The following days did little to improve my luck. I still crossed paths with the twins and Fiona with frustrating regularity, but I had perfected my strategy: complete and utter indifference. I became a ghost, drifting past their teasing and pointed comments without a flicker of reaction.

"What's with the cold shoulder, little kitten?" Caius would call out in the hallway, his voice laced with mock hurt. "We helped you out, remember? A simple 'thank you' feels a bit... lacking."

Aldric's approach was quieter, more intense. He'd simply watch me, his dark eyes tracking my movements with a focus that made my skin prickle.

I never responded. I couldn't understand why they were so fixated on me. If I were a stunning beauty like Fiona, with a killer body and effortless charm, maybe I could believe they were genuinely interested.

But I was just... me. Plain. Quiet. Utterly unremarkable. The only logical conclusion was that it was a game-a challenge. They were probably unused to girls who didn't fall at their feet, and my resistance was a novelty they were determined to break.

Sometimes, though, the way they looked at me felt different. It felt like they were seeing past my carefully constructed walls, like their gaze was gently peeling back my layers and brushing against my very soul. It felt like more than just flirtation.

But I always, always shoved that thought down, convincing myself I was just imagining things, reading into something that wasn't there.

On Saturday, Betty's promised help came through. She brought me to The Starline, the restaurant where she worked.

The place was charming in a simple way, with checkered floor tiles, red booths, and the comforting smell of grilled food hanging in the air. A classic jukebox sat silent in one corner, and the overall atmosphere was warm and welcoming.

"See? It's the most popular spot in town," Betty explained, gesturing around the busy room. "That's why we need the help. And the customers are usually great. Just be friendly, maybe a little flirty, and the tips can be really good."

I gave an awkward shake of my head. "I don't know how to flirt. I'm... kind of wooden."

"You'll learn!" she said encouragingly, handing me my new uniform.

My heart sank when I saw it. It was a classic waitress dress, but the skirt was far shorter than anything I'd ever worn.

When I put it on, my legs felt exposed and strangely cold, a constant, unsettling breeze reminding me of the unfamiliarity. I was used to the safety of long jeans. A powerful urge to run surged through me, but I fought it down. This was for the money. For college. For escape. Every single penny counted.

Taking a deep breath, I walked out of the back room, ready for my first shift. And my heart immediately plummeted to my feet.

Walking through the front door, as if summoned by my worst nightmares, were the twins and Fiona.

Fiona spotted me first. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "You have got to be kidding me. Didn't expect to run into a nuisance here. Damn it."

Another waitress, a blonde named Stacy, immediately swooped in, smiling brightly at the twins. "Aldric! Caius! Your usual booth is free."

Relief washed over me. I could avoid them.

But just as I turned to escape, Caius deftly sidestepped Stacy and caught my arm. "Actually," he said, his eyes glinting mischievously, "we'd like her to take our order."

I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief.

Caius looked over at his brother. "What do you think, Aldric? Should our favorite new student serve us?"

Aldric's gaze was unreadable. "Sounds like a perfect idea," he said, his voice low.

Stacy shot me a look of pure venom before storming off.

I let out a bitter smile. For crying out loud! This was not my fault!

"Well?" Aldric prompted, noticing my frozen stance. "Are you just going to stand there? Do you not want us to have lunch here?"

The threat in his tone was clear. My job was on the line. I forced a tight, professional smile onto my face. "Sorry. What can I get for you?"

Fiona scowled. "Just a water. Looking at you kills my appetite."

Taking a deep breath, I told myself not to be bothered by her attitude. I noted it down her order and turned to the twins. They ordered two sodas and the popular double-decker burger platter to share.

When their order was ready, I carried the heavy tray over carefully, my knuckles white with tension.

My greatest fear was tripping and making a complete fool of myself in front of them. I held my breath, carefully navigating between tables, and finally managed to lower the tray onto their table with a soft thud of success. I let out a silent sigh of relief and began unloading the plates.

It was when I was handing Caius his soda that it happened. He suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand-and the glass-sharply toward him. The dark, fizzy liquid sloshed over the rim, splashing directly onto his black shirt.

I stared, dumbfounded. It had been a deliberate, calculated move.

