Sunlight poured through the tall windows, filling the room with warm golden light. The brightness gently stirred him from his unconscious slumber.
His eyes fluttered open slowly, scanning his surroundings. The room was unfamiliar — luxurious, spacious, and utterly still. He was alone. Surrounded by elegant furniture that looked too expensive to touch.
Suddenly, a sharp ringing pierced through his head. A jarring, splitting pain that forced him to clutch his temples with both hands. His breath hitched, his body trembled… but after a long moment, the pain began to fade.
He opened his eyes again.
"Where… am I?" he whispered hoarsely, voice trembling. Slowly, he tried to sit up, his limbs heavy, weak.
"How did I get here…?" he muttered again, confusion clouding his gaze. Everything was blank. His memories… gone. He could not remember what happened to him before he get here.
Before he could begin piecing together what had happened, the door to the room slowly creaked open. A young maid stepped inside, carrying a bowl of porridge and a glass of water.
She paused in mild surprise upon seeing the man Louis had brought home now sitting awake.
"You're awake?" she asked cheerfully, setting the tray gently onto the small table beside the bed.
Asher, startled at first by her sudden appearance, kept his expression stoic. He didn't understand a single word she said — the language was unfamiliar, foreign. French.
So he stayed silent. Motionless. Watching.
"Oh my, your blue eyes are so beautiful…" the girl said with a small smile, clearly charmed. "Here, eat — I brought you food. I'll go inform the young master now."
She gave him one last bright smile before quietly shutting the door behind her.
......
The young maid gently knocked on the door of Spencer's study — the room he often used for private discussions or to immerse himself in work.
When she pushed the door open, Spencer was seated at his desk, reviewing a stack of reports with his usual stern focus. Louis, meanwhile, was lounging on a nearby sofa, sketching the design of an upcoming pistol. Joshua stood at attention behind Louis, while Haider remained motionless behind Spencer's chair, ever vigilant.
As the maid stepped inside, both men looked up from their tasks to acknowledge her presence.
"What is it?" Spencer asked, his voice cold and composed.
The girl bowed respectfully before speaking. "The person Young Master Louis brought back last night… he's awake," she announced with a soft smile.
Louis glanced at Spencer, silently watching for a reaction.
"You may leave," Spencer said shortly.
With a quick nod, the maid turned and exited the room.
Without saying another word, Louis rose to his feet. "Joshua, come," he said curtly.
Spencer watched his cousin stride out, then sighed quietly. He set his pen down beside the papers, stood, and began to follow. Haider trailed after him, silent as ever.
Asher had just reached out, his hand moving slowly toward the glass of water resting on the small bedside table, when the door suddenly swung open.
He froze, startled.
Several men entered the room at once, without a word of warning. Their faces were unfamiliar — strangers, every one of them. His body stiffened slightly where he sat on the bed, and his fingers quietly clenched the edge of the blanket in his lap.
He didn't move.
Only his eyes followed them.
Who were they? And what did they want?