened.
The intruder froze.
Then quickly—too quickly—grabbed the book and shut the case.
The whisper stopped.
Silence again.
But not the same silence.
This one felt… aware.
The figure turned and disappeared into the night.
And somewhere deep within the mansion—
Something had begun.
---
Arin's car rolled to a stop outside Anna's mansion.
The headlights dimmed, casting long shadows across the gates.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then—
"Go in," Arin said softly, his voice carrying that rare gentleness he never showed the world.
Anna nodded, but her fingers lingered on the door handle.
She didn't want to leave.
Not tonight.
Not when everything felt so fragile.
She stepped out anyway.
The night air hit her, cold against her skin.
And instinctively—
She turned back.
Her breath caught.
Her mother stood at the entrance.
Still.
Watching.
Not angry.
Not shouting.
Worse.
Silent.
Behind her—Lily.
Head lowered. Eyes avoiding hers.
Something was wrong.
Deeply wrong.
Anna felt it before a single word was spoken.
---
The door slammed shut behind her.
"WHAT are you doing with him?"
The force of her mother's voice hit harder than any physical blow.
Anna barely had time to react before she was grabbed and shoved into her room.
She stumbled, nearly falling.
"Mama—it's not—"
"WHORING around with some guy?!" her mother screamed.
The word sliced through the air.
Anna's chest tightened. "No! Mama, it's not like that—"
"Then what is it like?!" she snapped, her voice rising, shaking.
Anna swallowed.
Her hands trembled.
But her voice didn't.
"I love him."
The slap came fast.
Sharp.
Her head snapped to the side, the sting spreading across her cheek like fire.
Lily gasped from the doorway.
Anna's vision blurred—but she didn't cry.
Not yet.
Her mother's voice dropped, colder now. More dangerous.
"Do you want us to die?"
The words hit harder than the slap.
Anna froze.
"What…?"
"Is that what you want?" her mother continued, stepping closer. "Because that's exactly what will happen."
"No—ma…ma…" Anna's voice broke. "I would never—"
"Then stop this!" she snapped.
Lily stepped forward, her voice small but steady. "They're in love."
Their mother turned sharply toward her.
"This isn't about love."
The room felt suffocating now.
"This is about surviving."
Lily's brows furrowed, anger flickering through her fear. "Then why did you even marry him?"
Silence.
A heavy, painful silence.
Then—
"Because I had to," their mother said, quieter now—but no less intense. "Because raising two daughters alone isn't a fairy tale, Lily. Because the world doesn't care if you're strong or in love or broken."
Her voice cracked—but only slightly.
"Do you know what happens when a husband abandons you?"
Anna shook her head, tears finally slipping free.
"He didn't abandon us," she whispered.
Her mother turned sharply.
"Oh really?" she said bitterly. "Have you seen him here?"
Anna had no answer.
Lily spoke instead, desperation in her tone. "Mama… I love Alex. Anna loves Arin. What's wrong with that? Just… let me marry Alex instead—"
"Alex doesn't want to marry you!" her mother snapped.
The words hit Lily like a physical blow.
Anna stepped forward. "I'll convince him—"
"Oh yeah?" her mother cut in sharply. "And what happens when he tells your father?"
"Stepfather," Anna corrected weakly.
"It doesn't matter!" her mother shouted. "Father is father. That's it!"
Her voice shook now—not with anger.
With fear.
"He will destroy us."
The room went still.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Then—
"From now on," her mother said, her voice turning cold again, controlled… final. "You are not going out."
Anna blinked.
"What?"
"You are grounded. Until your engagement with Alex is finalized."
Anna's heart dropped.
"No… mama, you can't—"
"Watch me."
The finality in her tone crushed whatever hope was left.
Anna stood there, trembling, her world collapsing around her.
And for the first time—
Love didn't feel powerful.
It felt dangerous.
---
The next night roared with chaos.
Engines screamed.
Tires burned.
The underground racing strip was alive—flashing lights, shouting crowds, adrenaline thick in the air.
Arin stepped out of his car, a grin tugging at his lips as people surrounded him.
Cheers.
High-fives.
Laughter.
He had won.
Again.
"Bro, you're insane!" one of his friends shouted, slapping his back.
Arin smirked, brushing it off like it was nothing.
But his eyes—
They kept drifting to his phone.
No messages.
No calls.
Nothing.
His jaw tightened.
"Still no reply?" another friend teased.
Arin didn't answer.
Because the silence was starting to feel wrong.
Then—
A voice near him dropped to a whisper.
"Arin…"
He turned.
And froze.
Lily stood there.
Small.
Fragile.
Like she didn't belong in this loud, reckless world.
She wore a soft pink frock, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.
Her eyes looked… lost.
Arin walked toward her immediately, his expression shifting.
Serious now.
Alert.
He glanced behind her instinctively.
No Anna.
No sign of her.
His brows furrowed. "What's wrong?"
Lily hesitated.
Then told him everything.
Every word.
Every scream.
Every tear.
And with each sentence—
Arin's expression darkened.
The air around him changed.
The playful, cocky racer disappeared.
Replaced by something colder.
Sharper.
Dangerous.
"How is she?" he asked, his voice low.
Lily swallowed. "She hasn't eaten since morning. She's locked in her room."
Something snapped inside him.
"I think you should meet her," Lily added softly.
Arin nodded once. "I will."
He pulled out his phone. "She hasn't answered any of my calls."
Lily hesitated. "Mama took her phone."
Arin's grip tightened.
"Give me your phone," she said. "I'll give you my number. I'll keep you updated."
He handed it over without question.
Lily glanced at the screen—
And froze.
289 missed calls.
To Anna.
Her chest tightened.
Scrolling—
Messages.
Dozens.
No—hundreds.
All from him.
Where are you ?
Are you okay ?
Pick up.
Anna , please.
Her eyes softened.
She quickly typed her number, pretending not to see more.
Then handed it back.
Arin saved it immediately.
"Go sit in that car. I will drop you," he said, nodding toward a parked one. "I'll be back. Gotta say goodbye to the guys."
Lily nodded and walked away.
Halfway there—
It happened.
Two shadows.
Too fast.
A hand clamped over her mouth.
Another grabbed her legs.
Her scream was muffled.
Her body thrashed.
Panic exploded in her chest.
Arin's friends shouted.
"HEY!"
Arin turned.
And everything slowed.
Lily.
Struggling.
Being forced into a car.
His heart dropped.
Then—
It ignited.
"HEY!" he roared, already running.
But the car door slammed shut.
The engine roared.
And they sped off.
Arin didn't hesitate.
Not even for a second.
He ran straight to his car—
A Mercedes-AMG GT Black Series.
Engine screaming to life as he slammed the door shut.
His grip on the wheel was deadly.
Eyes locked ahead.
Focused.
Furious.
"They picked the wrong girl."
The car shot forward like a bullet.
And the night—
Was about to turn into a war.
---
To be continued…