"You clumsy idiot! Look what you've done!" Fiona shrieked, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. "I'm getting the manager. You're so fired."

Panic seized me. "No, please!" I begged, my voice shaking. "I'm so sorry! The soda... it's on the house. Please, don't."

Fiona opened her mouth to argue, but a single, icy look from Caius silenced her instantly. When he turned his gaze back to me, it had softened into its usual flirty demeanor.

"It's quite alright," he said, his tone magnanimous. "It was my fault as much as yours. I moved too suddenly." He glanced down at his shirt. "Lucky it's black, isn't it? Hardly shows. Just go and get a clean cloth and help me dry it off, and we'll call it even."

Nodding hastily, I hurried to the back and returned with a clean, dry towel. He stood up and gestured for me to follow him toward the restrooms. We stopped outside the men's room door.

I held the cloth out to him. He didn't take it. Instead, he raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to clean it? It was your spill, after all."

Biting back a retort, I stepped forward and began dabbing at the damp spot on his chest. The fabric of his shirt was thin, and I could feel the firm, warm muscle of his chest beneath my trembling fingers. I tried to steady my breathing, to ignore the heat radiating from his body.

He chuckled softly, grabbing my wrist again and pulling me closer. "You can't properly clean it from way over there." His scent, that expensive, woody cologne, wrapped around me, making my head feel light and my body grow warm.

Gritting my teeth against the confusing stir of emotions inside me, I pressed the cloth more firmly against his shirt, scrubbing at the spot with a frustrated energy. The moment I was finished, I tried to step back, to flee from this overwhelming proximity.

But in a swift, shocking movement, he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulled me forcefully into the men's room, and I heard the decisive click of the lock behind us.

My jaw went slack as I stared at Caius, the locked door feeling like a cage. "Why did you lock us in?" I hissed, my voice a panicked whisper. "Someone could see us!"

He reached out, his fingers gently brushing my cheek. A shiver I couldn't control ran down my spine. "Relax," he murmured, his voice low and confident. "It's empty. And the door is locked. No one will disturb us."

I clenched my jaw, anger bubbling up to mask my fear. "You're the only disturbance I need to worry about."

He had the audacity to look wounded, placing a hand over his heart. "Why are you so cold to me? I just want to talk."

"Talk?" I scoffed, frowning. "We have nothing to talk about."

He shook his head slowly, his eyes tracing the lines of my face. "We do. The way you ignore me, ignore Aldric... it's frustrating. We can't stop thinking about why you're so different." He reached for my face again, his thumb stroking my cheekbone.

I flinched and tried to pull away, stumbling back a step until the cold, hard edge of the sink counter dug into my back. He closed the distance in an instant, caging me in with his arms on either side. I was trapped. A flutter of genuine panic rose in my chest.

"Don't... don't stand so close," I stammered.

He shook his head, a slow, deliberate motion. "No." His voice was a soft whisper. "You're mine."

"I am not!" I shot back, my hands coming up to push against his chest. It was like pushing a brick wall. He didn't budge. Instead, he lowered his head, his nose skimming the side of my neck. A gasp caught in my throat.

"You smell incredible," he whispered, his warm breath fanning over my skin. "It drives me crazy. I could just eat you up."

I rolled my eyes, trying to cling to my slipping composure. "I can't afford perfume. Do you use that line on all the girls? That does not work on me."

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, his expression suddenly serious. "No," he said, his gaze intense. "Only you."

A swarm of butterflies erupted in my stomach. He was too good at this. His warm breath ghosted over my cheek, making me feel both ticklish and strangely restless.

Then, he lowered his head again, a slow, deliberate descent that spoke of an intent absent from his earlier teasing. This time, there was no mistaking his purpose. His lips, impossibly soft, found the fluttering pulse at the base of my neck.

A jolt, sharp and sweet, shot through me. I stiffened, a statue carved from conflict, every muscle tensing in a silent plea for him to recognize my hesitation.

But he did not stop.

Oblivious, or perhaps indifferent, to my rigid stillness, he began a slow pilgrimage down the sensitive column of my throat. Each kiss was a brand, a slow, deliberate seal against my skin, tracing a path of fire from the shell of my ear to the elegant architecture of my collarbone.

