So be it

Liora lay against the hospital bed, her head sinking into the pillow as streaks of sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting golden lines across the sterile white sheets. Even after a peaceful sleep, her body felt drained, and her mind refused to rest.

Something was missing from the yesterday night. The Fragments of last night hovered at the edge of her memory, elusive and hazy. She reached for them, but the moment she tried to grasp them, they shattered—slipping through her thoughts like ripples on undisturbed water, fading before she could make sense of them.

She remembered the club. The room. The pole. The unfamiliar faces. The suffocating tension in the air. And then—The doorframe.

A dull ache pulsed at her forehead as if her body was trying to remind her of something she couldn't quite recall. Liora's fingers reached up, brushing against the bandage that covered her skin. She hit her head on the door-like frame, but what happened afterwards? It looked like that memory was hiding behind the secret door. Everything beyond that was swallowed in an eerie fog. 

'Did I black out?' Her gaze flickered to the side. It was drawn to the figure sitting by her bed..... Nova.

His name settled in her chest like an anchor, grounding her. He sat on the chair which was placed beside her bed, silently watching her, his elbows resting on his knees. His face was unreadable, and his silver-grey eyes reflected..... kindness? Empathy? Or guilt, perhaps? How long had he been there, waiting for her to wake? Liora had so many questions swirling in her mind. She didn't know where to start but had to begin somewhere to connect the missing dots.

Her lips parted to get some answers. Her voice sounded hoarse from disuse. "Why did they say they were your friends?" Her fingers clutched at the sheets, uncertainty creeping into her voice. "And why did you come late?"

Donovan's posture didn't shift, but his gaze sharpened, locking onto hers.

Liora felt tension in the air immediately. Her fingers traced the bandage on her forehead again, realization slowly settling in.

She shifted, this time sitting up straighter, her shoulders stiffening. Her breath quickened as she glanced down at her hospital clothes. Her white shirt, that man...he violently ripped it apart. She swallowed hard, her hands trembling, her eyes wavering as she looked back at him.

"What happened last night?" she continued, her voice quieter this time, carrying a nervous edge as if afraid of what she might hear. "I-I remember trying to get away… and then I hit my head." She swallowed hard. "But after that, it's just—"

"Blank?" Donovan finished for her.

His dark grey eyes darkened, shadows flitting through them like ghosts of his thoughts. His jaw tensed, a telltale sign of unspoken rage, but his expression remained unreadable.

Liora noticed how his fingers curled into a slow fist on his lap, his knuckles turning white. He was holding something back.

"N-Nova," she murmured, her voice softer, almost fragile. "Tell me the truth."

Donovan took a deep breath, tightening his grip on his knees. He didn't know what had happened either, but he needed answers from those lowlifes. However, there were some important things that needed to be addressed first. Then he turned to Liora and asked, his voice calm and steady, "Do you want to punish them?"

Liora blinked at him, confused, taken aback by the weight of his words. "Punish them?" she whispered, not understanding what Donovan meant.

Was he asking her how to punish them? 'Them' means those men from the Twilight Zone?

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out, the confusion clouded her face. Donovan chose to speak to give Liora more insight.

"The Twilight Zone manager screwed up," Donovan continued, his voice dangerously calm, but his eyes said otherwise. "He assumed you were the pole dancer hired for the bachelor party."

She felt her breath catch and her body tense as if it had just been doused in ice water.

'No!'

"He made the mistake of trusting the woman who was actually hired by Roland. Instead of correcting the manager....., 'THAT WOMEN.....' Liora's fingers dug into the fabric of her hospital blanket, clutching it as if it could shield her from the words sinking into her bones.

Donovan's tone remained steady, but his body told another story. His fingers twitched, his shoulders rigid with restrained fury. "Let you take her place. She enjoyed replacing you without consideration for what might happen to you, and discarded you into that room with those garbage bins."

A cold shudder rippled through Liora's body. She couldn't breathe as confusion consumed her. She could not understand. The whole situation could have been avoided only if that woman said something. That woman… could have stopped it. She could have spoken up. But she hadn't. Why?

