The morning light spilled softly through the sheer white curtains, painting the room in a golden haze. The air was still, except for the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the gentle rhythm of River’s snoring.
Zayn stood by the door for a long moment, leaning against the frame, watching him.
River was sprawled across the bed like a starfish, half-covered by the blanket that had somehow tangled around his legs. His pajama shirt was buttoned wrong—two buttons off—and his hair was a chaotic masterpiece, curling over his face like he’d wrestled with his pillow all night and lost. His lips were parted slightly, soft snores escaping now and then.
Zayn chuckled quietly. The sight was almost… cute.
As he stepped closer, memories from the night before flickered through his mind like a slideshow he couldn’t pause—River’s flushed face under the flashing lights, the teasing smile during that dance, the sound of the crowd cheering, the warmth of River’s head resting on his shoulder beneath the stars.
And then the drive home, River mumbling half-coherent things about “the stars having feelings too” and “Zayn being his hero.”
Zayn shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips.
He reached the edge of the bed and crouched down, his eyes soft as they traced River’s sleeping face. For a moment, he just watched—the even rise and fall of his chest, the faint pink of his lips, the peacefulness that he rarely showed when awake.
Without thinking, Zayn reached out and gently brushed the messy hair from River’s face. The boy shifted slightly, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “pancakes,” but didn’t wake up.
Zayn leaned closer, his heart thudding a little too loudly for his liking. His eyes lingered on River’s face—on the small details he hadn’t noticed before. The faint beauty mark near his ear. The way his eyelashes curled upward. The soft puff of his breath hitting Zayn’s skin, warm and steady.
What the hell are you doing? Zayn thought, but his body refused to move.
He leaned in closer. Just a little closer.
River’s breath grew shallow, his lips parted slightly, and Zayn’s heart went into overdrive. His face was mere inches away when—
River’s eyes suddenly flung open.
For a full three seconds, both of them froze.
Zayn’s eyes widened. River’s widened even more.
They just stared—neither breathing, neither blinking. The silence was so thick it was almost comical.
And then—
“AHHHH!”
“AHHHHHH!”
Their synchronized screams filled the room. River scrambled backward so fast he nearly fell off the bed, grabbing a pillow like it was a weapon. Zayn stumbled to his feet, his hands raised like he was caught stealing.
“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?!” River shouted, pointing a shaking finger at him, his bed hair flopping dramatically.
Zayn’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed,
“I—uh—I don’t know! Maybe I wanted to check if you were still breathing!”
“WHY WOULD I NOT BE BREATHING?!” River demanded, glaring at him through narrowed eyes.
“I—uh—because you were too quiet?” Zayn stammered, running a hand through his hair, trying to hide his grin.
River gasped, scandalized.
“You were checking if I was still breathing?!” His tone was dripping with mock horror. “Oh my God, you wanted to kill me in my sleep, didn’t you? So you wouldn’t have to pay me!”
Zayn blinked, then burst into laughter.
“What—River, seriously?”
River pointed at him with the pillow like it was a holy relic.
“I swear, Zayn, if I die mysteriously, I’m coming back as a ghost and haunting your ass every single night until you pay me!”
Zayn laughed harder, trying to speak between gasps.
“You’re—unbelievable.”
“You say that like it’s an insult!” River snapped, clutching the pillow to his chest like a dramatic movie heroine.
Zayn finally calmed down, still smiling.
“Do you even remember what happened last night?”
River froze. His expression faltered.
“…I—uh…”
Zayn tilted his head.
“No?”
River frowned, trying to think, but his face twisted in pain. He groaned and grabbed the side of his head.
“Ow, ow, ow—what the hell—my head feels like someone’s hammering nails into it!”
Zayn crossed his arms, grinning.
“There it is—his majesty’s hangover.”
River shot him a tired glare through one eye.
“I remember… bits and pieces,” he muttered. “And then… and then—oh my God.” His eyes widened. “Did I—did I actually—”
He froze mid-sentence, then suddenly buried his face into the pillow and screamed.
Zayn flinched, startled.
“What the—”
“OH MY GOD IT’S EMBARRASSING!” River’s muffled voice echoed from inside the pillow. “I gave you a LAP DANCE, didn’t I?! IN FRONT OF EVERYONE!”
Zayn couldn’t hold it in anymore. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt.
“You did,” he managed between wheezes. “And you nearly broke the chair, by the way.”
River groaned louder, kicking his legs like a dying fish.
“Noooo! I can’t live anymore!”
“Relax,” Zayn said, still chuckling as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. But… you might want to apologize to Damian and Liana. Just in case.”
River peeked from behind the pillow, looking utterly defeated.
“They were there too?”
“Oh, yeah,” Zayn said, grinning. “Front row seats.”
River let out a long, dramatic groan, clutching the pillow tighter.
“I hate my life.”
Zayn laughed again, then stood up.
“Come on, drama queen. Take a shower and I’ll get you something for that hangover.”
River peeked up again.
“Zayn?”
“Yeah?”
River squinted suspiciously.
“If you ever try to check if I’m breathing again, I swear I’ll tape your mouth shut while you sleep.”
Zayn smirked.
“Noted.”
River grabbed a towel from the chair, standing up slowly and wobbling slightly. His hair stuck up in every direction, and his steps were unsteady as he made his way to the bathroom.
