How had she realized her mother hadn't come? When she found herself standing in front of the door. She tried to loosen her stiff neck, but it was in vain. Every part of her ached as though even the insides of her bones were sore. When she tried to stand up with a groan, her hand hit the cold surface of her phone. The memory of the message she had sent made her eyes close in despair and regret, but it was too late now, and the phone had most likely died from the screen being left on all night. She licked her lips, trying to ease the tension and dryness caused by her tears, but shaking her head, she realized only a hot shower would help. With great effort, she managed to stand up.

Stella had just turned 17, thanks to her mother enrolling her in school early. Most of her friends were already 18 and working. Despite this, she felt so incomplete and worn out in both body and mind that if someone asked her age now, she'd have said at least forty. Feeling the dryness in her throat, she was about to head toward the kitchen, but changed her mind and entered the bathroom next to her bedroom instead. Technically, this bathroom could be called hers. Since her mother used the one in her own room, and no one ever visited anyway, two bathrooms were more than enough for just the two of them.

She swiftly removed the skirt she now considered cursed and shed the rest of her clothes as she hurried into the shower. The regret of not plugging in her phone for charging gnawed at her as she stood under the water, realizing she had only the duration of the shower to think about it. Though she tried to be quick, her body hurt so much that even Brandon tugging her arm yesterday had left a small bruise. But what terrified her more were the bruises Axel had left. Her eyes widened in horror as her fingers brushed over her lips. Even though no one else was home, she didn't want to hear her own voice at the moment. The bruises on her arm were in the exact shape of a hand, and Stella felt a throbbing pain in her head. He hit my head on the wall. As this memory surfaced, she closed her eyes, trying to push back the tears that were ready to spill, but this time, she couldn't hold back the sob that escaped her lips.

There were many people who lived their lives in fear, and Stella didn't know how she would cope with being one of them now. The water pressure was so harsh that it hurt her skin, and she quickly stepped out of the shower, or at least what she thought was quickly, though her slow movements suggested otherwise. Without bothering to wrap herself in a bathrobe, she tied up her hair and hurried to her room to put on her pajama shorts and a tank top with spaghetti straps.

She was definitely late for school, but she couldn't care less at this moment. Remembering another responsibility, she left the room just as quickly to grab her phone and plug it in. Without waiting for it to charge a little, she returned to the bathroom to dry her hair. The whirring of the hairdryer drowned out more than just the frustrated sighs caused by her troubled mind. While her phone powered on, announcing a flood of anxious notifications, Stella had already finished drying her hair and, feeling a slight chill, ignored her phone for a bit longer to grab a hoodie from her room.

"Stella!" She had just pulled her arms through the oversized hoodie when a loud knock on the door and a male voice calling her name made her freeze in place. It took her longer than she expected to recognize the voice, and, ignoring her bare feet, she rushed toward the front door. She didn't know how she hadn't tired from all the locks, but Brandon had already grown impatient as he stood outside, glaring at the jacket he had found in the yard, the one he had given Stella last night. His furrowed brows only deepened his irritation. When the door finally opened, revealing Stella's pale face, he realized his worries hadn't been misplaced, and his irritation grew.

"Why didn't you answer my calls? Where have you been?!" Even though Stella turned her head toward her phone, it was too late now. She opened the door a bit wider to let Brandon in, and with an exasperated sigh, he stepped inside. He was restless, and clearly tense, Stella thought. Just like when he had seen me by the ring, or in that underground fight club.

"My phone died." The lack of emotion in her voice didn't escape Brandon's notice. He stepped in front of her, grasping her chin and forcing her to lift her head to meet his eyes.

"What happened? What was that message about, Stella? What do you mean I couldn't protect you?"

"I mean just that. You couldn't protect me." Brandon was on the verge of losing it, his eyes flicking around the room as if looking for something to vent his frustration on, but it was futile. Unless there was a punching bag around, nothing else would do the job. When he turned back to take a closer look at Stella, the scent of her fresh shower hit him, and it dawned on him. In that moment, he realized how quickly he had learned to read Stella in such a short time. But without letting it show, he conducted a quick assessment. As much as her pale appearance captured all his attention, Brandon was well aware that the beauty standing before him wasn't something easily dismissed. From the moment he first laid eyes on Stella, he had been overwhelmed with an inexplicable desire to protect her, and the rapid beating of his heart was a topic for another day. As for the fear and worry he felt now, it was as if in the past three weeks with Stella, he had experienced more firsts than he ever had, making him far more unbalanced than usual.

