River

"Drink this. You just threw up." I held out a glass of water I'd grabbed from the nightstand.

Ayla took it, sipped once, then handed it back with an unsteady hand. She was completely out of control when drunk, and honestly, I was lucky she hadn't ended up with some guy who would've taken advantage of her.

What I didn't expect was her hand tugging me closer-so close our faces were barely an inch apart. Her heavy-lidded eyes dropped from my face down to my neck.

My eyes widened when her lips brushed against my Adam's Apple.

God. This was the last thing I saw coming. My brain went haywire, my throat going dry as saliva slid down automatically.

I couldn't let myself lose it. But the fire in me burned hotter, twisting my thoughts. A low sound escaped my throat as her hand slid across my chest. Then lower, to my waist.

This can't happen, River.

"Ayla, stop... you're still drunk." I pulled her hand away.

"You don't want me, River?" she whispered.

My sanity snapped back. I cupped her face gently, forcing her eyes open just a little wider.

"Not now. Not like this."

"Coward!" she shoved me, frustration lacing her slurred voice.

That was better than me giving in to a desire that had no business surfacing tonight.

"Say that again when you're sober, Hope."

I left her in my room, making it through the storm of temptation by taking a long hot shower and crashing on the couch in the living room.

**

By the time Ayla came out the next morning, I was setting up the space heater. The autumn air bit sharply even with the sun climbing higher.

I'd been up since six, cleaning up the studio rental to make it feel a little more comfortable for her. The things I'd asked Travis for were already on the table-painkillers for the hangover, bagels, and warm buttered toast. The size 4 dress she'd brought with her was neatly folded over a chair.

"Good morning... River," she said quietly.

"Morning. Since you're fully awake now, let's eat." I turned to face her.

Her expression shifted instantly-panic flashing across her face as her eyes darted around, noticing the clothes she wore weren't hers. Her cheeks flushed red, and she ducked her head. I walked over slowly, handing her a glass of water laced with Aerex.

"Take this after you eat. Hangover meds."

She took it carefully. "Who... changed my clothes?"

"I did," I admitted without hesitation. "You were half-conscious and your clothes were ruined from throwing up. Luckily, it didn't get on the bed."

She stayed quiet, eyes downcast, embarrassed. I didn't want to push it, so I left her alone long enough to shower.

By the time I came out in a plain T-shirt and sweats, my phone was full of notifications from Travis. One stood out-the results of his background check on Ayla Monroe.

Or Hope Marsh.

My childhood friend. The girl who once saved me when I was just a scared kid with a heavy Japanese accent. I'd spent the last two years searching for her, and finally, here she was-on this very campus.

At first, I wasn't sure it was her. But the surgical scar on her stomach had confirmed it. I remembered the day clearly: her appendix had burst in elementary school, and she'd written me a letter before going into surgery.

We'd been inseparable back then. She was the one who made me braver after that incident on the bridge, the one who became my first love. All I wanted now was to prove to her that I wasn't the same timid boy anymore.

"River?"

I turned quickly. She stood at the doorway, drowning in my oversized shirt and rolled-up sweatpants. Strange, but kind of cute.

"What is it?"

"Did I... do anything embarrassing last night?"

I knew this question would come. And if she ever found out she'd almost broken my self-control, her guilt would swallow her whole.

So I lied. "No. You were fine."

"Do you have my phone?" She glanced around, clearly anxious.

"It got crushed under a car tire when we caught the Uber."

I showed her the plastic bag with the nearly destroyed phone inside. Her face paled, panic written all over it. I handed her mine. "Use this if you need to."

She grabbed it and immediately called someone-Yuna, her best friend.

"Yeah... I'm safe. I'm at a friend's place. I'll explain later. Can you pick me up? I'll send the location."

When she hung up, her eyes found mine again.

"I... I don't remember much about last night. Can you tell me what happened at the club?"

I kept my tone steady, calm. "I was there too. You came in with your friend, looking tense, like you'd just fought with someone. You sat at the bar and started drinking. A lot. I saw you from across the room, and before long, you passed out. I carried you out before anyone else could try anything."

I didn't mention the kiss. That was something she didn't need to know-not yet. When the right time came, I wanted her to remember it on her own.

She studied me, doubt flickering in her gaze. "So... you just happened to be there?"

"Yeah. My idiot friend had the keys to this apartment. I went to meet him." No way was I telling her I'd followed her there. Not yet.

She fell silent, her eyes drifting to the breakfast spread. "Thank you, River. You didn't have to do all this."