As he reached the door, he turned back, groaning comedically,
“My head feels like it’s being used as a drum. I swear, if the water’s cold, I’m suing this resort.”
Zayn chuckled.
“You’re not even paying for the room.”
“Then I’m suing you!” River declared before disappearing into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him with a dramatic thud.
Zayn smiled to himself, shaking his head as he heard the faint sound of water running.
He leaned back on the bed, sighing softly.
“Unbelievable,” he murmured with a grin. “Absolutely unbelievable.”
But deep down, he couldn’t deny it—he didn’t mind it one bit.
***
The bathroom was filled with steam, warm and hazy, wrapping around River like a soft blanket as the water poured down his shoulders. He tilted his head back, eyes closed, humming off-key but with full confidence. His wet hair clung to his forehead, and he playfully flicked it back, pretending he was in some dramatic music video.
“🎵 I’m too sexy for my shirt… too sexy for my—ow, hot, hot! 🎵” he yelped as the water suddenly turned too warm, then giggled to himself. “This is my concert, people! Thank you, good night!”
He twirled his hips, striking a ridiculous pose as the water cascaded down his back.
Then, quietly, the bathroom door creaked open.
Zayn peeked his head in, ready to say something casual—maybe even teasing—but the words got stuck in his throat the instant he saw the scene before him. River. Naked. Steam curling around him, water gliding down the curve of his back and the dip of his waist. He wasn’t even facing him, and yet—Zayn froze. Completely. His hand still on the doorknob, his expression blank, eyes wide.
He tried to look away, but his brain refused to cooperate. He just stood there, like a deer caught in headlights.
Meanwhile, River, blissfully unaware of the silent witness, opened his eyes and glanced toward the fogged mirror in front of him. He froze. For a second, he thought his imagination had conjured Zayn’s face. He blinked once. Twice. Then wiped the steam with his hand.
Nope. That was definitely Zayn.
River’s eyes widened.
He turned—slowly, dramatically—and came face-to-face with Zayn standing there like a statue.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!” River screamed, instantly covering his chest with both hands—then realized, “Wait, I don’t even have boobs!” and quickly covered his lower half instead. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”
Zayn flinched, blinking rapidly as his face went red.
“I—I—I just—uh—I came to ask if you wanted breakfast in the room or—uh—downstairs with everyone.”
“WITH EVERYONE?!” River shrieked. “You broke into my shower to ask me if I wanted breakfast?!”
Zayn tried to look away but accidentally looked right back at him again.
“I didn’t break in—the door was open—and you—you were just—uh—naked.”
“NO KIDDING, SHERLOCK!” River yelled, scooping up a handful of water and flinging it toward him.
Zayn dodged, getting splashed anyway.
“Hey! Stop attacking me! I’m leaving!”
“GET OUT!” River screamed.
“OKAY, OKAY, I’M GONE!” Zayn backed out quickly, closing the door behind him—only for it to crack open again two seconds later.
River’s eyes went wide.
“DON’T YOU DARE COME BACK IN HERE!”
Zayn poked his head through the small opening, laughing.
“You know, you should’ve locked the door.”
River pointed at him furiously, one hand still covering his crotch.
“WHY ARE YOU STILL LOOKING?!”
Zayn raised an eyebrow and said dramatically,
“Technically, River, we’re both men. We share the same anatomy. Want to get even? I can show you mine—” He stepped halfway into the bathroom, unbuckling his belt with theatrical flair.
River screamed.
“NO! I DON’T WANNA SEE YOUR JUNK! KEEP YOUR—YOUR THINGY TO YOURSELF!”
Zayn snorted with laughter, shoulders shaking.
“Are you sure? I could join you in the shower; save water, save the planet—”
“GET OUT!” River shrieked again, waving a loofah like a weapon.
“Alright, alright, I’m going,” Zayn said between laughs, pointing toward the door. “I’ll be out there if you survive the trauma.”
The door finally closed behind him.
River stood frozen, dripping, glaring at the door. Then he dramatically clutched his towel tighter, his lip trembling as he groaned,
“I feel so molested!” He stomped his foot on the wet tiles and added with an exaggerated whine, “My innocence! My poor eyes! I can’t unsee his stupid face!”
He sniffled, pouted, then muttered to himself,
“I’m suing him. I don’t know how or for what, but I’m suing him.”
Outside the door, Zayn’s laugh echoed faintly down the hallway, making River throw a sponge at the door before yelling,
“AND STOP LAUGHING!”
The whole scene could’ve been straight out of a chaotic romantic comedy—but for Zayn, behind that laugh, there was a grin he couldn’t quite hide. Because River—dramatic, furious, embarrassed River—was adorable.
***
The dining room was already buzzing with chatter and the soft clinking of cutlery when Zayn and River finally appeared. The scent of freshly baked bread and scrambled eggs hung thick in the air, mingling with the faint sound of laughter from the far end of the long mahogany table.
River, dressed casually in a pale blue shirt and soft grey trousers, smiled politely as they approached. Zayn, walking beside him in a neatly pressed white shirt, greeted everyone with that calm, composed voice of his.
“Good morning, everyone,” he said smoothly. “Sorry we’re late. Had a bit of a slow start.”
Leonardo looked up from his plate, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“No worries. Join us.”
They took their seats, River sitting beside Zayn, still trying to shake off the remnants of embarrassment from that morning’s bathroom disaster. He reached for a glass of orange juice, trying to appear casual.
