Calla heard the shower running in the bathroom and picked up the pieces of her clothes scattered around the room. He hadn't offered her even a robe to cover herself up.

But she shouldn't expect anything from him. He paid her to please him.

She took the spotless white sheet off the bed and draped it over her body. Then sat down on the edge of the bed, and took her phone out of her purse.

She had three calls from Eli and three texts – two from her brother and one from Luxe. Calla furrowed her brows and checked the time. It was a few minutes past two in the morning, and Eli had called and texted her an hour ago.

She clicked on his messages;

[I fell and hit my head, and there's blood everywhere. I don't know what to do. Please come back. (1:09am)]

[Where are you Lyra?! The blood won't stop! I feel a bit dizzy and you aren't picking up my call. I'm really scared. (1:13am)]

Then the text from Luxe;

[I know ur at work rn, so I'm texting instead of calling. Eli called me n I had to rush him to d hospital! D boy is hurt, gurl! Get ur ass here asap! (1:44am)]

Her heart sank, and she quickly stood up. Just then, Rico came out of the shower. A white towel sat low around his waist, with water droplets trailing down his chest, to the V in his abdomen, then disappearing into the towel.

This wasn’t the time for her to drool over his body. "I need to go," she fidgeted with her purse and torn clothes, knowing she needed more clothing, because she couldn't go like this.

"And who said you can leave yet?" Rico asked, his face laced with anger. He took slow strides towards her, as she struggled to stay calm.

She didn't reply him, and he yanked her hand, forcing her to look at him. Then he saw the tears in her eyes and let her go.

"Uhm, do you– do you have a shirt I co–could borrow?" She stuttered, brushing the back of her hand over her eyes, to clean the tears.

Rico peered down at her, but didn't ask questions. He went into his closet and grabbed a black t-shirt, then gave it to her. She mouthed 'thanks' and put it over her body.

It was evidently bigger than hers – by a lot – but that didn't matter now. She needs to be at the hospital.

"I'll drop you," Rico spoke, causing Calla to stop at the door, with her hand on the doorknob.

She turned to face him, shaking her head vigorously. "No, no. I'll find my way."

He scoffed, hands crossed over his perfectly sculptured chest. "Do you think you'd find a cab this late. And in this area?"

He was right, and she knew it. He was the fastest way to her brother right now.

She paused for a few seconds then nodded. "Go sit over there, I'll be dressed in five minutes," he gestured over to the deep brown color sofa in the room.

Calla did as he said, while trying to calm her beating heart. Her eyes followed him as he made his way to his closet and picked out a black shirt and navy blue pants, then black briefs.

She watched as he let the towel drop to the ground, and she quickly looked away.

She heard him chuckle, and she raised a brow. "I was just inside you, then your mouth moments ago. Why are you suddenly shy?"

She tried not to scoff. "I'm never shy," she defended, her eyes on his naked body. She wanted to tell him to move faster, not make small talk with her.

Thankfully, he smirked and carried on with his clothes.

Soon after, they were outside the mansion. Rico slid into the driver's seat, and Calla to the passenger's side.

He started the engine and zoomed out of the pathway, into the lonely night road. Then he joined the highway.

"Where to?" He asked, his eyes focused on the road. She hasn't told him yet about why she was leaving early.

She texted Luxe back in the mansion and she replied with the hospital address.

"Greenhill Hospitals," she replied. He passed her a look and quickly turned back to the road.

He didn’t ask further questions and sped up, knowing something urgent had happened.

***

They got to the hospital in fifteen minutes. Calla practically jumped out of the car and rushed inside.

She got to the reception and saw the nurse on seat. "Hi. I'm here for Eli. Elijah Monroe, I'm his sister."

The nurse lifted her head from her computer and scanned Calla. She typed something into her computer. "Second floor. Room three zero seven, by your left–"

Calla dashed away, not waiting for the nurse to finish her words. She rushed to the elevator, forgetting that she had come here with Rico.

She wasn't even sure he was still around; maybe he'd left.

She got to the second floor, and went into the ward, startling everyone in there.

"I'm– I'm sorry," her eyes scanned the room that had four beds, searching for her brother.

She spotted him and rushed to him, engulfing him in a tight hug. Luxe was by his side, and she rubbed her shoulder.

She pulled away and assessed him. "Are you alright? Did you really fall hard? Where does it hurt, huh?" But he didn’t reply. He had a bandage on his head.

He glared at her, arms folded to his chest. "I called you but you didn't come," he said. "I'm really mad at you. For real."

Calla sighed, a smile on her lips. She touched his cheeks. "I know buddy. I was busy with uh... work," she said.

"That you couldn't read my messages, or text me back?" His glare did not leave his face.

"I uh– I'm not allowed on my phone when working. It's the– the rules," she swallowed, glancing at Luxe, who passed her a teasing smile. Calla shook her head, now wasn't the time for jokes.

"How did you hit your head? What did the doctor say?"

Luxe leaned closer, her hand on Eli’s back. "He had to get six stitches and all that! But the doc said he'll be aight."

She nodded and smiled, grateful that Luxe was here for him when she wasn't.

She turned to Eli, whose glare had shimmer down a bit. He didn’t say anything for a second or two. "Th–there was blood in my hair and– and on my hands, and I didn’t know what to do," Eli blabbered, his voice cracking, and he broke down. "I was really scared, you know?"

"Oh, my sweetpea," Calla wrapped her arms around him, stroking his hair, but was careful not to graze his injury. "I'm so very much sorry I wasn't there, and I hate myself for it."

He moved away from the hug, sniffing and cleaning his tears and snorts with his hands. "I forgive you, Lyra," he said.

Just then, a figure appeared and all eyes were on him.

The air shifted the moment he walked in. Everyone held their breath, as if afraid that someone like him could snap without warning. It wasn’t the way he moved... it was the cold stillness he brought with him. Like a storm waiting to break.

His face was all sharp lines – cheekbones carved like stone, a jaw that looked like it could cut through rock. Broad shoulders, and a dark, heavy energy hovered around him like a shadow that never left.

You didn’t need to know his name to know he was dangerous. You could feel it in your bones.

"Oh. My. Sweet jeans," Luxe uttered, her mouth ajar, staring at the moving Greek god.