My own breath hitched, a traitorous captive in my chest, as the battle between my mind's protest and my body's awakening raged under his mouth.

The world narrowed to the warm pressure of his mouth on my skin. As his head dipped a second time, his lips found the hollow of my neck. I froze, a silent scream trapped in the cage of my ribs, my body turning to marble beneath his touch. It was a protest he ignored.

Undeterred, he mapped a tender, aching trail of kisses down the arch of my throat. Each one was a slow, melting point of contact, a deliberate unraveling of my resolve that left a phantom heat in its wake. The sensation was a treacherous tide, pulling me under, blurring the line between invasion and bliss. My mind screamed in defiance, but my body told a different story.

And then, from a place deep within me that no longer heeded my will, a soft moan escaped. It was a tiny, shattered sound, the sound of surrender, and I felt it vibrate against his lips-a secret I could no longer keep.

I heard him smirk against my skin, the sound vibrating through me. He looked smug.

He then took my hand, pressing my palm flat against the firm, warm plane of his chest. "You're mine," he repeated, his voice husky. "And I'm yours. You can touch me whenever you want."

His words made my heart skipped a beat. I'd never been this close to a man before. The only comparison was Robert's drunken, groping hands, which always filled me with disgust and fear. But this... Caius's touch was different. It sent a thrill through me, a confusing mix of nervousness and a deep, undeniable pull.

I was uneasy, but I wasn't repulsed.

"Do you hate this?" he whispered, his lips close to my ear.

I stayed silent. I wasn't used to lying, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of the truth-that my heart was hammering and my skin was on fire.

Caius sighed, feigning defeat. "I see. I'll just have to try harder to win you over, then."

My cheeks flushed. A part of me, a part I was deeply ashamed of, was curious about what "trying harder" meant. But at that moment, a sharp rap on the door shattered the tense intimacy.

I jumped, instinctively shrinking into Caius's chest, seeking shelter.

He let out a low, rich laugh, his arms tightening around me. "Look at that. First time you've willingly come to me." He sounded unbearably pleased. "Don't worry."

"Don't worry?" I whispered, horrified. "If someone sees us like this..."

Before I could finish, Caius abruptly released me and stepped away. My eyes widened in confusion, then pure horror as I realized his intention. He was going to open the door.

I moved to stop him, but it was too late.

The lock clicked. The door swung open, and Aldric stepped inside, locking it again behind him with a calm, practiced motion.

My face burned. He stood there, his expression unreadable as his gaze swept over my flushed skin and disheveled clothes. I felt utterly exposed, as if he could see every secret kiss Caius had left on my skin.

I hastily straightened my uniform, desperate to escape this dangerous room. "I have to get back to work," I mumbled, trying to sidestep him.

Aldric moved, blocking my path effortlessly. A small, knowing smile touched his lips. "You could skip work all day, and still, the manager wouldn't say a word." His voice was quiet but absolute. "This restaurant belongs to my family."

I was stunned for a moment. Then a cold, sharp anger began to crystallize within me. How dare they hold themselves with such superiority? They moved through the world as if they were its masters, and I, a mere trinket placed there for their amusement. I had enough!

I spat, "I am not your toy!"

His smile faded, replaced by a look that was strangely sincere. "I don't think of you that way," he said, and something in his tone made my heart stutter.

For a second, I felt... cherished. Yet, this conviction was perpetually contradicted by their actions-a cruel dissonance that churned within me. Their teasing smiles and playful nudges, which might have been mistaken for fondness in another light, only served to underscore my powerlessness. Each casual gesture was a reminder that I was not an equal to be respected, but a diversion to be amused by.

"Then please," I pleaded, my voice shaking, "just leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with you."

Aldric echoed his brother's words, his voice a low, possessive murmur. "But you're mine."

They moved closer, until I was sandwiched between them. Their body heat was overwhelming. I could feel the hard, unyielding evidence of their arousal pressing against me from the front and back.

My body began to tremble, my limbs turning to jelly as a wave of helplessness washed over me. I stopped struggling, my will to fight dissolving.

Just as I surrendered to the inevitable, a familiar voice called out from the other side of the door, sharp with concern.

"Sylvia? Are you in there?" It was Betty.