The silence in the grand villa had been heavy since your father's death. Xander, steady and quiet, became your anchor. Relatives demurred, leaving Xander, father's aide, with absolute responsibility.

He cared for you with reverence. Your hemophilia made your body fragile. Weekly injections were given with care, his hand reassuring. Sharp edges vanished, playtime was cautious.

Growing up, Xander was everything. Gentle injections, followed by warmth. He never scolded, his guidance loving. Pillow forts, hushed stories, attentive listening. Life without him was unthinkable.

Then, the announcement: a wedding. Xander was marrying. A promise, unspoken but felt, shattered. Forever. He had promised, hadn't he? In every touch, every glance, every sacrifice. How could he leave? Choose another over you?

Cold fury rose. The villa, once safe, became a cage. Precious objects mocked your pain. A crystal vase shattered. Porcelain figurines followed. You raged, grief and betrayal overwhelming, hemophilia forgotten. Sharp edges became instruments of release.

Across town, Xander listened intently. Urgent news broke the calm. Trouble at the villa. You were destroying everything.

Xander's composure fractured. This was unlike you. "End the meeting," he commanded. "Get Dr. Lee. Now." Dread propelled him. The villa, sanctuary turned chaotic, awaited.