Stella's beauty was what first caught your eye—she was too beautiful to ignore, like a fairy princess, perfect. And the more you got to know her, the harder it was not to be enchanted. Stella was a girl of impossibilities. Her smile was like a portal to another dimension, her scent a different universe altogether. Brandon felt his head spinning because of her, and he was trying his best to keep his distance. Yet, to play the part of a loving boyfriend, at least once, he had to pull her close, embracing her, or planting kisses on her shoulder, forehead, cheek, or hair—places that weren't her lips, per Stella's rules, and weren't too sensitive either. To think someone could do such things against their will was absurd. What Brandon found difficult was pulling away afterward and pretending he didn't feel anything. Admitting that was not something he was ready for yet. Clearing his throat, he looked into Stella's eyes once more, noticing the tears waiting to fall, and without thinking, he stepped closer, grabbing her by the arms. What he didn't expect, though, was for Stella to flinch and let out a whimper. The sound of her pained gasp was the last thing he expected.

"What?"

Brandon flinched and quickly withdrew his hands from her, and as Stella bowed her head, she allowed her tears to flow. "I didn't accept your offer because I wanted you to be my personal protector, Brandon." When she lifted her head and looked at him through her tears, filled with both pain and anger, Brandon was once again stunned. He was frustrated by his inability to find the right response around Stella, but right now, he didn't have the strength to assert himself. "I accepted your offer because, since childhood, every time my mother got a new assignment and we moved from place to place, I faced bullying and harassment, and I wanted to make sure I wouldn't encounter the same thing here! You failed to protect me! That bastard followed me all the way to my house and harassed me! He cornered me, he came at me! If I hadn't been quick enough he would've..." She bit her lip, trying to stop her voice from faltering at the end, but a sob escaped. Her body started trembling and shaking under the weight of all the emotions she'd been suppressing. She couldn't stop the tears running down her face, but Brandon moved swiftly, grabbing her as she was about to collapse, and gently helped her sit on the comfortable cream-colored sofa in the living room. As Brandon knelt down, he was still unsure of what to do with his hands, though his bruised knuckles were in need of a good punch right now. Meanwhile, Stella reached for her hoodie, taking her time to remove it. Brandon was trying to figure out what she was about to do when he suddenly found himself staring at the bruises on her arms, forcing him to hold his breath.

"Who?" His voice had come out so raspy that for a moment she couldn't bring herself to even name the one who hurt her. Her vision was blurry, but she could sense Brandon's anger just by the intensity radiating from him, and it unsettled her. What pained her even more was that Brandon had truly tried to protect her, and they had made great progress over the last three weeks. Axel was a psychotic creep, that much was certain, and his actions were purely out of his own disgrace. She wasn't sure how much she could hold Brandon accountable for that, but there was no way she could defend a lowlife, dishonorable bastard like Axel either. Especially when she was this scared and shaken up, Axel could burn in hell for all she cared.

"Axel."

When Brandon's eyes met Stella's, she momentarily forgot about her own troubles, overtaken by concern. She thought she had witnessed his anger yesterday. How wrong she had been.

"He waited for me to leave." Stella nodded in agreement, but something inside her urged her to say a few soothing words to calm him down. Yet after the terrifying incident she had gone through yesterday, she didn't want to. As Brandon's fingers traced her skin, Stella struggled to suppress a sigh. Get a grip, girl! Just yesterday, she had called what happened to her terrifying, recoiling at the bruises left by one man's touch. And now, here she was, breathless from the touch of another man, even from the slightest contact. It wasn't the first time Brandon had taken her breath away, but all Stella could do was hope that this was just a fleeting attraction. Anything else was impossible.