But the moment he did, Veronica began clapping slowly. The sound sliced through the light conversation like a whip.
Everyone turned.
Veronica grinned widely, her red nails glinting under the chandelier.
“Well, well, well… look who finally decided to join us!” she exclaimed. “The man of the moment!”
River blinked, confused.
“Uh… good morning?” He smiled awkwardly, glancing around. “Did I miss something?”
Veronica let out a laugh that was far too loud for the breakfast table.
“Oh, don’t be modest now,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “We’re just celebrating the new celebrity of the house. You’re going viral, sweetheart!”
River frowned.
“Viral? What are you talking about?”
She leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee with exaggerated grace.
“Oh, don’t play innocent. The video from last night? The one where you were dancing like some kind of… performer?” She laughed again, her tone dripping with mockery. “I mean, wow. You really gave the guests a show. Who knew you were so… shamelessly talented?”
River’s stomach dropped. A cold, prickling sensation crept up his neck.
“What video?” he asked quietly.
Veronica smirked, glancing at her brother, Leonardo.
“You saw it, didn’t you?” she said sweetly. “I swear, I thought he was a professional dancer. Dancing like a whore in front of everyone. Where did you learn that, River? A strip club?”
“Aunt,” Zayn said flatly, his jaw tightening, “enough.”
But she wasn’t done. Her voice rose, sharp and venomous.
“Oh, and did you all hear?” She turned her gaze on the rest of the table. “Apparently, he was also making out with some guy in the men’s bathroom. Now, tell me—what kind of cheap man behaves like that?”
The table went dead silent.
River stared down at his plate, his face burning, his throat tightening as if someone had tied a knot in it. For the first time, he couldn’t think of a single word to say.
Zayn’s chair scraped harshly against the floor as he turned to her, eyes blazing.
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he snapped. “So keep your mouth shut.”
Veronica arched a brow, feigning innocence.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Zayn said, his tone deadly calm. “You weren’t there. You don’t know what happened. So maybe you shouldn’t judge him. And what’s wrong with giving his man a lap dance, anyway? We were having fun. We’re dating. Big deal.”
That sent a ripple of shock around the table. Veronica froze mid-sip, lowering her cup slowly. “Wait,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Are you defending him?”
Zayn leaned back in his chair.
“I’m not just defending him. I’m telling you to shut up about things you don’t understand.”
Veronica scoffed.
“Oh, really? And what about him making out in the bathroom with a stranger? Is that your idea of ‘fun,’ too?”
Before Zayn could respond, Damian spoke up, his voice cutting through the tension.
“That’s not what happened. Someone tried to take advantage of River. And instead of being decent enough to sympathize with him, you’re tearing him down. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Veronica’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Excuse me? Are you seriously all defending him right now?”
Elena, who had been quietly sipping her tea, set her cup down. Her voice was calm but sharp as glass.
“Yes, we are. Because unlike you, we actually think before we speak. And we have hearts.”
Veronica’s mouth fell open.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Elena’s eyes narrowed.
“It means if it had been Adrian in that situation, would you still be running your mouth? Or would you suddenly grow a conscience?”
“Adrian is smart enough to know right from wrong,” Veronica said coldly.
Leonardo chuckled under his breath, slicing into his toast.
“Ah. A quality he clearly didn’t inherit from you,” he murmured. “And that, I’m proud of.”
The color drained from Veronica’s face.
“Excuse me?”
Leonardo looked up, his gaze sharp.
“You heard me. Just because you got knocked up by some idiot because you were careless doesn’t mean everyone else will.”
The air froze. A fork clinked on a plate.
Veronica’s lips trembled as she turned toward River, her voice quivering with rage.
“You—”
Leonardo ignored her and turned to River instead.
“You alright?”
River nodded weakly.
“I’m… I’m fine. I’m sorry. I should’ve been more careful. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
Liana leaned forward, smiling softly.
“You don’t have to apologize, River. Honestly, you made the party livelier. We all had fun. It’s not your fault that some people have outdated opinions.”
Veronica’s head snapped toward her.
“Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to?”
Liana shrugged.
“Just saying the truth. Not everyone’s stuck in the 1800s.”
Veronica gasped.
“You’re not even married yet and you’re already acting like you’re part of this family? Let me remind you, sweetheart—anything can happen in the next two days.”
Damian slammed his hand on the table, his voice low and furious.
“The only thing that’s gonna happen is me walking down that aisle with Liana. Rain or sun, nothing changes that. So maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut.”
Veronica stood up, glaring.
“I can’t believe the disrespect in this house!”
Elena smirked faintly.
“Just because you’re single and bitter doesn’t mean everyone else has to join you in misery.”
That did it. Veronica turned to her brother.
“Leonardo! Are you seriously going to sit there and let them talk to me like this?!”
Leonardo didn’t even look up. He buttered his toast calmly.
“I’m eating.”
“Unbelievable!” Veronica hissed, slamming her hands on the table. “You can all go to hell!”
“Language,” Leonardo said mildly, still chewing.
“Fuck all of you!” she snapped before storming out, her heels clacking furiously against the tiles.
Harry, who had been silent the entire time, threw down his napkin and ran after her.
The room fell silent again.
Then Leonardo looked up, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Well… don’t let her ruin your appetites. Eat.”
A few chuckles escaped around the table.
