Adeline's POV"Sometimes it's not the headache that hurts. It's the memories that come with it."
I woke up with a hangover.A vicious, pounding one.
The kind that makes the world feel like it's swaying even though you're lying completely still. My head throbbed like a slow drum, and my throat was parched, as if I'd swallowed dust and regret.
I groaned, throwing an arm over my eyes. Bits of last night flickered like broken film — the music, the dancing, the laughter… Lukas.
God, Lukas.
His arms around me.His warmth.His scar.And something I had said that still echoed inside my skull:
"You were fifteen… I was five… I saw you… blood… dark alley…"
My heart stuttered in my chest.
I needed air.
Dragging myself up, I grabbed the blanket around my shoulders and shuffled toward the glass doors that opened onto the balcony. The morning air was crisp, sharp against my skin. I pushed the door open and stepped outside.
And instantly regretted it.
The sunlight hit me like a slap — too bright. My head spun, the hangover biting down harder, and I clutched the railing for support.
"Shit," I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut.
I was still swaying slightly when a hand wrapped around my waist, steadying me.
"Careful," came a low, familiar voice.
I looked up — blinking through the sunlight and confusion.
Lukas.
He stood close. Too close.His hand stayed firm on my waist, anchoring me. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and the sunlight danced across his toned skin like gold.
And there it was again — that scar across his shoulder and down his back.
A scar no ordinary bodyguard should have.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from it.My chest tightened.
It looked exactly like the kind I saw years ago… when one of my old guards got shot protecting me during a charity gala ambush. I was eleven then. I knew what bullet wounds looked like.
And Lukas had one.
My father always said Lukas was a trusted, loyal man — professional, quiet, reserved. He was always there, always watching, always silent.
But something wasn't adding up.
He let go of my waist slowly, as if reluctant. "You should sit," he said. "You look pale."
I nodded mutely and followed him back into the cabin where breakfast had already been placed neatly on the table.
Coffee. Toast. Scrambled eggs.Comfort food.
He poured a cup and placed it in front of me, careful and deliberate. I watched him as I sipped — trying to ignore the way his muscles moved, the weight of silence pressing between us.
I wanted to ask.About the scar.About last night.About what I had said — or remembered.
But I didn't.
Instead, I watched as his phone buzzed. Just once.
He checked it.And everything in him changed.
His shoulders stiffened. The gentle air around him vanished, replaced by something cold, clipped, dangerous.
"What is it?" I asked carefully.
He didn't look at me right away. Just stared at the screen for a second longer… then slid the phone away like nothing had happened.
"Get your friends," he said softly. "Pack your bags. We're leaving within the hour."
My heart skipped.
"What? Why? Lukas—"
He finally looked at me.
His gaze was steady. Controlled. Protective.
"Please," he said. "Just trust me."
And for some reason, despite the pounding in my head and the chaos twisting in my chest…
I did.
I didn't ask more questions after Lukas's warning — not because I wasn't curious, but because the way his tone dropped into something ice-cold made my instincts scream to listen. He wasn't just asking. He was protecting.
And that scared me more than any hangover.
I stormed into the rooms, one by one, waking everyone up.
Selene groaned and hid under the blanket like a toddler.Iris blinked at me, already half-aware, her psychiatrist instincts kicking in.Ariella, however, sat up with a smirk, "What now? Did your shirtless bodyguard finally confess he's secretly in love with you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Ariella. Get. Up. Now."
"Oh no," she grinned, stretching like a cat. "Something happened… spill while I pack. Or wait—did you two finally do something sinful on the balcony?"
"Ariella!" I snapped, cheeks warming.
She winked and sauntered off, adding, "I'm just saying… I saw the way he looks at you. Like he'd kill for you."
I didn't answer. Because maybe… he would.
Within the next half hour, bags were packed, and we were heading out. The cabin that was supposed to be our escape now felt like a memory that cracked at the edges.
Lukas didn't let me out of his sight — not for a second.
He drove. Ariella sat in the passenger seat, still being her usual flirtatious and borderline inappropriate self, tossing teasing remarks at Lukas every now and then.
"You ever take that bullet for Adeline? Or was it someone else who made you play the hero, handsome?"
Lukas didn't flinch. Just tightened his grip on the wheel.
I shot her a glare, but she only shrugged and whispered to Iris, "Just saying. The man has mafia energy. I mean, look at those arms."