As Brandon wet his lips and stood up, Stella followed him with her gaze. She couldn't say anything, but she knew how angry he was, so she understood she couldn't take her eyes off him. Stella knew that Brandon wasn't mad because she had been harmed, but because someone under his protection had been hurt. Brandon had made a promise, and because he hadn't kept that promise, it was tearing him apart. At least, that was Stella's interpretation of his anger. For Brandon, however, even if he couldn't admit it, it was Stella herself, and the fact that she had been hurt, that weighed on him. Lately, the idea of Stella being used against him was something he despised more than anything. Of course, people had learned that Brandon had a girlfriend, and after all this time, the discovery of his weak spot had brought joy to many. Now, Stella was in double danger—both because of her own allure and because of her association with Brandon.

Brandon, finding nothing more than a bag of frozen peas, accepted his fate and walked back to the living room where Stella was. Keeping his head clear was important not only for himself but also for Stella. The last thing he wanted was for her to witness how angry he was here, just after the terrifying events at the club yesterday. He couldn't prevent what had happened then, but today, now, he had to stay calm. Seeing Stella's message this morning had already rattled him, but seeing the bruises had utterly destroyed his peace of mind. When the cold compress touched her skin, Stella flinched, but this time, Brandon sat beside her, trying to provide some reassurance, though he didn't have the courage to look her in the eyes. He wasn't ready to face the disappointment and blame he knew he'd find there.

How many people in the world feel such powerful emotions for someone else? Or, how many times does it happen? Was this situation special, or was it Stella who was special? He didn't know, but there was one thing he was sure of: he was desperately trying not to wish for something that could never be. The feelings he couldn't control were making it hard for him to even tell day from night. Stella was everywhere—in every part of his life. While sleeping, while waking, and in every other moment of the day. And as pleasant as it might sound, for Brandon, it was a bitter pill to swallow. His father, his brother, and he hadn't come this far without struggle, and Brandon believed that all three of them were cursed when it came to women. His brother and father had gone through it, faced their curse, but Brandon had not yet allowed it to reach him. He had no intention of letting it. No matter what, no matter how much his feelings for Stella grew, Brandon was not going to ruin her life. He would stay silent, and in order to stop the curse from taking root, he would forget. If he could.

"Get ready for school. I'll wait for you here."

Stella shook her head and reached for the bag of frozen peas. Brandon shuddered at the brief contact between their skin but quickly masked it, though Stella, not being as skilled at hiding her feelings, fumbled awkwardly, causing the bag of peas to fall. "I'm not going today. I feel too tired." Brandon raised his eyebrows as he picked up the peas and turned his gaze to Stella. Normally, he wouldn't care less about school, but he didn't want to leave her alone here, though he knew he couldn't stay all day either. It would be better to have her within sight. As Stella sighed and looked at him, Brandon felt his tension ease, realizing how much her presence calmed him. This was too much—Stella's effect on him was growing stronger by the day. Brandon might describe himself as disciplined, but even he couldn't predict where this was going.

"How wise is it to be here alone? In a crowd at school, he won't dare approach until I deal with him." As this thought completed itself in his mind, Brandon reminded himself that as soon as he let go of Stella, he would take care of that bastard. His anger, no doubt triggered by Stella's presence, hadn't yet escaped him. He couldn't bear to witness her frightened state any longer. And, of course, he didn't want to be the cause of her fears either. There was an agreement between them, yes, but even if there wasn't, Brandon was determined to stand by Stella's every step and protect her no matter what.

As their gazes met again, Stella felt the same lump in her throat. The urge to lock her lips together grew within her, and she hesitated, trying not to focus on it. Was Brandon aware of how attractive and handsome he was? Was he conscious of how many girls chased after him, or how his talent earned the respect and approval of every man? Brandon was among those born to lead, just like my father. As his brows furrowed in confusion and his gaze shifted questioningly to Stella, he slowly reached out and gently touched the swollen spot on her head, but Stella flinched and groaned, causing him to withdraw his hand immediately. His eyes widened more than expected, and the flames of his anger flared up again, while Stella cursed her own sensitivity. Regardless of what she had gone through, her anemia and fragile body made every injury seem worse than it was. She had noticed the swelling while brushing her hair, and truth be told, the high-pressure water and the heat from the hairdryer hadn't helped, not to mention her aggressive hair-taming session. Naturally, Stella didn't have the chance to explain any of this, as Brandon's anger had already grown into something substantial, almost taking on a life of its own.