Zayn leaned closer to River, placing a hand under the table to gently squeeze his thigh. River turned to look at him, startled, but the warmth in Zayn’s eyes melted some of the tension in his chest.
Zayn smiled faintly.
“You did nothing wrong,” he whispered.
River managed a small smile back, though his heart still raced from everything that had just happened.
The breakfast continued, but under the laughter and chatter, there was still a lingering heaviness—like a storm that had passed but left the scent of rain behind.
***
Veronica stormed into her room like a thundercloud about to burst. Her heels struck the marble floor in sharp, angry clicks that echoed against the walls. She slammed the door shut so hard the chandelier trembled. A glass vase on the dresser toppled over, crashing into pieces as she screamed from deep within her chest, a sound of pure fury and humiliation.
“They can’t do that to me!” she shouted, grabbing whatever she could find — perfume bottles, makeup, even a lamp — and throwing them in random directions. “They all think I’m a fool now, huh? All of them!” She paced in circles, her breath short and ragged, her eyes wild with rage. “Did they all suddenly forget who I am?!”
The door opened quietly, and Harry stepped inside, shutting it behind him. He watched her for a moment — the chaos, the shattered glass, the trembling woman who looked nothing like the poised Veronica Monroe the world adored.
“Veronica,” he said softly, “calm down.”
She spun toward him like a lioness cornered, her hair wild, her face flushed.
“Calm down?” she barked, her voice shaking. “How do you expect me to calm down, Harry? They just embarrassed me in front of everyone — in front of him!”
Harry raised his brow, wary.
“You just insulted everyone, including Leonardo,” he reminded her, keeping his tone even though she was losing control. “That wasn’t smart.”
“Smart?” she snapped, pointing a trembling finger at him. “You think I care about being smart right now? Should I have stood there and smiled like a saint while that little—” she clenched her fists, biting the word before she spat it — “stranger stood there and took everything away from me?”
“Everything?” Harry said, folding his arms. “Veronica, you’re exaggerating—”
“Oh, shut up, Harry!” she cut him off sharply, pacing again. “You know exactly what’s happening! Leonardo doesn’t even look at me the same way anymore. It’s all about his boys now.” She lifted her hands mockingly in the air as she hissed the word. “As if they’re the only family he’s ever had!”
Harry muttered under his breath,
“He did give you your inheritance. You’re the one who—”
“What did you just say?” she asked sharply, turning to him with a glare that could slice steel.
He hesitated, his throat tightening.
“Nothing,” he lied. “I just meant insulting Leonardo was a mistake.”
She laughed coldly, the sound brittle and sharp.
“Please. I’ve been insulting him since I was sixteen. What’s one more insult?” She stopped, her eyes dark and glinting as she faced him. “We need to focus on the real problem here — Zayn.”
Harry sighed and dropped onto the bed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’m trying,” he said. “We’re getting close again, but River… he’s still around. He always finds a way to ruin things.”
Veronica folded her arms and gave him a deadly stare.
“Then get rid of him. If you don’t have Zayn wrapped around your fingers soon, we’re done for. You know that, right? We’re broke, Harry. Completely broke.”
He frowned.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Oh, I think you do,” she snapped. “But maybe you need reminding of what’s at stake. You and I — we’ve got nothing left if this fails. No backup. No second chance.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping into a low, venomous whisper. “You get Zayn to marry you, and once he does, he transfers everything he owns into your name. Then you transfer it to me.”
Harry blinked, staring at her.
“You’re insane.”
She smiled coldly.
“No, I’m realistic. And you agreed to this, remember? You were all for it — until your heart suddenly got involved.”
Harry looked away, jaw tightening.
“What if we’re wrong?” he said quietly. “What if Leonardo doesn’t even leave Zayn anything? What if—”
“Don’t be stupid!” she cut him off, slamming her palm on the dresser. “I saw that will. Leonardo might have been upset, but he’s never removed Zayn. He wouldn’t dare. Zayn’s his precious heir, his golden boy. That’s where the money goes — not to me, not to anyone else.”
She stepped closer, her perfume heavy in the air, her eyes glittering with determination and something darker — desperation.
“If you fail me, Harry, if you let that little freak River ruin this for us, we’ll both be finished. Do you understand that?”
He nodded slowly, his expression torn between guilt and fear.
“I still love him,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Zayn.”
Veronica laughed, loud and bitter.
“Right. That’s why you left him the moment he got disowned. You’re not in love with Zayn, Harry. You’re in love with the idea of him — the money, the Monroe name, the spotlight that comes with it.”
Harry looked down at his hands, his knuckles pale.
“Maybe,” he whispered.
“No maybe,” Veronica hissed. “You’re going to do exactly what I said. Make him fall for you again, get that ring, and make sure the transfer papers are signed. Once everything’s in your name, you pass it to me. Do that, and we both get out clean.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” he asked.
She froze, her gaze sharp as glass.
“Then it has to,” she said finally, her voice so cold it made him shiver. “Because if it doesn’t… we’ll be bankrupt, and you already know what I’m capable of when I have nothing left to lose.”
The room went quiet for a moment — just their breathing and the faint ticking of the clock.
Then, slowly, Veronica smirked and adjusted her hair in the mirror, her reflection calm once more.
“We start tomorrow,” she said simply. “Zayn’s our salvation. And I don’t share salvation, Harry.”