I sat across from her. "Why'd you drink that much?"

Ayla sighed. "My cousin, Rhett. He's... overprotective. Way too much. He told me I wasn't allowed to be near you. Not even as a friend. I got frustrated. So I drank."

The name hit me. Rhett. Travis had already mentioned him during the research. We'd met yesterday and clashed immediately. Dominant, controlling-that was him.

"I feel weird," she admitted. "But when I talk to you... I don't know. I feel comfortable. Like I've known you before."

Her words stopped my heart for a beat. If only she knew how much I remembered-every second we'd shared. Why was it only me who remembered?

I forced a smile. "Maybe we have met before."

She gave a small nod, nibbling at her toast. "I've never been drunk before."

"And don't do it again," I said too quickly. Way too quickly.

Her wide eyes lifted to mine. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I cleared my throat. "I mean... you're not the type who needs alcohol to run from your problems. There are other ways."

Her gaze lingered on me before a small smile curved her lips. "Alright, Mr. Wise Guy."

Before I could reply, the doorbell rang. Ayla jumped to her feet, panic written all over her face. "That's Yuna."

I grabbed the fresh clothes Travis had bought and handed them to her. "Here. So you'll feel more comfortable going home."

She took them, her voice soft. "Thanks. Again."

At the door, she paused, turning back.

"River... I'm glad you were there last night. I don't know what would've happened if it wasn't you."

"I'll always be there if you need me," I answered without hesitation.

She smiled faintly and left.

The door clicked shut, but her scent still lingered. I sat back down, pulling up the digital file Travis had sent. The records of Hope Freissy Marsh. Birth date. Medical history. And one detail that stood out-

2015: Mild head trauma. Possible effect: long-term memory loss.

So that was it. She really had forgotten me.

My phone buzzed-Dad calling. He'd want me at Thanksgiving again. Half-Japanese or not, he never let go of Mom's traditions.

"I'll be there, Dad. Don't worry," I said quickly before he could start.

I hung up, only to hear a knock on the door. Travis.

"Everything's handled, River," he said, walking in. "How long do you want this place rented?"

"One year. We're staying."

His brows rose. "So... she really is Ayla Monroe. Hope Marsh?"

I stared at the door she'd just walked through. Memories of our childhood, her handwritten letters, and old scars twisted in my chest.

"She's the girl you've been searching for, isn't she? The one you... love?"

I didn't answer. I didn't need to. The truth was written all over me.

Ayla

"Did you guys sleep together?"

That was Yuna's tenth question since we left River's apartment. Honestly, I wanted the elevator floor to open up and swallow me whole. I gave short answers, but she kept firing off questions like some snack-carrying detective with a messy bun. It felt more like a police interrogation than a heart-to-heart.

Truth is, I barely remembered last night-except puking in front of River. Even the part where I ended up in his bed? Total blur. All I knew for sure was that I was mortified. Like, peak embarrassment.

"I don't think so," I mumbled, glancing down to make sure I still had all my clothes on.

Yuna narrowed her eyes like a suspicious cop, then let out a dramatic sigh. Weirdly enough, she smiled. Which definitely wasn't a normal best friend reaction. It felt like... satisfaction?

When we got to Yuna's quiet house, I was desperate for clarity. River's version of the story this morning didn't help-if anything, it made things more awkward.

"So? Spill. What happened?" I asked, sliding open her bedroom door.

"Sit first. I'll grab snacks," she replied casually, tossing me a pair of house slippers.

"Where's everyone else?"

"My mom's driving my little sister somewhere. My brother's at an interview at the gallery."

A few minutes later, she came back with a tray of rice cakes and two cold drinks, fresh off a call from her mom. I sat cross-legged on the rug, trying to keep myself from overthinking everything-especially River... or Rhett.

If my phone weren't dead, Rhett would've blown it up with messages by now. But today, I didn't want to be reachable. I needed to prove that I could survive without him hovering like a mother hen.

"You wanna know what I think about River?" Yuna asked as she popped a rice cake in her mouth.

I raised a brow. "Is he the type to be cautious of? Or the kind who loves a challenge?"

She shrugged. "From what you told me... he seems decent. But..." She stared at the ceiling like she needed a second to gather courage.

"But what?"

"You... kissed him, Ayla."

I choked on the rice cake mid-bite, coughing hard as I tried to swallow and process what she had just said.

"W-what?!"

"Yeah. I saw it last night, but from the way you talked and how he looked? You kissed him first. And you know what guys can get when a girl makes the first move... but then nothing else happens."