When Brandon leaned closer to her face, Stella was momentarily taken aback. She was wearing something very thin and short, which, although not entirely different from her usual attire, was still her nightwear! Even though Brandon seemed too angry to notice such details, the mere proximity of his face was enough to make her stomach flutter. Unaware of what Stella was feeling or thinking, Brandon approached to inspect the swelling, and as Stella tried to stand up and move away, Brandon pressed his hand on her leg, forcing her to stay seated. Her skin burned where his hand had touched, leaving an imprint like a seal. How had she been so late in realizing just how distracted Brandon was and how enraged he truly was right now? When he saw the source of the swelling and looked at Stella as if seeking confirmation, Stella hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded. And as if Axel had drawn the short straw, was clear that his death sentence would come from Brandon.

When he shot to his feet, Stella grabbed his arm and pleaded with him to stop, but Brandon didn't hear her. As he reached the exit, Stella, in a last desperate attempt, threw herself in front of the door. Brandon growled, ordering her to move, but she shook her head furiously, refusing. She wanted protection, to feel safe, yes, but she had no desire to be the cause of a murder. Just yesterday, the man in front of her had beaten someone to a pulp—why would he hold back now?

"Brandon, I'm fine right now," Stella said, trying to normalize the situation, which only fueled Brandon's rage further. He advanced toward her until their noses were nearly touching, speaking each word with deliberate intensity.

"As long as you're with me, no one can hurt you, not even me. What you've been through, the violence and harassment—don't normalize that and never, ever, let anyone to do so. Now move out of my way."

Stella shook her head quickly, causing her nose to brush against Brandon's. Both inhaled sharply at the contact, and Brandon quickly ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it with frustration. He had no idea how to control himself, how to calm down. Something needed to be broken, destroyed, and it had to happen right now—with that person. As he stared into Stella's terrified amber eyes, she gulped hard. Damn it. Her gaze always had the power to unnerve him, and it scared him to his core.

"Move, Stella." She gulped again, but this time she didn't back down, standing her ground. In response, Brandon swiftly but carefully wrapped his arms around her waist, ignoring her cries and protests as he pulled her away from the door. When Stella, in a final effort, jumped onto his back, Brandon grumbled, half-closing the door before turning his head to the side to look at the person clinging to him.

"Stop testing my patience! Get off."

Stella bit her lip and shook her head. Brandon shot her a sharp look. "Fine, you can come with me like this, then." It was a bluff, of course; he would never take her out in this outfit, but she was so stubborn that he had no choice but to maintain the act. He had just taken a step outside when Stella finally loosened her grip, freeing him from the chokehold. He sighed in relief as he took a deep breath, thankful she had finally let go of his neck. As Stella peeked out from behind the door, watching him cautiously, her gaze made Brandon feel something entirely different. He forced himself not to get too caught up in it, but what could he do? Stella was hypnotic, special, beautiful, captivating, and breathtaking.

"Brandon..."

Brandon didn't want to hear a word from her about Axel, but Stella gave him a sad look. Their gazes met once again, and this time Brandon sighed in defeat.

"Go inside and lock the door. Don't open it for anyone, understand?"

At first, Stella frowned, about to tell him not to give orders, or to ask if there was any reason she shouldn't understand, but the exhaustion weighed down her shoulders. Maybe jumping onto Brandon's back hadn't been the best idea. For now, she simply nodded in agreement, and Brandon felt a sense of relief wash over him. At least he could be somewhat certain that she was safe. As he briskly nodded and headed towards his motorcycle, Stella's voice stopped him again.

"The message... I wrote it in a moment of anger and sadness. It wasn't your fault."

He would've stayed to argue how right she was if he didn't have to go deal with Axel. But as it was, he could only nod in acknowledgment. After one final glance at Stella, he turned to his bike, but before he could reach it, he spun around to see Stella still standing in the doorway, staring back at him with a defiant look.

"Get inside, Stella."

He might make that mistake once, but never again.