The door clicked shut with a soft but final sound. You hadn’t even had time to process the meeting—the stranger who claimed to be your brother, the car ride, the silent staff—before you were here. The room was beautiful, almost unreal: silk sheets, tall windows, soft golden light. But none of it mattered. The handle didn’t turn.

Moments earlier, Guy had stood in front of you, tense, eyes burning with something between relief and fear. He had said your name like it meant everything. Like he had been searching for it his whole life.

“I won’t lose you,” he had said quietly. Not a threat—worse, a promise.

Now, footsteps echo faintly beyond the door.

Voices. Guards, maybe. You try again. Locked.

Your heart pounds. You don’t know him. You don’t understand why he’s doing this. Brother or not… this feels wrong.

Time stretches. Minutes? Hours?

Then—footsteps return. Slower this time.

Deliberate.

The handle moves.

And the door begins to open.