HER ~LIFE ~IN ~A ~NUTSHELL

Chapter 11

Naomi's Mansion

"What's that look NAMI, are you scared of me?" Lewiston's voice came out cold and restrained.

Naomi scoffed and gazed at him.

"Scared—of you? That's not the right word to use lewis, I'm not scared of you, I want to kill you, I want to see your corpse, I want so many bad things to happen to you." She lied through clenched teeth.

"Too bad none of them would happen anytime soon—," Lewiston paused as his cigarette dropped on the floor, his shoes pressing it down.

He suddenly started moving towards her, steps slow and dangerously calculating. She moved back with each step he took, she had even forgotten she didn't close the door, so she was unknowingly going outside

Before she her legs could move out, lewiston held her with an hand and closed the door with the other.

Naomi tried to move away from him, but Lewiston was faster.

He grabbed her waist and pulled her back, his breath warm against her neck.

“Don’t run,” he said quietly, deadly calm.

“You know I hate that.”

Naomi swallowed hard. “Lewiston… let go.”

He didn’t.

Instead, he slid one hand up her side, slow… deliberate… like he owned her body. Naomi’s breath hitched. She hated it. She hated that her body reacted at all.

Lewiston smirked when he felt her shiver.

“See? You still respond to me.”

“Stop,” she whispered, pushing at his chest—but her voice shook, giving her away.

Lewiston pinned her back firmly against the wall. He leaned in, lips brushing her jaw, then her neck, tracing the old places he knew too well. Naomi clenched her teeth, trying not to react, but a soft breath escaped her.

Lewiston chuckled darkly. "I knew it".

His hand traveled down her waist, pulling her closer. Naomi pressed her palms against his chest, breathing fast, confused with herself.

"Lewiston... s-stop..." she stuttered.

"You don't want me to," he murmured.

For a second, her body betrayed her again—leaning in instead of away. She almost allowed him, almost before she snapped back.

Naomi shoved him harder this time.

"Enough!"

He stepped back only an inch, eyes cold but amused.

"You think you can push me?" he asked quietly.

Naomi wiped her lips, her voice shaking with anger and confusion.

“I don’t think I can push you, I will” She breathed.

His expression changed instantly. The playfulness evaporated. His jaw tightened, eyes sharpening like a blade.

“Right?” he repeated.

“And listen to me Carl, believe this or not, lily ain't your daughter so you have no rights over her, she's my daughter, alone. Killing perilla is a mistake you shouldn't have committed—,” She spat angrily at his face.

Naomi smirked and stepped close to him a bit, studying his expression.

Her voice was sharp and clear. “The only people that truly deserved killing perilla is me, my mother and Lily's dad—gerard” She dropped and his expression changed quickly.

Lewiston froze. Hearing her say it—that Gerard was Lily's father—did something to his chest. Lewiston stepped toward her again, slower this time. She moved back fast.

“You think I’ll let anyone touch Lily and walk away?” he growled.

Naomi’s breath trembled, not with fear but with suppressed anger and annoyance.

“But killing her—Lewiston, that wasn’t your job. You didn’t have to go that far, lily ain’t your daughter, don’t you understand—fuck!”

Lewiston’s eyes darkened even more.

“I don’t do half measures,” he whispered.

“Not when it comes to my blood, when I say she’s my daughter, then she’s my daughter.”

Naomi’s heart dropped.

“Your… blood?”

Lewiston leaned closer, lips near her ear.

“Yes,” he said. “Lily is mine. And I will kill again if I have to.”

Naomi stared at him, shocked, shaking, breath unsteady.

The air between them felt heavy, dangerous… burning.

~~~

[•Caramel’s Apartment•]

Caramel's house was a large one, she came from a rich family normally, but she ran away from home when her parents decided to sell her to someone old enough to father her all in the name of marriage.

Her family had money, reputation, influence—

but no warmth.

No love and no slight hesitation when they decided to marry her off. And when they broke the news to her that night that was the night everything in her snapped.

her room, her mind drifted back to that moment—

the beginning of everything.

Back then, Silas was staying in the house opposite theirs—his aunt’s home.

They loved him, treated him like their own, and Silas...,

Silas lived like someone who owed nobody anything.

Caramel used to watch him from her window.

He laughed freely, spoke boldly and walked around like the world had no chains for him.

‘If only I could live like that, she had always thought.’

If only I could breathe like he does.

Then came the memory—

the night she first approached him.

Her parents had just informed her about the arranged marriage.

Her hands were trembling as she sneaked out of her house, clutching a small bag.

Her heart felt like it was being squeezed.

Silas was outside, sitting on the hood of his aunt’s car, casually chewing gum and scrolling on his phone.

He noticed her immediately.

His eyes narrowed, but not unkindly.

More curious than anything else.

“You look like you’re about to faint,” he said.

Caramel swallowed hard. “I… need help.”

Silas stood up slowly, studying her face.

He wasn’t loud, wasn’t dramatic.

He just stepped closer and asked softly:

"What did they do now"?

Her eyes filled with tears. She couldn’t answer.

Silas didn’t wait for details.

He just reached for her wrist gently—not pulling her, just steadying her—and said:

“Come with me.”

He hid her behind his aunt’s house that night.

Found her blankets.

Gave her bread and water.

Let her rest her head against the wall while he sat beside her, keeping guard even though he pretended not to care.

And at dawn—

when her parents were screaming her name across the estate—

Silas helped her escape completely.

No hesitation.

No questions.

No fear.

Just that calm voice saying:

“You don’t have to live there anymore.”

Back in the present, Caramel blinked through the memory, her chest tight.

She had always thought Silas was just reckless, carefree, stubborn.

But he was the reason she had a life at all.

The reason she got away.

The reason she could breathe.

And maybe…

that was why seeing him with Bet hurt the way it did.

She lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling, the past and the present mixing in her mind until it hurt.

Silas.

Her best friend.

The boy who dragged her out of hell without asking for anything in return.

The boy who made freedom look easy when her own life felt like a cage.

Everyone thought she protected Silas—because she was loud, tough, sharp-mouthed, and always ready to fight.

But the truth?

It was Silas who protected her first.

Silas who saved her.

Silas who made her feel safe even without trying.

And now... now she had the one feeling she never expected or wanted to have.

She whispered it to herself, barely breathing the words:

"I shouldn't like him this much..."

She shut her eyes tight.

"I wasn't supposed to feel anything for him. Not like this."

She pressed a hand to her chest, like she was trying to hold something inside.

"Why him? Why now? And why does it hurt knowing he... doesn't care?"

Because that's what she believed.

That Silas didn't notice her the way she noticed him. Didn't think about her the way she thought about him.

Didn't get affected by her the way she was affected by him.

She laughed bitterly under her breath.

"Idiot... I'm such an idiot."