Chapter 3

Milo was about to speak, but Dorothy slipped out from behind him and hooked her arm through his.

"Abigail, I heard you lost your memory. I've been so worried. You and Sean are still SO lovey-dovey."

Yeah—dripping with sarcasm.

My breath hitched when I saw the marks on her neck.

When the party finally wrapped, Sean got an urgent call and had to head to the company. He told Milo to take me home.

But the second we got in the car, Dorothy grabbed her head.

"My blood sugar's dropping. Take me to the hospital."

I was gonna call a cab and leave, but they dragged me along anyway.

The doctor just told Dorothy to go home and rest, but she frowned, all delicate about it.

"Milo, what if I need a transfusion later? I heard rare blood types are hard to find."

The second she said that, Milo grabbed my wrist.

"You've got the same blood type. Give some so we can store it for her."

I just stared at him, stunned, and tried to pull away.

He frowned, already annoyed.

"Ever since you came back, you've been picking on Dorothy. What's wrong with donating some blood? Abigail Ashton, how can you be this cold?"

His grip tightened—no way out.

All I could do was stand there, pale, while he told the doctor to draw bag after bag of my blood.

Dorothy watched with a smug smile, red lips curved like she'd already won.

Milo kept going, like I was the problem. "Wouldn't it have been easier if you just listened? Why make a scene? Dorothy's your sister too. Stop being so petty. It's just blood—you're not gonna die."

Like he couldn't see it—my lips going white, my body swaying, about to drop.

Then—

a punch.

Milo hit the floor.

Sean stood there, face dark, eyes ice-cold.

"Milo. This is how you take care of my fiancée?"

He lifted me mid-sentence, set me down in a chair—gentle, like I might break. Then he grabbed Milo, already swelling up, and dragged him into the stairwell.

Dorothy snatched her bag. "It's late. I'm heading home." She rushed off.

I slipped into the stairwell too, unnoticed.

The air between the brothers? Razor sharp.

Milo muttered, "Abigail's my fiancée. I can make her do whatever I want. You're the weird one—don't tell me you've actually fallen for her."

He missed the storm building in Sean's eyes. Of course he did. And kept going.

"You've never even been with a girl. Abigail's boring—you wouldn't like her. I've already had my fill with her. Go find someone 'new'—"

Big mistake.

Sean's kick slammed into him, sending him straight into the wall.

Milo folded, clutching his chest, coughing.

Next second—his throat got locked in Sean's grip. He couldn't move.

"Milo. Have I been too easy on you? This how you talk about a girl? What does that make you?"

His grip tightened. "I've been covering for you. Cleaning up your mess. If you don't like it, go tell her the truth."

Milo's face went purple as he choked out, "I get it... I spoke without thinking. But you still need to stay away from her. It'll mess with your reputation. You don't have to be all over her just because of me."

Just like that—it was settled.

But something flashed in Sean's eyes.

Not normal.

***

After we got home, Sean made chicken soup.

He watched me finish it, then pulled me in and lay down with me.

The guy who said he wouldn't get close?

Yeah. He was holding me while we fell asleep.

Like his brother's warning meant nothing.

That night, I dreamed about the day Milo's enemies grabbed me.

He'd always been reckless, ticking people off like it was a hobby.

He said he'd pick me up for dinner. I waited an hour.

Instead, his enemies showed up.

They dragged me to some abandoned factory.

Their hands were everywhere. Their breath—disgusting—brushed my skin.

The one who saved me?

Sean.

As for Milo? He was busy accompanying Dorothy at some piano competition.

Back then, he told me, "She's your sister. I'm helping you keep the family close."

And I actually bought that.

I jolted awake, soaked in cold sweat, tears running down my face.

Sean wasn't even fully awake before he pulled me in. "Babe, don't be scared. I'm here."

I stared at his half-awake face, a little out of it.

Before, he wouldn't even look at me—like I was something dirty.

Now? This softness came way too easy.

'Or is he just trying to teach Milo a lesson?'