That night, the large house seemed to breathe slowly. The corridor lights were dim, and from the upstairs room, the blue light of a laptop screen pierced through the crack under the door.

Vella sat at the desk Victor usually used for online meetings. Her fingers danced quickly across the keyboard, searching for something she never dared to ask directly:

Victor Adrian Alexander — background, family, business, scandal.

Every search result displayed a big name, a giant entertainment company, film projects, model contracts. But something was strange—the part about his past was almost empty. No university records, no family records before ten years ago. The more she read,the colder the air around her felt.

As if Victor's entire life started from a certain point—a point deliberately created by someone.

Vella bit her lip. She opened a new tab, searching old news archives. On a dark forum, she found a photo of a young man with a face resembling Victor—but the name was different. Adrian Vance.

She leaned in, her heart beating fast. "So…you're not just a CEO, Victor…" she whispered. "Who… are you really?"

Click.

A soft sound came from behind her. Before she could turn,a hand closed her laptop screen.

"Hm," the deep voice sounded quiet but piercing. "Interesting way to find answers,Vella."

Vella froze. She could feel the warmth of Victor's breath on the back of her neck, too close, too intimate.

"Victor—"

"Shh…" he said, closing the laptop completely. His hand remained there,holding the lid shut. "Why are you searching for answers from sources other than the original one?"

His tone was calm, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. Vella swallowed."I just… wanted to know who you really are."

"And you think the internet can tell you?" Victor leaned in. His body almost touched Vella's back. "You're better off asking the person directly."

"Then, just answer," Vella whispered. "Who is Adrian Vance?" Silence hung between them.Then Victor laughed softly, the sound low and pressing.

His hand moved, touching Vella's shoulder then down to her trembling wrist. "An old name," he finally said. "A name I left behind long ago."

Vella turned her head, their gazes meeting. "Why did you hide it?"

Victor looked back at her, his eyes black and glinting under the desk lamp. "Because I don't want to lose everything again. Including you."

Vella retreated slightly, but Victor followed, trapping her between the chair and the desk. The distance between them almost vanished.

"Victor, let me go—"

"Why?" he whispered. "Are you afraid of me?"

Vella looked into his eyes, her voice choked. "I don't know who to trust anymore."

Victor slowly lifted her chin with his fingertip. "Then trust your instincts."

"And if my instincts say you're dangerous?"

"Then your instincts aren't entirely wrong," he answered with a faint smile, then pressed his forehead against Vella's.

Their breaths mingled. The world around them seemed to stop.

Amid the tension, there was a strange warmth—frightening yet soothing.

"Vella," he whispered, "I won't hurt you. But never try to uncover something you're not ready to hear. I'm protecting you, not restraining you."

His hand moved down to her cheek, his fingers gentle but firm, holding Vella in place.

"Why don't I believe that?" Vella whispered almost soundlessly. Victor looked at her for a long time,then answered quietly, "Perhaps because what I do to protect you looks too much like how someone tries to possess you."

Silence.

Vella could only stare at him—afraid, angry, and fascinated.

Meanwhile, Victor slowly stepped back, picking up the laptop and closing it fully.

"Starting tonight," he said, his tone calm yet commanding, "I'm sleeping in the room upstairs. Next to yours."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want you to be alone if someone tries to contact you again." His gaze was sharp. "Or if someone tries to touch my things without permission."

Vella knew it wasn't a request. It was an order. But for some reason,a part of her felt safer hearing it.

---

The aroma of toast and hot coffee filled the large dining room. The soft London sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, reflecting off the long white marble table.

That morning should have felt peaceful, but Vella knew nothing was truly peaceful when Victor was at the same table.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" her mother's voice sounded cheerful. The woman had just returned from her honeymoon two days ago with Victor's father,her face shining with happiness. "Finally,we can have breakfast together as a complete family."

Complete family.

The word nearly made the spoon in Vella's hand drop. Victor sat across from her,his white shirt neat, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He smiled softly—a smile that could fool anyone except Vella.

"Glad we can finally have breakfast with you and Dad," he said politely. "It feels like it's been a long time since we had a moment like this."

Victor's father patted his son's shoulder. "We're happy you're here too, Victor. You give Vella someone to rely on."

Vella smiled stiffly. If only they knew who Victor really was to her.

"By the way," her mother said, spreading jam on her bread, "Victor, I heard you're expanding your agency?"

