Chapter 3

"I'm on my period... Not a good time," she said, trying to brush him off. She really was. Found out while she was showering. But Liam didn't buy it. He stared at her with narrowed eyes, clearly thinking it was just an excuse. "Seriously?" His lips curled up slightly, impossible to tell what he was thinking. "Dead serious." Her face was all sincerity. Liam went quiet for a beat, then suddenly chuckled, an amused glint in his eyes. "Celeste, it's been three years and you're still so naïve... Do you think I'm that easy to get rid of?" Celeste was speechless. So now he assumed she was lying? "You're smarter now," he said, tracing her collarbone with a finger, slowly moving down. His touch made her tense up instantly. Was this guy... serious? Psycho! Staring up at Liam from this close, Celeste caught the movement of his hand heading somewhere way out of line. His low, velvety voice brushed against her ear. "One quick check and I'll know for sure..." Her whole body went rigid. Just then, the sound of wheelchair wheels scraping the floor cut through the air-sharp and clear. Celeste instantly realized what was happening. Liam reacted faster, springing off the bed and hurriedly straightening his clothes. Right on cue, his eyes met those of a man sitting in a wheelchair. As Ethan took in the scene-the tossed-up room, Liam clumsily buttoning up, Celeste sitting up from the bed-his expression darkened, like a thundercloud ready to burst. "What do you think you're doing?" Ethan's voice was like ice, layered and cold, enough to send chills down anyone's spine. Spending every day in isolation, shut in with a broken body-you'd be cold too. Ice cave vibes? Nailed it. "B-Bro... What are you doing here?" Liam stammered. He thought Ethan was locked in his study all day. That's the only reason he dared sneak into the master bedroom to mess with Celeste at all. "This is my room." Ethan rolled his wheelchair forward, every inch he moved bringing with it a biting frost. But as intimidating as that was, someone else clearly had it worse. Liam had always been scared of his older brother. Back in the day, Ethan moved with sharp precision, known for his ruthlessness and record-breaking achievements. They even called him the "Cold-Blooded Devil." If not for that tragic accident during a training exercise, Ethan would still be one of the big names in Yannburgh. Even now-paralyzed, stuck in a chair-he still radiated that same intense presence. "I'll ask again. What exactly were you two doing in here?" His voice, still icy, now held a clear note of impatience. "It's not what it looks like, I swear!" Liam's weak protest only made things worse. In front of Ethan, he turned into a total coward. Celeste couldn't help but sneer inwardly. Here he was acting all dominant with her, but in front of Ethan, he shriveled up like a scared little pup? Then Ethan's eyes, guided by the light in the room, fell on her. Her delicate, flawless face. The few years of prison had left her slimmer, more fragile-collarbones prominent. "If he won't talk, then you explain," Ethan said, voice cutting like frost, completely devoid of warmth. Celeste froze. He wanted her to speak? But what was there for her to say?