Liora shook her head slowly as if rejecting reality. "Why?" she whispered. Her vision blurred slightly, but she refused to let the tears fall. "Why are women always like this to me?"

'Why Silvia? Why Rihanna? Why a complete stranger?'

"What have I done to them, Nova?" Her voice was shaking now, raw with something close to desperation. "Why do they hate me?"

Donovan's mouth tightened into a thin line when he saw Liora in a vulnerable place, causing his heart to ache. The anguish of betrayal was seen in Liora's eyes and voice. What words should he choose to make her feel better, and how should he express them to give her confidence? It was all his fault. If only he had gotten Liora's number from the very start, everything could have been avoided. However, right now, it wasn't about blaming himself. It was about caring for Liora. And nurture Liora's heart, which has been hurt by everyone.

"Liora," he murmured, voice steady despite the storm in his eyes.

She turned to him to search for answers only to hear him say, "You are light," he said simply, his gaze piercing. "And darkness cannot stand the presence of light."

Her breath hitched, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. She tried to understand his words. Did he call her light? Is she really? But then, why was she called Pest? Gold Digger? Or a Whore until now? She wanted to believe it, but all she felt was the deep, crushing ache in her chest.

Donovan moved closer to her, standing up from his place before he could stop himself. He pulled her into his arms. One hand pressed against her back while the other cradled the back of her head, and his fingers tangled gently in her hair. His grip was both strong and protective, as though he were shielding her from every nightmare that had ever haunted her.

She did not move away from him. For some unknown reason, Donovan had a calming effect on her disturbed mind. Why? She clung to him without hesitation, and her sobs muffled against the firm plane of his chest.

"You think you are hated," he whispered, his voice low, soothing. "But you are envied. They despise you because you have something they never will."

She sniffled, her fingers still gripping onto him. "What do I have?" she whispered against his chest.

Donovan slowly leaned back just enough to look at her.

"You walk into a room, and it changes, Liora. Not because you are loud, not because you try—but because your presence carries a light they cannot mimic. You are the quiet fire in a frozen world, the sunrise they can never hold. Your kindness doesn't shout—it hums, soft and steady, and it unnerves them. Because people like them… they live behind masks, chasing power, obsessed with image. But you? You are real. You glow from within. And it terrifies them—because no matter how much they take, they will never be what you are: untouched by their poison. You are truly a princess of heart."

For a moment, there was only silence. Something shifted in the air between them, invisible but undeniable. Liora looked away abruptly, her face turning pink.

"You called me 'princess'," she mumbled, embarrassed, trying to focus on the blanket on her lap. While Donovan pressed his lips together, suppressing the smirk that threatened to rise.

"Because you are m—" He stopped himself. He almost said it. My princess.

His fingers flexed slightly before he exhaled; reeling himself back, he sat on the bed closer to Liora, holding both her hands in his.

"I have captured everyone responsible for sending you to the hospital."

She turned back to him, her eyes wide. "You did?"

"Yes," Donovan confirmed, voice like steel. "And I want you to decide their punishment."

Liora gazed at him for some time with a surprised expression. Why was he aiding her? Was it due to his guilt? Did he feel accountable for what had happened to her? She had never encountered this situation before. She had come to Valtham to seek vengeance against Sven. To seek those responsible for her father's demise. It took her years to determine what punishment she would inflict on Sven. But those men? She had only met them the day before. How could she be expected to decide their punishment so quickly? She doesn't want to forgive them or wish to make anything easy for them. They must reflect on their actions.

Her mind wandered to Roland. How he deceived her during a game and numerous other times. The sensation of her shirt ripping made her uncomfortable once more. She gripped Donovan's hand firmly, which Donovan observed. A sharp breath left her lips. Her gaze immediately flickered downward.

"I want them to reflect on their behaviour. To send them in a place where they can learn manners to treat women with respect." When those words left Liroa's lips, a big smirk appeared on Donovan's face. Here, he was contemplating all possible ways to hurt them, to make them scream, and to make them beg for Liora's forgiveness for their sins. However, his Liora was being so kind to them.

If she wants them to reflect on their behaviour, he will make it come true. A perfect punishment which the Traid family is well known for.

"So be it!" Donovan said confidently.