Iris hushed her with a look. "Ariella, please. Read the room."
Ariella didn't care about rooms. She was the kind of girl who would walk into fire just to see how hot it burns. And honestly, part of me envied that.
But me?I was feeling the weight of memories that weren't fully mine.
And the man who once felt like a shadow behind me… was now my storm.
As the car hummed along the winding road back to the city, I rested my head against the window, trying to ignore the tight knot in my chest.
Then — like a whip — a migraine hit me out of nowhere.
I winced sharply, my fingers instinctively flying to my temple. The pain wasn't just physical — it felt like a door creaking open inside my head, something heavy trying to force its way back into the light.
"Adeline?" Iris's voice was gentle, worried.
I nodded faintly. "Just a headache," I whispered.
Lukas's eyes caught mine in the rearview mirror. Concern flickered there, but he didn't say anything. His grip on the steering wheel tightened instead.
The car dipped into silence again. Ariella stopped mid-joke, eyes shifting toward me for a moment. Even she didn't try to make light of the situation.
The ache throbbed behind my eyes. Flashes — indistinct and cruel — danced in the corners of my vision. A dark hallway. Red. The smell of burnt fabric. A scream I couldn't place.
I clenched my fists in my lap, nails digging into my palms.
"I'm fine," I said through gritted teeth.
But I wasn't. And I think they all knew it.
Iris leaned over from the front seat, her voice calm but laced with urgency."Addie, here — I have something for the pain," she said, opening her little emergency pouch and pulling out a small white pill.
But my head... it felt like it was splitting in two.
The pressure behind my eyes throbbed like a heartbeat — loud, sharp, violent. I couldn't even lift my hand. The world around me blurred, spinning like a carousel I couldn't jump off. My ears rang. The air felt too thick to breathe.
"Adeline, hey—" Iris said again, reaching for my wrist gently.
"I... I can't," I whispered hoarsely. "It's too much—"
The pain was so sharp I could barely see straight. A flash — red again. A door. A scream. Someone dragging me by the arm.
Lukas immediately pulled the car over to the side of the road. "Out. She needs air," he ordered.
The door opened and a gust of wind hit me, but even that didn't help. My knees buckled, and Lukas caught me — again. His arms wrapped around me like iron, holding me steady, grounding me.
Iris tried to place the pill in my palm again, but I couldn't close my fingers. I was trembling, barely conscious of my surroundings.
Aurelia stood behind, her eyes wide with fear. Ariella paced anxiously, muttering curses under her breath.
"Addie, just breathe," Iris whispered, placing a cool hand on my back. "You're safe. It's just a migraine. You're okay."
But I wasn't okay.I wasn't sure I ever had been.
Everything felt too loud.
The wind. The voices. The pounding in my skull. I tried to focus, but the pain didn't let me. I curled slightly into myself, trying to make it stop — to just breathe — but even that felt impossible.
Then I felt her.
Selene knelt beside me, her usual clumsy, chaotic energy replaced by something calm… gentle. Her warm hand slid around mine as she softly said, "Addie, honey. Look at me."
I blinked, trying to register her face through the blur. She smiled — just a little — not the playful kind I was used to, but a worried, protective one.
"I know it hurts, but we need to get this in you," she whispered, slowly lifting the pill Iris had given into my mouth. "You trust me, right?"
I nodded faintly.
Then she held the bottle of water to my lips with surprising steadiness. "Small sips. That's it."
I took the water, swallowing the medicine slowly. My hands were still shaking, but Selene never let go. Not once.
"You're okay," she repeated, brushing a few strands of hair away from my face. "I've got you."
She wasn't clumsy this time.Not loud.Not panicking.
She was steady — like a wall I could lean on while everything else inside me crumbled.
As I leaned back into Lukas's arm for support, I whispered, "Thank you…" barely audible.
Selene just nodded, sitting right beside me on the gravel, like she had no intention of moving until I was okay again.
And for a moment — just a flicker — I felt safe.
"I'm… I'm so sorry for the mess," I whispered, my voice barely rising above the hum of the car's engine. My head still throbbed, the medicine slowly dulling the sharp edges of the migraine, but the guilt was sharper.
I looked up at them — Selene, Iris, Ariella, Aurelia — all quiet.