My heart was pounding. I had never kissed anyone before. Not even in high school-I was too busy just surviving and Rhett was always too possessive to let anyone near me.

Strangely, I didn't feel guilty. Not like I did when I puked on River's bed. If anything... I felt kinda happy. But I quickly hid my dumb smile by pretending to chew.

"Do I look like a slut?" I asked.

"Nope," Yuna giggled. "Honestly, you looked pretty composed for someone who woke up in a hot guy's bed."

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, cutting the moment short.

Yuna stood up and looked toward the stairs. "Wait here."

"No, I'm coming too."

We went down together, and when she opened the door...

"Rhett," I whispered.

He stood there with my two cousins-Reese and Reid. All three of them looked tense, but only Rhett stepped inside right away.

"You okay? Your phone's dead and I knew it-" he paused, eyeing Yuna coldly.

"I'm fine," I said, but he turned to me and grabbed my arm.

"Let's go home."

"Rhett, I'm fine. You don't have to-"

"You were drunk, Ayla. I had no idea where you were last night. I... I was worried." His voice was softer than usual, and weirdly gentle.

I didn't argue. Maybe I had gone too far. But still... something about him felt off. He wasn't yelling. He wasn't dragging me to his car like a maniac. He was just... calm. And somehow, that made me follow without a fight.

Once we got home, he treated me like I was fresh out of the ER.

"Drink more water. Eat something. And seriously, no more passing out drunk, okay?" he said, giving me the same look a parent gives their kid caught playing in the rain.

"Okay..." I mumbled, too drained to start a fight.

*

The next day, campus was a mess.

I'd just stepped out of the car when a crowd of students sprinted toward the south building by the man-made lake. There was shouting, chaos, people whispering about a fight.

Curious, I hurried after them-heading straight to the gym, where the yelling was loudest.

"A business major hit an architecture student!"

"One of them's tall with long black hair! The other one's blond and cold as ice-"

"It's Rhett and River."

My heart dropped.

Now I knew why Rhett left so early this morning. I pushed through the crowd until I could see clearly-and froze.

River was standing there, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, but he wasn't fighting back. Rhett, on the other hand, looked like a damn furnace-face flushed red with rage, fists clenched, ready to strike again.

"Rhett, STOP!" I yelled, rushing toward them.

He looked over, giving me a chance to step between them. My chest was heaving, both from running and from sheer panic.

"He didn't do anything to me! Stop it!"

River exhaled slowly. "I never meant to hurt Ayla."

I turned to him, and for a moment, his bruised face didn't even register. His eyes... they looked more wounded than anything else. But he still held my gaze-calm. No anger or blame.

Rhett stared at me like I'd stabbed him in the back. "He touched you, Ayla. He took you away-"

"That's enough!"

I met his eyes, firm. "This isn't your business."

The gym went dead silent.

Then, River spoke again. "Actually..." his voice was low, heavy.

I turned toward him. "Don't you think it's weird?" he asked.

I blinked, confused.

"He's your cousin, right?" River gave a dry, almost sad smile. "The way he acts around you... it's more than just being protective."

"Shut your damn mouth!"

Rhett lunged again, but I blocked him. "Please, stop. I'll go with you. Just don't fight. Not because of me."

Suddenly, it felt like someone slammed a brick into my skull. The pain was searing, crawling through my head like wildfire. Flashes-blurry, broken-started pouring in.

A voice. Screaming my name.

And then-everything went black.

Ayla

"I promised I'd be strong for you. Please... don't go."

That voice kept echoing in my head, faint but relentless-like a little boy calling out from far away. I remembered his eyes-dark, full of determination-but... who was he?

Everything blurred when I saw that boy being dragged toward a car. I wanted to scream, to help him, but my body betrayed me. My head throbbed violently, my legs felt like stone, and in the next second, the world spun... then went black.

*

When I woke up, everything was white. Blinding light glared down on me. An IV line was stuck into my arm, piercing my pale skin. I let out a shaky breath, trying to make sense of it all.

But something felt strange. This didn't smell like a hospital. No sharp scent of antiseptic. Instead... there was this sweet, delicate, slightly bitter fragrance filling the air-soothing yet suffocating.

I'd smelled this before. I just couldn't remember where.

"Ayla..." A voice broke through my thoughts. Soft. Relieved. "Thank God you're awake."

I turned my head slowly. Mom's blonde hair framed her face perfectly, cascading over her shoulders. Her crystal-blue eyes-the same eyes I inherited, the ones I'd always admired-looked clouded with worry. Her porcelain skin was flawless, but the forced smile on her lips gave her away. She was terrified.