Their eyes met in the mirror — two broken, desperate people, bound by greed and fear. Both knew they were walking into something dangerous. But neither dared to stop.
***
Harry stood at the corner of the terrace, watching Zayn’s silhouette framed against the light. The man was standing still, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his jaw set in that calm, unreadable expression Harry remembered too well. But there was something in his stillness that told a story—Zayn was thinking, deeply and painfully.
Harry took a deep breath, forcing his eyes to glisten as he blinked rapidly. He rubbed them once for effect, sniffled, then exhaled softly as he began walking toward Zayn. Every step he took was calculated—the slight stumble, the tremor in his voice when he finally called out,
“Zayn…”
Zayn turned slowly, his gaze softening in surprise when he saw Harry approaching him with watery eyes. For a second, there was genuine concern flickering across his face. Harry caught it instantly, seizing on it like a performer sensing his cue.
“What’s wrong?” Zayn asked, his tone weary but gentle.
Harry gave a small, broken laugh as he looked down, shaking his head.
“Why don’t you like me anymore?” he asked, voice trembling just enough to sound fragile. “What did I do, Zayn? Tell me, please, because I can’t keep pretending like this doesn’t hurt.”
Zayn frowned slightly, his arms lowering.
“Harry, I don’t—”
“Don’t what?” Harry interrupted, stepping closer, the tears now freely sliding down his cheeks. “Don’t what, Zayn? You don’t want me anymore? You can’t stand me? I’ve tried, I’ve tried to be patient, to stay out of your way, to understand that you’re… you’re going through things, but last night…”
His voice cracked, and he looked away, as if trying to control his shaking breath.
“Last night, we were supposed to have fun. Just you and me. You said we’d catch up, talk, maybe even dance for old times’ sake, but then he showed up, and everything changed. You barely even looked at me after that. I was humiliated, Zayn. Everyone saw it.”
Zayn sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.
“Harry, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Things just got a little complicated at the party. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I had to leave with River—he wasn’t feeling well.”
“Right,” Harry said softly, his eyes flicking up. “It’s always River now, isn’t it?”
Zayn looked away, saying nothing. Harry took a deep breath and reached forward, gently taking Zayn’s hands in his. His touch was tender, desperate, almost trembling.
“Zayn, look at me,” he whispered. “Do you still love me?”
Zayn’s lips parted, his chest rising slowly.
“I know you do,” Harry went on quickly, his voice breaking again. “I feel it. Every time you look at me, every time you say my name. That connection—we had something real. We were fire, Zayn. We loved each other so much, and you can’t tell me that it’s gone. You can’t.”
Zayn let out a small, helpless laugh, the kind that wasn’t born from amusement but confusion. He shook his head slightly and murmured,
“Harry… I’ve always loved you. Despite everything. Even after the way things ended.”
Harry’s eyes brightened, catching that sliver of truth like a match catching flame.
“Then why are you treating me like a stranger?” he whispered.
Zayn hesitated. His voice softened, almost breaking.
“Because when you left, Harry, you didn’t just walk away from me—you walked away from everything we built. You didn’t even let me fight for you. You made that choice, and it broke me.”
Harry’s lips quivered as he nodded, tears falling harder now. He took a step closer until their foreheads were nearly touching.
“I know,” he whispered. “I was scared. I was stupid. I didn’t know how to handle everything. My life was falling apart, and I thought if I left, I could fix myself first. But the truth is, I’ve been miserable ever since. I’ve been… empty. Because I lost you.”
Zayn’s breath hitched. He could feel the sincerity—or at least, what sounded like it—pouring from Harry’s every word.
Harry’s voice softened further, like honey laced with poison.
“But I’m ready now, Zayn. I’m ready to stand tall beside you. To love you through everything. Through the pain, the confusion, the past. I don’t care what anyone says.”
Zayn lifted his gaze, studying him for a long, quiet moment before asking in a low voice,
“Even if I’m broke, Harry? Even if I lose the Monroe name? Would you still love me then?”
Harry’s heart thudded—Veronica’s warnings flashing briefly in his mind—but he smiled tearfully and cupped Zayn’s face.
“Even more then,” he said softly. “Because then, I’ll finally have all of you… not the name, not the money. Just you.”
Zayn’s throat tightened. He wanted to believe him. God, he wanted to.
“Really?” he whispered.
Harry nodded fervently, his lip trembling.
“Yes. I swear it.”
And before Zayn could respond, Harry threw himself into his arms, burying his face in his chest. His sobs were soft, rhythmic, perfectly timed to tug at Zayn’s guilt. Zayn hesitated only for a moment before his arms instinctively wrapped around Harry’s trembling frame.
“I love you,” Harry whispered against his chest, his voice cracking beautifully.
Zayn’s eyes fluttered shut. The words hit him like a whisper from a distant past, one that still haunted him. He swallowed hard, and after what felt like an eternity, he murmured weakly,
“Ditto.”
Harry smiled faintly, his arms tightening around him like chains.
But Zayn felt none of the warmth he was supposed to. Instead, an ache grew in his chest—a confusion that burned, a guilt he couldn’t name. He sighed, pulling back slightly, about to speak when his eyes lifted and froze.
Standing a few meters away, just beyond the terrace’s edge, was River.
He was silent, motionless, watching them. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between heartbreak and resignation. When their eyes met, Zayn’s stomach twisted.