But not because they were annoyed.
Because they were mad I'd even apologized.
"Seriously?" Ariella snapped, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a dramatic scoff. "You're apologizing? For what — being human? Feeling pain? Having trauma?"
I blinked. "I didn't mean—"
"No," Iris cut in, her voice calm but firm, the kind of tone she used when she was in full psychiatrist mode. "Adeline, stop. You don't need to say sorry. You're allowed to break sometimes. That doesn't make you a burden."
Aurelia crossed her arms, visibly holding back frustration. "You think we brought you on this trip to see you crash and then apologize for it? No. We're here because we love you. Because you matter."
Selene, sitting beside me again, gave me the gentlest nudge. "You don't say sorry for hurting, Addie. If you need to say anything... it should be: thank you, for staying."
Tears stung my eyes, the overwhelming warmth of their words pressing against every wall I'd built. These girls — they weren't just friends. They were family in every way that counted.
"I don't deserve you," I mumbled.
"You're right," Ariella teased, a smirk appearing. "You don't. But you're stuck with us anyway."
We all laughed softly — even me, through the dull ache.
In that moment, surrounded by their strength, I didn't feel broken.
I just felt loved.
Lukas looked down at me, cradled gently in his arms like I weighed nothing at all. His usual expression of stone-cold composure had cracked—just barely—but I saw it.
A faint smile.
So small, so fleeting, I might've missed it if I didn't already memorize the way his face moved. But it was there. Just for me.
And it settled something inside my heart.
"You good?" he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. It wasn't the words—it was how he said them. Soft, careful, like he wasn't just asking about the migraine. Like he meant everything beyond it.
I nodded slowly.
He didn't say anything else.
He didn't need to.
He just helped me into the car, his hand still on the small of my back like a silent anchor. I sank into my seat, exhaling slowly, and felt the others settle in around us.
As the engine hummed to life and we began moving again, I turned my head slightly. Lukas sat beside me—Selene driving now—eyes forward, alert as always. But I noticed how his fingers brushed against mine on the seat between us. Not by accident. Not this time.
I leaned the side of my head against the window, still woozy from the migraine, but not entirely broken anymore.
Not with them.
Not with him.
Was I falling for him?
Maybe.
No—definitely maybe.
It wasn't just the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention. Or the way his touch lingered just a moment longer than necessary. It was the way he always showed up. Quiet. Steady. Unshakable.
He saw me when I wasn't trying to be seen.
And that terrified me.
I turned my head slightly to the side, watching him out of the corner of my eye. His jaw was tight, his focus forward. Always alert. Always in control. But there was a storm just beneath that surface—I could feel it.
I wondered what he felt when I leaned into him.
When I smiled.
When I whispered his name without realizing it.
Did it stir anything in him? Did his heart race? Did he feel the way I did—that magnetic pull that made the rest of the world fade?
I bit my lip, sinking further into my seat.
I wanted to ask him.
I wanted to know.
But something stopped me. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the fact that I was still piecing myself together from the shards of my past. Or maybe it was the way he held himself—like a man who had too many secrets stitched into his skin.
I stared at the faint scar running along his shoulder that peeked out beneath his shirt sleeve.
Who was he?
And why did I feel like a part of me already belonged to him?
But… wasn't it forbidden?
A bodyguard and a princess.
We were from two different worlds — one bound by duty, the other by privilege. A line drawn between us the moment my father assigned him to me. He was meant to protect me, not look at me like that. Not make my heart skip. And I definitely wasn't supposed to feel this way.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cool window of the car. The road hummed beneath us, but my mind was a chaos of emotions.
Lukas Volkoff.
My protector. My shadow. The only one who saw me past the name, the family, the image I was supposed to maintain. And maybe… that was why this scared me so much.
Because the way he made me feel—it wasn't soft.
It was consuming.
Fire and restraint. A storm behind calm eyes. The kind of connection that demanded to be hidden, the kind that could destroy everything if it ever came into the light.
And yet... I found myself craving it.
Craving him.
His presence, his touch, the way he'd catch me even before I stumbled.
I glanced at him again. His profile carved from stone, expression unreadable. But I saw the way his hands tightened on the steering wheel when I got too quiet. The way his jaw flexed when someone looked at me too long.
He tried to hide it. But I noticed.
And the worst part?
I didn't want to stop noticing.