The morning sky was covered in a pale shade of gray, with weak sunlight filtering through the leaves, casting a soft glow on the front yard of the Egbert family's mansion. The faint chirping of birds broke the silence, but inside the house, the atmosphere was unusually tense.
Mrs. Rihanna—Serena Egbert's mother—sat on the sofa, her gaze skimming over her daughter's arm. A faint bruise stood out against Serena's fair skin, like a lingering trace of the night before.
Her expression shifted—first surprise, then worry. She placed her teacup on the table and gently pulled Serena's wrist closer.
"Serena, what happened to your arm?"
Her voice wasn't loud, but there was a hidden sternness beneath it.
Serena flinched, instinctively pulling her hand back. She didn't want her mother to worry, but she also couldn't come up with a convincing explanation fast enough.
Her heartbeat quickened, and her eyes wavered slightly. Her fingers unconsciously clenched into a fist, the cold tips pressing into her palm in an attempt to mask her unease.
"It's nothing, Mom. I probably just bumped into something."
"Bumped into something? How does that leave a mark like this?"
Mrs. Rihanna's sharp gaze remained fixed on her daughter, unwilling to be easily deceived. "You even have a faint bruise on your face… Serena, is someone bullying you?"
Her mother's keen intuition made Serena tighten her fists even more. She lowered her head, avoiding the probing gaze. Her throat felt dry, and words failed her.
The sensation of being seen through made her tense, her breath turning uneven. The more Mrs. Rihanna looked at her, the more uneasy she felt. She had raised Serena for years—she could read every little expression and movement. She knew her daughter was hiding something.
"Serena, tell me the truth." Her voice softened slightly but remained firm.
"It's really nothing, Mom."
Serena forced a smile, trying to reassure her.
"I was just careless."
Mrs. Rihanna didn't believe her. She gently pulled up Serena's sleeve, revealing more scattered bruises on her slender arm. Her heart clenched.
Her delicate little girl, the one she had always protected, since when did she start carrying these hidden wounds?
Serena's silence only deepened her mother's worry. Mrs. Rihanna sat beside her, taking Serena's cold hands into her own.
"My dear, if something's wrong, don't hide it from me. If someone is hurting you, I will never let it slide."
Serena bit her lip, her eyes reddening slightly. She didn't want to burden her mother, nor did she want to revisit what had happened. Her hands trembled slightly as fragmented images flashed through her mind…
That night.
A long, empty hallway.
A deep, shadowy gaze trapping her in an unreadable stare.
Sharp words ringing in her ears.
A truth she didn't want to accept.
A creeping sense of unease rising in her chest.
"Mom, I'm really fine."
She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
"Please don't worry, okay?"
Mrs. Rihanna was still unconvinced, but seeing how persistent her daughter was, she chose not to push further. She sighed and gently stroked Serena's hair.
"Alright, I'll trust you. But if anything happens, you have to tell me. Promise?"
Serena nodded, a warmth blooming in her chest. Yet deep within her eyes, there was still something she couldn't bring herself to say…
A week ago.
Christopher Cyrus stood on the top floor of a café, his sharp gaze sweeping over the scattered documents spread across the table. He wasn't the type to pry into others' personal affairs, but this time, he made an exception.
The file in front of him contained everything about Serena Egbert—her academic records, extracurricular activities, even her home address. Everything was within his grasp.
His fingers traced the words listing her address, his eyes narrowing slightly. His men hadn't taken long to find this information, but that didn't mean Serena was easy to approach. The Egbert mansion had a strict security system.
And then, there was the complication—Cedric Lawrence.
Christopher tapped his fingers against the table, deep in thought. Cedric wasn't a stranger to him. He was always watching over Serena, always in the background.
Between the three of them, an invisible thread had long been woven—one that even Serena herself hadn't fully realized.
"I've contacted someone within the security team of the Egbert estate. When you're ready, they'll open the side gate for you."
A faint smirk played on Christopher's lips. He closed the file, straightened his sleeves, and stood up.
"Good."
Present day.
A light breeze drifted through the window, carrying the faint scent of jasmine. Serena got up, using the excuse of needing rest to escape her mother's scrutinizing gaze. But just as she stepped onto the first stair, a deep voice from behind made her pause.
"Why didn't you tell your mother?"
Christopher Cyrus.
He leaned casually against the doorframe, his dark eyes flickering as they traced the bruises on her arm. Last night, when he had taken her home, she had tried to hide her arms in her long sleeves. But Christopher was not so easily fooled.
Serena pressed her lips together and turned to face him.
"There's nothing to say."
Christopher let out a soft chuckle, his gaze both gentle and piercing.
"You're hurt. Am I not allowed to care?"
"You don't have to."
He raised an eyebrow, stepping forward.
"And if it were Cedric Lawrence? Would you say the same to him?"
Serena froze.
Her fingers curled tightly, her breath faltering. The name Cedric Lawrence stirred something deep within her.
Memories flooded back—Cedric's worried eyes, the way he always appeared at the right moment when she was in trouble, the warmth in his voice, though there was always a certain… distance.
He had always protected her. But when had she let herself get caught between these two men?
Christopher studied her shifting expression, his lips curving slightly. He wasn't in a rush. He simply observed. The hesitation in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.
"So I was right."
His voice was deep, carrying a hint of amusement.
"You still rely on him a lot, don't you?"
"You don't understand anything."
Serena's voice dropped, a defensive glint flashing in her eyes.
"You have no right to interfere in my life."
"No right?"
Christopher arched an eyebrow, stepping even closer. The distance between them shrank, his breath brushing lightly against her forehead.
"Then who does? Cedric Lawrence? Or do you not even know what you want yourself?"
Serena took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. She stepped back, reestablishing a safe distance.