"That's right, Ma," Victor answered casually. "We're opening a new branch in France next month. The focus is on international programs—training models, actors, and young public figures. I want to set a new standard for the European entertainment world."

Her mother looked impressed. "That sounds amazing."

Victor glanced at Vella, and the corner of his lip lifted slightly. "But I don't want to start it without someone special."

"Who?" her mother asked eagerly.

"Vella," Victor answered lightly.

The room suddenly fell silent.

Vella stared at him, her heart beating too fast. "What?"

Victor looked at her gently, but in his gaze was something that made Vella's blood run cold. "I want to make you the lead model for that program. You have great potential, and I'll make sure the world sees it."

Her mother cheered softly. "Vella, hear that! Victor wants to help you achieve your dream!"

"Mama…" Vella tried to smile, but her voice wavered. "I'm not sure—"

"Why not?" her mother cut in quickly. "You always said you wanted to be a famous model, right? Now the opportunity has come."

"But to France, Ma…"

Her mother looked at her gently. "So what? That's your dream, sweetheart."

Vella looked down, her fingers gripping the spoon tightly. "That's not what I meant."

Victor leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but biting. "Are you afraid because I'll be the one training you?"

Their gazes met. There was a fire in Victor's eyes that was hard to explain—not just professional enthusiasm, but something more personal, darker.

"I don't want to be your project, Victor," Vella whispered softly, almost inaudibly.

Victor smiled gently, but his tone held a subtle threat. "You're not my project, Vella. You're… part of the legacy I'm building."

"Victor…"

Her mother laughed lightly, unaware of the tension between them. "You two are funny. Vella is always stubborn, isn't she, Son?"

Victor looked at her mother with a polite smile. "Stubbornness is good, Ma. It means she has a strong spirit. I just want to guide that potential to the right place."

Victor's father added, "I agree. In France, you'll learn directly from the best. And who can you trust more than your own brother?"

Brother.

That word again.

Vella felt her stomach tighten. "Ma,I—"

Victor suddenly touched her hand under the table. The touch was light but firm. His gaze was demanding. Don't argue in front of them.

Vella's body stiffened, but she didn't pull her hand away. "Alright,"she finally said, softly. "If that's what's best."

Her mother looked happy, even clapping her hands softly. "Finally! I knew you two would make a great pair… I mean, a great team!"

Victor smiled without looking at Vella. "I promise, Aunt, Vella will be an international star in less than a year."

After breakfast, her mother and father went out to visit relatives.

The house became quiet again.

Vella stood on her bedroom balcony, looking down at the garden swaying in the spring breeze. She could still hear the echo of Victor's voice in her head: I just want to guide that potential to the right place.

"The right place, huh," she muttered bitterly.

The bedroom door opened softly.

"May I come in?"

Victor.

He was still wearing the same shirt, but the top two buttons were now undone, and his aura was much more relaxed—or perhaps more dangerous.

"Why didn't you just say no in front of them?" he asked softly, leaning against the doorframe.

"You know why," Vella answered coldly. "I didn't want to disappoint Mama."

Victor walked slowly closer. "You know I won't hurt you, right?"

Vella let out a small laugh. "Are you sure?"

"Sure," he answered calmly. "I just want to keep you safe. This world isn't as beautiful as you imagine, Vella. In France, I can protect you from people like Darren."

"And replace it with your own cage?"

Victor stopped in front of Vella, close enough for her to feel his breath. "If that's the only way to make sure you don't disappear from me again… then maybe yes."

Vella took half a step back. "You can't decide my life, Victor."

Victor looked at her, then gave a faint smile. "I'm not deciding your life. I'm just making sure you're headed in the right direction."

He lifted Vella's chin slowly, studying her face as if memorizing every detail. "You know, I still remember the first time you said you wanted to be a model. You were wearing a white dress in New York, remember? You said you wanted to stand on stage and be seen by everyone."

"And you want me to achieve that under your control?"

"No," Victor said quietly. "I want the world to know who kept you safe until you got there."

The words hit Vella's chest. She didn't know whether to hate him or be moved. The feeling was complicated, layered, painful yet soothing.

Victor moved closer, looking deep into her eyes. "Trust me, Vella. Paris isn't a cage. It's your stage. And I'll make sure you don't get lost on it."

Vella looked at him, her breath heavy. "And if I don't want to go?"

Victor smiled slightly. "Then I'll make you want to go."