"She's here," the man said as the car stopped before a grand, silent mansion.
Rosette felt the vehicle door open and the cool rush of air brush against her face. She couldn't tell where they were — only that the man guiding her had said they were at Dranred's house. But as soon as her feet touched the marble floor, something in the air made her uneasy.
When the man spoke again, his voice echoed faintly through what sounded like a spacious hall.
"Thank you, Melvin," said another voice — deep, commanding, and old.
Rosette froze. That wasn't Dranred's voice.
"Thank you for coming, hija," the man said warmly.
Rosette tightened her grip on her cane. She didn't answer. She had followed this stranger because he said Dranred had sent him — but this man was someone else entirely.
"Where's Red?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"I'm afraid I had to use my grandson's name to meet you," the man admitted, taking a step closer.
"Grandson?" Rosette whispered, confused.
Melvin, the man who brought her, spoke quietly. "Miss Rosette, this is Senator Alfonse Masterson — Dranred's grandfather."
The words struck her like a cold wave.
For a moment, everything around her fell away — replaced by echoes of gunfire, her mother's scream, the metallic scent of blood. She remembered the night her parents died, the way her mother's body fell lifeless beside her. The memories came crashing down so suddenly she thought she might faint.
Her knees weakened. Color drained from her face.
"Please, sit down," the senator said gently. "There are things I need to tell you — especially about Dranred."
When he reached out and touched her hand, a shiver shot up her arm. She recoiled at once, taking a step back.
"Don't be afraid," the old man said, though his voice carried a faint edge beneath the calm. "I only wish to talk."
But as he took another step closer, Rosette's body gave out. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor.
"Hija? Are you all right?" the senator asked, alarmed. He crouched, reaching for her arm.
Rosette pulled away, folding her arms tightly around herself. Her hands flew to her ears as if to block out the world, her body trembling uncontrollably.
"Miss Rosette, what's wrong?" Melvin asked, his voice rising in panic. He started to reach for her, but she let out a frightened cry, clutching herself tighter.
The senator turned sharply to his aide. "What's happening to her?"
Melvin shook his head helplessly. "I—I don't know, sir."
"Call Dranred!" the senator barked.
Melvin obeyed immediately, fumbling for his phone.
On the other end, Dranred answered with irritation. "Melvin? It's a miracle you're calling me. I'm in the middle of practice — make it quick."
"Sir," Melvin said carefully, "Rosette is here. At your grandfather's house."
There was silence — then Dranred's voice dropped, cold and dangerous.
"What did you just say?"
"I said—"
"If either of you lay a hand on her," Dranred cut in sharply, "you'll regret it."
He ended the call before Melvin could answer.
Gripping the wheel tightly, Dranred made a sharp U-turn. His pulse thundered in his ears as he floored the accelerator toward his grandfather's mansion. Whatever reason the old man had for bringing Rosette there, Dranred would not allow her to be hurt — not her, not again.
Dranred drove as if he could make the car fly. His phone kept buzzing—calls from Peter, from his coach—but he ignored them all. None of that mattered now. The only thing that mattered was reaching Rosette before his grandfather could do something to hurt her.
"Hold on, Rosette. I'm coming," he muttered, tightening his grip on the wheel as he sped toward the mansion.
Dranred nearly flew out of his car the moment he reached his grandfather's mansion.
He slammed the door shut and sprinted toward the entrance. Inside, he saw the senator and Melvin standing in the living room.
"Where's Rosette?" he demanded, his eyes scanning the room — until he saw her.
She was crouched near the doorway, arms wrapped tightly around herself, trembling.
"Rosette," Dranred breathed, his voice breaking. He rushed to her side and gently reached for her hand. "Hey, it's me. Are you okay?"
The moment his fingers brushed her skin, she flinched and tried to pull away. But he didn't let go.
"Hey, it's okay. It's me," he said softly.
Something in his tone made her pause. Her breathing hitched. Slowly, she lifted her head.
"Red? Is that you?"
"Yeah, it's me," he whispered. "I'm here now. You're safe."
Without another word, he pulled her into his arms. Rosette stiffened for a heartbeat, then melted against him, her trembling fading little by little.
In Dranred's embrace, the noise of the world seemed to fade away. His steady heartbeat, his warmth, his voice — they told her the one thing she needed to hear: she was safe now.
For a long moment, they stayed like that. When he finally felt her breathing steady, Dranred helped her to her feet, his arm still around her shoulders.
"Let's go," he said quietly.
Together, they turned toward the door — but before they could leave, his grandfather's voice cut through the silence.
"Don't be such a fool, young man," the old man said coldly.
Dranred's eyes sharpened, his jaw tightening as he met his grandfather's gaze—and then Melvin's.
"I only wanted to talk to her," the senator continued. "To make it clear that she and her siblings don't belong in your world."
Dranred glanced at Rosette. Her face was pale, her expression distant. He knew exactly what those words would do to her—especially now that she knew his grandfather had a hand in her parents' deaths.
Quietly, he took both of Rosette's hands and lifted them to her ears.
"You don't need to hear this," he murmured, his voice breaking.
Then he turned back to the senator.
"I told you before," he said, each word trembling with restrained fury, "don't you ever touch the people I care about. I don't care if you're my grandfather—if you hurt them, I'll never forgive you. Don't make me lose the last bit of respect I still have for you."
"How dare you!" Melvin snapped. "You can't talk to your grandfather like that!"
"Stay out of this!" Dranred barked, his voice echoing across the room. "If you or anyone else so much as approaches Rosette or anyone I value again, you'll answer to me personally."
He didn't wait for a reply. "Let's go," he said firmly, guiding Rosette toward the door. They left the mansion without looking back.
Outside, the air was heavy and cold. Dranred opened the car door and helped Rosette inside. She said nothing, her hands resting quietly in her lap. Even as he fastened her seatbelt, she didn't move.
Dranred started the engine and stared straight ahead, the tension still burning in his chest. Without a word, he drove them through the gates, leaving the mansion—and his grandfather—behind.