River blinked once, his lips curving into the faintest, most fragile smile. It wasn’t bitter—it was worse. It was gentle, forgiving, almost understanding. Then, without a word, he turned around and walked away.
Zayn’s breath caught, a tremor running through him. He opened his mouth to call out, but nothing came. His voice failed him, and all he could do was watch as River’s figure grew smaller, swallowed by the sunlight beyond the terrace.
Harry, still in his arms, looked up briefly, following Zayn’s gaze. His lips twitched into the faintest victorious smirk—there and gone in an instant.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, pretending not to notice.
Zayn didn’t answer. His mind was somewhere else entirely, replaying that fleeting smile that hurt more than any tear could.
***
Liana sat on the patio near the large open glass doors, sunlight spilling over her like soft honey. She had her legs crossed gracefully, one hand flipping through a glossy wedding magazine while the other lazily held a half-full glass of white wine. The soft instrumental music coming from inside the house gave everything a serene, almost cinematic calm. Every now and then, she smiled dreamily at the pages—at the white dresses, the flower arrangements, the promise of a future she was already stepping into.
River stood at the entrance for a moment, just watching her. There was something effortlessly beautiful about the way she smiled—peaceful but radiant, like she truly belonged in that picture-perfect setting. He took a quiet breath and walked over, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he approached her.
“Hey,” he said softly.
Liana lifted her head, her eyes brightening when she saw him.
“River!” she said, her lips curling into a big, welcoming smile. “Come join me. The view’s better when you have company.”
River chuckled and nodded, taking the seat opposite her.
“Thanks,” he murmured. He looked down for a second, then smiled sheepishly. “Actually, I wanted to say something.”
Liana arched a curious brow, taking a slow sip of her wine.
“Oh? Should I be worried?” she teased lightly.
River laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
“No, no, nothing like that. I just… I wanted to apologize. You know—for how things went at the party. I really didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
Liana blinked at him, surprised.
“Apologize? For what?” she asked. “As far as I’m concerned, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She shrugged easily and turned a page of her magazine. “You had fun. We all did. The rest was just… noise.”
River smiled faintly but shook his head.
“I know, but still. It was only my second time drinking, and I guess I didn’t know what to expect. I just… lost track, I guess.”
Liana laughed softly, her eyes sparkling.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, leaning slightly forward. “That’s what parties are for—to lose track a little. If you remember every second of a good night, it probably wasn’t that good to begin with.”
River burst out laughing.
“That sounds dangerously wise.”
“I know,” she said, feigning arrogance as she leaned back in her chair. “Years of practice. But really, don’t be too hard on yourself. You were fun, River. You made everyone laugh. And who cares what Veronica thinks? As far as I’m concerned, you were the only one with the balls to actually put her in her place.”
River snorted into his hand, eyes widening.
“Oh, come on, don’t make me sound like a hero. I was just… talking.”
Liana laughed.
“Talking? Please. You were performing. The way she glared at you—I thought she was gonna explode. It was glorious.”
River covered his mouth as he laughed harder, the sound bright and contagious.
“She’s terrifying, though. I’m not sure I’d survive another glare like that.”
Liana giggled and poured a little more wine into her glass.
“Oh, she’ll live. Everyone’s learned to just let her bark. She’s a Monroe after all—loud, dramatic, and allergic to being wrong.”
River smirked.
“Sounds familiar. I think I’ve met a few of those.”
“Ha!” Liana pointed at him playfully. “You’re learning quickly. I like you.”
That earned another burst of laughter from both of them, light and genuine. The air around them shifted from apologetic to easy and warm, the kind of comfort that only comes from real connection.
Minutes passed as they talked about everything and nothing—music, food, how Damian had once tried to dance salsa and nearly pulled a muscle, how Veronica probably slept with her pearls on just to remind herself she was rich. River laughed so hard at one point he had to clutch his stomach, and Liana was wiping tears from her eyes.
When their laughter subsided, she flipped her magazine closed and looked at him thoughtfully.
“You know,” she said, “my family’s coming tomorrow evening for dinner. Before the wedding.”
River’s eyebrows rose.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Yes, and I want you to meet them.”
His mouth parted slightly in surprise.
“Me? You want me to meet your family?”
“Of course,” Liana said with an easy shrug. “You’re practically part of this house now. And besides, I think they’ll love you.”
River felt a rush of warmth spread through his chest.
“That’s… really kind of you, Liana. I’d love to meet them.”
“Good!” she said brightly, clinking her wine glass against his invisible one. “Then it’s a date. Tomorrow night. And maybe,” she added with a teasing grin, “you’ll keep the dancing slightly less scandalous this time?”
River chuckled, his eyes twinkling.
“No promises.”
They both laughed again, and for the first time that day, River’s heart felt light—free from the weight that had been dragging him down since morning. Sitting there with Liana, surrounded by her warmth and laughter, it almost felt like the world wasn’t as complicated as it seemed.
Little did he know, it was the calm before the storm.
***
The night had fallen quiet, the faint hum of crickets filling the air as River stood near the balcony, the dim golden light from the corridor brushing against his tense face. His phone was pressed to his ear, his brows furrowed in deep worry.
“Forty thousand dollars?” he repeated, his voice trembling as his fingers slid anxiously through his hair. His chest felt tight, his breath shaky. “Are you sure that’s what the doctor said?”
