---
Part 51
The Rosé mansion glowed softly against the night, warm light spilling from tall windows. Inside, the air smelled faintly of jasmine and fresh wood polish, a stark contrast to the chaos they had left behind.
Anna sat curled on the velvet couch in the living room, Ethan right beside her, his hand covering hers like an anchor. Kylie perched on the armrest, keeping her company with small talk, trying to steady the atmosphere. Nick stood near the window, silent, arms folded, watching the night as if daring it to try again.
After a while, Nick walked over, his usually sharp presence softened. He lowered himself to the couch beside Anna and, in a quiet attempt at comfort, placed a steady hand on her shoulder.
Anna's breath caught instantly. For a flash, her body froze. The memory of rough hands and unwanted grabs slammed into her, and she jerked slightly away, eyes wide.
Nick's hand retreated immediately. "Hey," he said softly, more careful than he'd ever been. "It's me. You're safe."
Ethan leaned closer, concern flickering in his eyes. "Anna, you okay?"
Anna swallowed, her voice trembling but honest. "I—I know it's you, Nick. But for a second… it felt like—" She stopped, pressing her palm against her forehead.
Kylie reached out and slipped a glass of water into Anna's hands. "Don't explain. No one here thinks you're weak."
The silence that followed was heavy but not crushing—more like a blanket waiting to be shifted.
Nick cleared his throat. "Alright. Serious question." His voice dropped to a dry, almost teasing tone. "Do we need to hire a 24/7 guard squad just for you three now? Because I think Carter security is already getting sick of me."
Kylie rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. "I mean, considering tonight, maybe yes."
Ethan finally smirked, brushing a strand of hair from Anna's cheek. "I'd rather not share her protection duty, actually."
Anna let out a small laugh, thin but real. "Overprotective much?"
"Absolutely," Ethan said without hesitation, and Nick's lips twitched in amusement.
The heaviness in Anna's chest loosened. The room didn't feel like a prison of fear anymore—it felt like a circle, imperfect but steady.
She leaned back against the couch, this time without flinching, and whispered, "Thank you. For staying."
Nick glanced at her, his voice low but firm. "We're not going anywhere."
And just like that, the night shifted—still carrying its scars, but laced with enough warmth that Anna, for the first time since it happened, believed she'd be okay.
---