"Mom..." My voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

"Oh, honey." She grabbed my hand and held on tight. "You scared us to death. Do you know that?"

I swallowed hard. My throat felt like sandpaper. "I... I had a dream, Mom. I saw... a boy. He-"

Before I could finish, a sharp pain shot through my head. Images flickered in my mind: small dirty hands, a pair of wounded eyes, a faint voice begging for something. I clenched my eyes shut, groaning.

"Ayla? Ayla!" Mom's panicked voice grew louder as her hands gently patted my cheeks. "Sweetheart, don't push yourself. You're still weak."

I took a deep breath, forcing the pain to loosen its grip. When I opened my eyes again, the door slid open.

A man walked in, followed by a doctor in a white coat.

And with just one look, I knew-it was my father. Virone Corsetti.

A name that could make grown men tremble. His jet-black hair was slicked back, his tailored black suit fitting like armor. His presence filled the room-cold, commanding, lethal. Every step he took across the marble floor sounded like a warning shot, forcing me to lower my gaze without meaning to.

"Ayla." His voice was deep, firm, and absolute. No hesitation. He stopped at the foot of my bed, staring at me with those unreadable gray eyes. "How do you feel?"

"A little dizzy," I murmured.

He nodded, then shifted his attention to the doctor. They spoke briefly-I only caught words like "stable" and "complete rest." Then the doctor left. Now it was just me, Mom, and the man who wasn't just my father-he was the dark legend of Sicily.

"What happened at the campus..." Papa began, his tone making my heart pound. "...won't happen again."

I looked at him, waiting.

"Rhett acted recklessly. He started a fight with another student. That was careless." His gaze hardened-but not at me. It was like he was looking past me, straight at Rhett's shadow lingering in the room. "He'll be punished for this. Because of him, your PTSD flared up."

That name stabbed me like a knife. Rhett. My stubborn, overbearing cousin.

"Where is he, Papa?" My voice was quiet but sharp.

Papa's jaw tightened for a split second. "Don't concern yourself with him."

My teeth clenched. "You know he went too far. Rhett always-always does whatever the hell he wants! And now I-" My breath hitched. "I almost-"

"Enough." One word from him was enough to shut me down. "You need rest. Not this conversation."

But I knew. I could feel it-he was hiding something. The way he avoided my eyes, the way his fingers curled into a fist for just a second before relaxing again. This wasn't just about being mad at Rhett. It was something more.

"Papa-"

"Ayla." His tone softened, but the authority in it didn't budge. "Leave this to me."

And with that, he turned and walked out. His black coat swept behind him as the door clicked shut.

"Mom..." My voice cracked. "Do you know where Rhett is? I need to talk to him. End this. He punched that guy right in front of me-just because he was close to me."

Mom sat on the edge of the bed, gently brushing my messy hair back. "Sweetheart, don't think about him right now. Just focus on getting better, okay?"

I turned away, staring at the white wall. My chest burned with anger and frustration. Rhett always managed to ruin my life whenever I tried to live normally.

"Mom, he's suffocating me."

"Shh... Ayla, listen to me." She pulled me into a soft hug. "You're safe here. That's what matters."

I took a deep breath, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. But that scent hit me again-the same intoxicating fragrance from before. I glanced toward the nightstand and saw it: a single elegant white flower in a glass vase.

"Who put that there?" I asked.

Mom followed my gaze. "I did. The courier dropped it off earlier. No name. Just this." She picked up a small card tucked between the petals and handed it to me.

Neat handwriting on cream paper:

Get well soon. The world's not done waiting for you.

- RC

I frowned. RC? Who the hell was that?

"Mom, this..."

She just gave a small shrug. "Maybe a friend of yours?"

I bit my lip. RC. I knew all my friends' initials. None matched.

"Oh, and..." Mom handed me a small box. "New phone. Yuna said your old one was... completely trashed."

I turned it on and popped in my SIM card. As soon as the screen lit up, my fingers flew across the keyboard.

Me: Yun, what the hell happened? Rhett... River... explain.

Silence. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.

Then my phone buzzed. A single reply-just a photo.

My breath caught as I stared at the screen. It was River. Lying on the campus infirmary bed. His head was bandaged, dried blood staining his temple.

My heart hammered against my ribs. My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles hurt. The pain in my head came roaring back-this time fueled by white-hot rage.

Damn it, Rhett... what the hell did you do?