The house was silent again.
After the chaos, after the shouting, after Julian was dragged away, the relatives slowly left. One by one, the cousins hugged Amara, whispered comfort, and went home too.
By midnight, the estate felt empty.
Too empty.
Amara lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her room was dark, but her mind wasn't. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Julian's face. His hand on her mouth. His fingers crushing her wrist. Her own scream echoing in her ears.
She turned onto her side, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
But the tears came anyway.
Quiet at first. Then harder. Until she was shaking.
She pressed a hand over her mouth so no one would hear.
She didn't know Adrian was already outside her window.
Adrian
He couldn't sleep.
Not after what happened. Not after seeing her pinned against the wall. Not after hearing her scream.
He paced his room for almost an hour before he finally gave up and climbed out his window, landing silently on the balcony that connected to hers.
He didn't even know why he came.
He just… needed to see her.
Needed to make sure she was okay.
He approached her window quietly, expecting her to be asleep.
But when he looked inside—
He froze.
Amara was curled on her bed, shoulders shaking, her face buried in her hands.
She was crying.
Hard.
Adrian's chest tightened painfully.
Without thinking, he pushed the window open.
Amara gasped softly, startled, wiping her face quickly. "A-Adrian? What are you—"
He didn't let her finish.
He crossed the room in two steps and pulled her into his arms.
No hesitation. No distance. No walls.
Just him holding her.
Her breath hitched against his chest. "I—I'm fine. I just—"
"You're not fine," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "You're shaking."
She tried to pull back, but he held her gently, firmly. "Don't hide it."
Her fingers curled into his shirt.
And then she broke.
Her tears soaked into him as she cried harder, her body trembling. Adrian closed his eyes, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other wrapped around her waist.
"I was so scared," she whispered, voice cracking. "I thought— I thought he—"
"I know," Adrian murmured. "I know."
He held her tighter.
"You're safe now," he whispered into her hair. "I swear to you, Amara… no one will ever touch you again."
She clung to him like he was the only solid thing in the world.
Maybe he was.
Minutes passed. Or maybe it was longer. Neither of them counted.
Eventually, her breathing slowed. Her tears softened. She stayed in his arms, her cheek resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
"Why did you come?" she whispered.
Adrian hesitated.
Then, quietly—too quietly—
"Because I couldn't stay away."
Her heart skipped.
She looked up at him, eyes red, lashes wet. "Adrian…"
He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb, his touch gentle in a way that made her chest ache.
"I thought you were asleep," he said softly. "I just wanted to check on you."
"And when you saw me crying?"
His jaw tightened. "I couldn't stand it."
Silence settled between them — warm, fragile, dangerous.
Amara swallowed. "Adrian… I—"
He shook his head slightly, his forehead almost touching hers.
"Not tonight," he whispered. "You've been through enough."
But he didn't let go.
He didn't move away.
He just held her.
And for the first time in a long time, Amara felt safe enough to fall asleep — still wrapped in his arms, still pressed against his heartbeat, still held like she mattered.
Adrian stayed awake long after she drifted off.
Watching her. Protecting her. Fighting the feelings he could no longer deny.
And that was how the night ended — with her sleeping in his arms, and him realizing he never wanted to let her go.