Chapter 6 ( The man at the Door )

When Ethan woke up, Lily was sleeping on his arm.

For a moment, the pain in his shoulder faded into nothing. The hospital room was quiet, bathed in pale morning light, and she looked peaceful in a way that tightened his chest. Her lashes rested softly against her cheeks, her breathing slow and steady. A few strands of her hair had slipped loose, falling across her face as if they belonged there.

Without thinking, he lifted his hand and gently tucked the hair behind her ear with his finger, careful—so careful—not to wake her. She was beautiful like this. Not just in appearance, but in her vulnerability, in the way she trusted him enough to sleep so close.

Her eyes fluttered open anyway.

The first thing she did was look at him.

“Are you alright?” she asked immediately, concern filling her voice as if she hadn’t just woken from fear and exhaustion.

Ethan smiled faintly and looked away, hiding the truth behind habit. “I’m fine,” he said. The words felt thin, but the moment was too fragile to burden her with more pain.

Before she could press further, the door opened quietly.

Her father stepped inside, his sharp gaze taking in everything at once—how close they were, how her head still rested against Ethan’s arm, how his hand lingered near her hair. His expression tightened with something unreadable.

“Lily,” he said gently, “can you wait outside for a moment?”

She hesitated. “Dad—”

“Just a moment.”

Reluctantly, an employee wheeled her out of the room. The silence that followed felt heavier than the wound in Ethan’s shoulder.

“I saw you,” Mr. Harrison said after a pause. “You’re too close to my daughter.”

“I never intended—”

He raised a hand. “I don’t want this to continue. I’ll give you anything—money, security, a future you can’t imagine. Just leave her life.”

“I don’t want any of it,” Ethan said firmly.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “She will never know about this conversation.”

Ethan swallowed, then spoke his only condition. “Let her try to stand again. Don’t take that hope away from her.”

A long silence stretched between them. Finally, Mr. Harrison nodded. “Fine.”

When Lily returned, she carried a small breakfast tray, her expression soft and hopeful.

“I brought this for you,” she said, smiling shyly.

Her father left without another word.

Later, the doctor explained Ethan’s discharge. “You need rest,” he warned.

Lily looked at him anxiously. “You’re coming back to the mansion,” she said—not a question, but a need.

He nodded. “Yes.”

The drive home was quiet. She watched him from the corner of her eye, as if afraid he might disappear if she stopped looking. When the mansion came into view, she exhaled slowly, relief and fear tangled together.

Everything felt fragile. Temporary.

Then the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” Ethan said, moving slowly toward the door.

When he opened it, a man stood there—tall, composed, his eyes cold and calculating.

“Who are you?” Ethan asked.

“I’m the owner of this house,” the man replied calmly.

Behind him, Lily gasped.

Her hands clenched the armrests of her wheelchair. Her face drained of color, her body stiffening as panic seized her. Her breathing became shallow, erratic.

Ethan rushed to her immediately, crouching in front of her. “Lily,” he said gently, gripping her hands. “Look at me. Stay with me.”

Her eyes were locked past him, filled with terror.

“Who is he?” Ethan asked quietly.

Her lips trembled. The word barely escaped her mouth.

“Killer… murderer.”

Ethan’s blood ran cold.

He turned back toward the door, reaching out to slam it shut—

But the man’s hand was already on the frame.

And he smiled.