On the other side, his younger sister’s voice cracked.
“Yes, River. They said they can’t delay the surgery any longer. The painkillers aren’t helping him anymore. Dad’s been in pain all morning… he can’t even move without wincing.”
River’s heart clenched. He closed his eyes, resting his hand against the wall, the weight of the words sinking into him.
“Where am I supposed to get that kind of money, Camila?” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “I don’t even have half of that.”
“I didn’t mean to burden you, River,” she said softly, her voice breaking with guilt. “Dad told me not to tell you, but I couldn’t keep it to myself. I’m sorry… I just— I don’t know what else to do.”
River’s throat burned.
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head as if she could see him. “You did the right thing. I needed to know. How is he now?”
“For now, he’s okay,” she said, “but the doctors said we need to start raising money. If we wait too long… the medicine won’t help anymore.”
He exhaled shakily, his mind racing, his pulse quickening.
“Okay. I’ll find a way, I promise. Just take care of him, alright? I’ll… I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Take care of yourself too, River.”
“I will,” he murmured, though the words felt hollow. When the call ended, he let the phone drop to his side. His vision blurred with unshed tears, his mind spinning with panic and helplessness. He pressed his palms together, whispering a quiet, desperate prayer. “Please… just give me something. Anything.”
He was still trying to steady his breathing when a voice interrupted from behind.
“Financial problems?”
River nearly jumped. His head snapped around, his pulse still erratic, and his eyes landed on Adrian, who stood at the end of the corridor with a faint, knowing smile. The man’s hands were tucked casually in his pockets.
“Sorry,” Adrian said quickly, lifting his hands a little. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I came out for some air too.”
River swallowed, forcing a nervous smile.
“It’s fine,” he muttered. “I didn’t realize anyone was here.”
Adrian chuckled quietly and took a few steps closer.
“You don’t like me much, do you?” he asked, his tone light, teasing even.
River blinked, a little caught off guard.
“What? Why would you say that?”
“Well,” Adrian said, leaning slightly against the railing, “for starters, I’m Veronica’s son. And let’s face it—my mother’s not exactly known for being… gentle.” He smirked faintly, his voice dipping into irony. “Can’t blame you for assuming I’m just like her.”
River shook his head quickly.
“No, I don’t think that,” he said sincerely. “You’ve never done anything wrong to me. You’ve always been quiet… and respectful.”
Adrian’s lips curved.
“I give off quiet vibes, huh? Maybe I should introduce myself properly.” He extended his hand, the smile on his face almost boyish. “Adrian Gutierrez.”
River looked at the hand for a moment, then smiled and shook it.
“River,” he said softly. “Though I’m sure you’ve heard of me. Apparently, I’m the Monroe family’s latest troublemaker.”
Adrian laughed, the sound rich and warm.
“Troublemaker, huh? I like that. Means you’ve got a little fire.” His gaze flicked over River, studying him for a beat longer than necessary. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly.”
“Same here,” River replied, his tone polite but distant.
Adrian tilted his head.
“So… what’s really going on?” His voice softened. “You looked worried when I came out.”
River hesitated, unsure if he should say anything.
“Just… family issues,” he muttered. “My dad’s sick.”
Adrian’s brow furrowed slightly.
“I’m sorry to hear that. But…” He shrugged. “You could always talk to your boyfriend about it, you know. Zayn’s not exactly short on cash. He’d help you.”
River gave a small nod but said,
“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t want to burden him, especially with the wedding so close. He has enough on his plate.”
Adrian gave a thoughtful hum.
“That’s very considerate of you,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “But you know, you look like you’re about to collapse from worry. You need to relax. You know what helps?” He paused, letting the question hang before smirking. “A drink and a laugh.”
River let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “l
“No, thank you. After what happened last night, I think I’ve had enough of that.”
“Who said anything about beer?” Adrian countered lightly. “Just a little champagne. Classy, refreshing, harmless.” Without waiting for an answer, he gestured toward one of the maids who was passing by. “Two glasses of champagne and some snacks, please.”
“Adrian, really—” River began, but Adrian just gave him an assuring grin.
“Relax. Just a friendly chat,” he said. “You’ll feel better, trust me.”
A few minutes later, the maid returned with a silver tray. The glasses clinked lightly as Adrian took them, offering one to River.
“To… unexpected company,” he said with a smile.
River hesitated but eventually raised the glass.
“To unexpected company,” he echoed softly.
They sipped, and soon enough, Adrian began to talk. He told stories of his childhood—how he’d grown up without a father, how Veronica had always been strict, and how Leonardo Monroe had stepped in as a father figure to him and his mother. He spoke with a strange mixture of warmth and bitterness, and River found himself listening, drawn into the layers beneath the charm.
“Leo wasn’t perfect,” Adrian said, taking another sip, “but he taught me how to survive. How to stand tall in a room full of sharks.”
River smiled faintly.
“Sounds like he cared about you.”
Adrian chuckled.
“He did. In his own way. You know, I envy people like you… people who still have hope in their eyes. Life hasn’t completely beaten it out of you yet.”
River laughed softly, shaking his head.
“You talk like an old man.”
“Maybe I am,” Adrian teased. “Old soul, at least.”
As the minutes stretched on, River began to relax a little. The champagne was light and fruity, and the snacks helped ease the tension in his chest. Adrian was surprisingly easy to talk to, and the heavy mood had started to lift—until a sudden wave of fatigue washed over him.