"Christopher Cyrus, what do you want from me?"
He didn't answer immediately. He simply looked at her for a long moment. His gaze, dark and unreadable, made her feel like she was standing at the edge of a dangerous game—one where she didn't know what the stakes were.
"I want you to remember that I'm not someone who gives up easily."
His voice was low, yet each word carved itself into her mind.
[...]
That night, Serena stood by her bedroom window, looking out at the vast garden below. The streetlights cast fragmented shadows through the trees. The cold night breeze carried the faint scent of jasmine.
"Ting! Ting!"
Her phone vibrated.
"Come outside. I'm waiting for you."
It was a message from Cedric Lawrence.
Her heart clenched.
For some reason, she felt like a storm was coming—one she could no longer avoid.
[...]
At a small café near the Egbert family's mansion, Cedric had already been sitting there, maintaining his usual composed demeanor. When he saw Serena enter, he stood up and pulled out a chair for her.
"Did you need to see me for something?" Serena sat down, her voice tinged with a trace of caution.
Cedric looked at her, his gaze gentle yet laced with seriousness. "You're in trouble, aren't you?"
She stiffened. "No, it's nothing."
"Then what are those wounds on your hands?" His voice was calm, but the concern in his tone was unmistakable.
Serena lowered her head, unsure of how to respond. She didn't want to drag him into this, yet she also couldn't keep hiding it.
"Serena, you know me. Whether you tell me or not, I won't stand by if someone is hurting you." His voice was soft but resolute.
She lifted her gaze to meet his. In his eyes, she saw that familiar determination—the kind that had always made her feel safe. But this time, she wasn't sure if she could keep running away.
"Chri… Christopher..." she murmured hesitantly. "He knows."
Cedric's brows furrowed. "Christopher Cyrus? He came looking for you?"
She nodded, her fingers unconsciously tightening. "He won't give up. He's… trying to force his way into my life again."
A chilling glint flashed through Cedric's eyes. He remained silent for a moment before gently placing his hand over hers, as if trying to offer her strength.
"If you don't want to be involved with him, I'll help you." His voice was steady, unwavering. "But you have to tell me the truth. Has he done anything to you?"
Serena shook her head. "No, he hasn't. But… he knows too much, and I don't know how to face him."
Cedric gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, his gaze darkening. "You don't have to face him alone. I will always be here."
Such simple words, yet they made her heart tremble slightly. She wanted to believe him, wanted to rely on him like before. But deep inside, she knew—Christopher Cyrus was not someone who could be easily cast aside.
A confrontation was inevitable, and she… was at the center of it.
Late at night, Serena drifted into sleep, but her mind wandered back to distant childhood memories.
She found herself reliving those carefree days of youth, when she and Christopher were nothing more than two innocent children. They ran barefoot across the grassy backyard, their laughter echoing beneath the clear blue sky. Back then, Christopher Cyrus always trailed behind her, arms outstretched to catch her whenever she stumbled.
"Serena, don't run so fast! You're going to fall!" His childish voice, full of worry yet laced with tenderness, rang in her ears.
She turned back, grinning brightly. "You can only tell me that if you catch me first!"
But before she could run far, she tripped over a rock and tumbled onto the ground. The pain stung, and she almost cried, but before the tears could fall, a pair of small, thin arms caught her.
"Does it hurt?" Young Christopher sat beside her, gently blowing on her scraped knee.
"Are you scared of the pain? Let me bandage it for you."
"Shhh, don't cry. Christopher is here, so it won't hurt anymore."
"Do you want some candy? I have strawberry-flavored ones in my pocket."
She looked at him, an indescribable warmth rising in her heart. At that moment, she had thought—As long as he's here, I will never be afraid of anything.
But the beautiful memories faded, replaced by the present-day Christopher's cold yet gentle gaze. She jolted awake, her heart in turmoil. The childhood friend who once protected her had become someone entirely different.
But had he really changed? Or deep down, was he still the same Christopher—the boy who had always silently shielded her?
Somewhere else…
Christopher Cyrus lay on his bed, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting soft shadows over his striking yet somber features. In his hands was an old photo album, its pages slightly yellowed with time. A few strawberry candies rested beside it.
He flipped through the pages slowly, gazing at the childhood photos of himself and Serena Egbert.
In every picture, young Serena was smiling radiantly, as if playfully teasing him through time. Back then, she was always chattering beside him like a cheerful little bird, always telling him that she would wait for him to return.
"When will you come back?"
"I don't know…"
"Then when you do, you have to tell me!"
"I'll come pick you up!"
Memories surged back…
That day, Christopher had been bullied by the neighborhood kids. They shoved him to the ground, snatched his favorite book, and tore it apart. He could only grit his teeth, enduring their jeers.
"What are you doing to my little kitten?"
A crisp, youthful voice rang out. Serena stood before him, arms spread wide as if shielding him.
Her small figure blocked his view, stirring something deep within him. He thought—
"Serena? Why is she here?"
"Don't try to protect me. I don't want that."
Christopher's voice was cold. "This has nothing to do with you."
He clenched his jaw, lowering his head. He didn't want Serena to see him like this. But she remained standing there, unwavering. She didn't cry or sulk like other children. Instead, she simply smiled, her emerald eyes shimmering.
"What are you talking about? Serena doesn't understand." She tilted her head, innocent yet determined.
Christopher fell silent. Emotions surged within him, but all he could manage was a mumbled response. "How can you be so dumb?"
That was the moment Christopher realized—there was someone who was willing to protect him, to stand beside him when he was weak.
He chuckled softly, though his eyes stung. His grip on the album tightened as he whispered into the darkness:
"I've loved you since that day… But you broke your promise, Serena. You said you would come pick me up."