He blinked, pressing his fingers against his temple. The edges of the world began to blur.
“It was… really nice getting to know you,” he murmured, his words a little slurred. “But I think… I think the hangover didn’t really leave me. I should… go rest for a bit.”
Adrian smiled faintly, his eyes glinting.
“Of course,” he said softly. “It was nice talking to you too. Take care of yourself, River.”
River nodded, pushing himself up. He managed a small smile, but as soon as he turned, the dizziness hit harder. The floor seemed to tilt slightly beneath him. His heart thudded unevenly, his breath catching as he steadied himself against the wall.
He tried to keep walking, one hand dragging along the smooth surface for balance. His vision swam; the corridor stretched endlessly before him. His head pounded, his body heavy. Somewhere behind him, he could hear the faint sound of Adrian’s glass being set down.
“Goodnight, River,” Adrian murmured, his voice almost too soft to catch.
River didn’t reply. He was too focused on staying upright. The hallway lights flickered as he stumbled forward, every step feeling heavier than the last. His thoughts grew hazy, his eyelids drooping as the world around him faded into a slow, disorienting blur.
Behind him, Adrian leaned back in his chair, sipping the last of his champagne, a quiet, satisfied smile curling on his lips as he glanced toward the direction River had gone.
***
The sunlight bleeding through the heavy curtains was the first thing River noticed. The second was the pounding in his head — dull, throbbing, and disorienting. His eyelids fluttered open, his throat dry. For a moment, he couldn’t tell where he was. The sheets beneath him were soft, unfamiliar. The air carried a faint scent of cologne and something heavier, something that made his stomach twist.
Then his eyes focused — the ornate furniture, the deep green walls, the portrait of Veronica on the far side of the room. His heart dropped.
He sat up too quickly, dizziness flooding through him. His body felt heavy, weak. When his gaze fell to his bare chest and the sheets slipping down to reveal his nakedness— his breath caught in his throat.
“What the—” he whispered hoarsely, his eyes darting around until they landed on the figure beside him.
Adrian.
He was lying there, half-asleep, also stripped naked. His hair was tousled, one arm draped lazily across the pillow. For a moment, River couldn’t even move. His heart hammered violently in his chest as a sickening dread crawled up his spine.
“What—what happened?” River’s voice came out broken, shaking.
He grabbed at the blanket, pulling it over himself as if it could protect him from the horrible confusion clawing at his mind.
Adrian stirred, blinking awake, his expression lazy and calm — too calm.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. “You were out cold last night.”
River’s stomach churned.
“Why am I—why are we—” He couldn’t even finish the question. His throat tightened as his eyes darted to the discarded clothes scattered across the carpet — his shirt, his jeans, his belt.
Adrian sat up slowly, rubbing his face, and then looked at him with a sigh that sounded almost regretful.
“I found you in my room,” he said quietly. “You were half-asleep, mumbling something about wanting to lie down. I tried to tell you to go to your own room, but you were… persistent.”
River froze, his pulse deafening in his ears.
“Persistent?” he echoed, barely above a whisper.
Adrian looked away, a flicker of discomfort crossing his features.
“You started… touching me, River. You were saying things—begging me not to stop.” His voice was low, steady, like he was forcing himself to sound patient, understanding. “I tried to resist, I swear I did. But there are certain moments—certain ways a person touches you—and—” He stopped, exhaling shakily, as if it was painful to remember.
River felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. His hands trembled as he clutched the sheets tighter.
“No…” he whispered, shaking his head. “No, that’s not—I wouldn’t—” His voice broke, a tear sliding down his cheek before he could stop it. “I don’t remember any of that.”
“I know,” Adrian said softly, his tone almost sympathetic. “You were exhausted. Maybe you had too much champagne. I should have stopped you. God, I’m sorry.”
River’s body went cold. Every word felt like a blade twisting deeper into him. His mind raced — flashes of the night before, the dizzy spell, the way the walls had tilted, the way his body had felt heavy and slow. He remembered Adrian’s smile, the champagne, his voice saying take care of yourself.
What did he do to me?
He couldn’t breathe. His throat constricted, his vision blurring with panic. He pushed off the bed so fast he nearly tripped. Adrian reached out instinctively, but River flinched back like he’d been burned.
“Don’t,” he rasped. “Don’t touch me.”
“River—”
But he didn’t let him finish. He grabbed his clothes from the floor, his fingers trembling so violently he could barely button his shirt. Tears blurred his sight, his breath coming in short, broken bursts.
Adrian stood, watching him with a complicated look — guilt, confusion, something unreadable.
“Please, just listen—”
River shook his head, backing toward the door.
“Don’t,” he whispered again. “Please.”
His voice cracked on the word, his heart hammering painfully against his ribs. His chest felt heavy, his head pounding. All he wanted was to get out. To breathe.
He fumbled for the door handle, his fingers slick with sweat, and finally wrenched it open. The corridor outside was blindingly bright, the morning sun cutting through the haze of the night before.
For a moment, he just stood there, gripping the frame, his body trembling. Then he stepped out — leaving Adrian in the silence behind him, the sound of his own ragged breathing echoing down the hall.
Adrian stood there for a long time, his gaze unreadable, the faintest hint of a smirk ghosting across his lips as he muttered under his breath,
“See you soon, River.”
To be continued...
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