Unwelcome Visitors

Anna jolted awake, her head pounding as a deafening alarm echoed through the penthouse. The shrill sound sliced through her hangover, sending a sharp pang of discomfort through her skull.

From the floor, Lucas groaned, rubbing his temples before his eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, shit." He scrambled to his feet, his movements urgent. "You need to get up. That alarm means your family is probably visiting your apartment."

Anna blinked, still sluggish from sleep and the lingering haze of alcohol. "What?" Her voice came out hoarse as she pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to soothe the pounding in her head.

Lucas shot her a look of exasperation. "Your family. They're here. And they're expecting to find you in your apartment on the fifth floor."

That snapped Anna awake.

Her eyes widened as she processed his words. Last night had been a blur of laughter, deep conversations, and far too much alcohol. They had polished off two bottles of wine, then moved on to beer—five bottles each, to be exact. Somewhere between reminiscing and unraveling old wounds, they had lost track of time, drinking until exhaustion took over. Neither of them had gone home.

And now, her family was here.

Panic surged through her as she threw the blanket off and tried to steady herself. "Shit. What do I do?"

Lucas was already moving, grabbing her arm and pulling her up. "You need to get dressed and get down there before they start asking questions."

Anna swallowed hard, the weight of the situation crashing down on her. Her secret penthouse—Shane's secret penthouse—had remained hidden from her family for so long. If they found out she had been lying about where she lived, it could unravel everything.

And something told her that was the last thing she needed right now.

Anna quickly changed clothes, not even bothering to freshen up. Once she was ready, Lucas guided her to the fifth floor, his grip firm yet steady as she fought to shake off the lingering effects of last night's drinking. Every step sent a sharp throb through her head, but the urgency of the situation pushed her forward.

At the elevator, he leaned in and whispered, "Apartment 507. The passcode is 0726. Don't forget."

Anna frowned, her sluggish mind trying to process the numbers. "0726… Got it."

Lucas exhaled, glancing around the hallway before stepping back. "I'll head back to the penthouse. It's better if they don't know we were together last night."

She nodded, understanding the unspoken weight of his words. If her family found out Shane had spent the night drinking with Lucas, there would be questions—questions neither of them wanted to answer. She didn't want to drag him into whatever storm was waiting beyond that door.

"Be careful," he added before turning on his heel and heading back to the elevator.

Anna took a deep breath and punched in the passcode. The door unlocked with a soft click, and as she stepped inside, she was met with an unfamiliar yet oddly fitting sight.

The apartment was clean, almost meticulously so, with a minimalist design that contrasted starkly with the wealth of the Tiu family. The walls were painted in soft neutral tones, and the furniture was simple—practical rather than extravagant. There were no signs of luxury, no high-end decorations, no personal trinkets that screamed of privilege.

It was just a one-bedroom unit, stripped of any indulgence, as if its owner had been determined to keep it as ordinary as possible.

Anna ran her fingers over the sleek yet unembellished countertop, a strange feeling settling in her chest. Why had Shane gone through so much trouble to make this place look like it belonged to someone else?

It was as if she had wanted to disappear—like this apartment was meant to be a hiding place rather than a home.

Anna frowned, trying to make sense of it all, but her thoughts were abruptly cut off by the sharp chime of the doorbell. The sound sent a jolt through her, pulling her back to the present.

Her heart pounded as she turned toward the door, a sudden wave of unease washing over her. She hesitated for a moment before cautiously checking the peephole.

The sight on the other side made her stomach twist.

Patricia.

She stood there, her arms crossed, an impatient scowl on her perfectly made-up face. Even through the small lens, Anna could see the thinly veiled irritation in her expression.

Taking a slow breath, Anna straightened her posture, steeling herself.

Whatever Patricia wanted—it wasn't good.

Anna finally opened the door, but before she could even react, Patricia shoved it wider and strode inside without so much as a greeting. The sharp click of her heels echoed against the apartment's minimalist interior, filling the otherwise quiet space with an air of authority and intrusion.

Anna barely had time to process her entrance before Patricia turned to face her, arms crossed, a look of thinly veiled disapproval on her face.

"Your father called me last night," she said, her voice cool and clipped. "Asking where you were."

Anna blinked, her mind still sluggish from the hangover. Her head throbbed slightly as she tried to keep up. "What?"

Patricia let out an exasperated sigh, her sharp gaze sweeping over Anna's disheveled appearance with barely concealed disdain. "You didn't answer your phone, and he was getting impatient. He expected you to be here." She gestured vaguely around the apartment before narrowing her eyes. "But clearly, you weren't—judging by the stench of alcohol clinging to you."

Anna's stomach churned, but she forced herself to remain composed. "And what did you tell him?"

Patricia arched a perfectly sculpted brow. "That you were probably out drinking and being reckless, as usual." Her tone dripped with condescension. "I covered for you, Shane, but don't expect that generosity to last forever."

"So, should I say thank you then?" Anna blurted out, her words slightly slurred from the lingering effects of alcohol. 

Patricia scoffed, eyeing her with disdain. "No. I don't need your half-assed gratitude. Your father wants you back in the house. So get yourself together before I drag your sorry ass into the car myself."

Anna let out a dry chuckle, leaning against the doorframe. "No thanks. I'd rather stay here than be in that house that feels like a prison." She didn't see the point in staying at the mansion when everyone there either hurt Shane or schemed to push her out of the Tiu empire.

Patricia's lips curled into a smirk, but there was something sharp in her gaze. "So, you're just going to give up? Not going to fight for your place as the Tiu heir?"

Anna met her stare without hesitation. "I never said that." She straightened slightly, the weight of her words steady despite her exhaustion. "Staying here doesn't mean I'm backing down. It doesn't mean I'm giving up what's mine."

A slow, knowing smile crept across Patricia's face. "So, you do know what's at stake."

Anna lifted her chin, her voice steady and unwavering. "Of course, I do. And in the end, whether you like it or not—I'm still a Tiu."

Patricia let out a sharp, mocking laugh, her eyes gleaming with disdain. "Yes, you're a Tiu. A useless one."

Anna didn't know what to feel when Patricia called her useless. All her life, she had done everything she could to be anything but that. She had sacrificed her dreams, worked tirelessly to keep their lives afloat, and yet, none of it seemed to matter. Now, standing in Shane's shoes, she was being called the very thing she had spent years fighting against.

Patricia turned on her heel, striding toward the door with the air of someone who had already won. But just as she reached for the handle, she hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. A smirk curled at the corner of her lips, cold and condescending.

"Stay here as long as you like," she said, her voice dripping with false generosity. "In fact, you better not return to the estate. You don't belong there."

With that, she pulled the door open and stepped out, letting it slam shut behind her, leaving Anna standing alone in the quiet apartment—her fists clenched, her chest tight with unspoken defiance.

–

Lucas watched her closely as she stepped back into the penthouse, her expression distant, her movements slower than usual. Concern flickered in his eyes.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice softer this time.

Anna let out a breath, running a hand through her hair before slumping onto the couch. "Yeah… I guess so," she muttered, though the weight in her tone said otherwise. Her gaze remained unfocused, locked onto some invisible point in the distance. "My father was looking for me. That's why Patricia showed up."

Lucas frowned, leaning against the counter. "And?"

Anna blinked slowly, as if piecing her thoughts together. "And I told her I'm not going back to the mansion."

Lucas's brows lifted slightly. "Just like that?"

She let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. "Not exactly. She wasn't happy about it—told me to stay here for all she cared." Her fingers curled tightly around the hem of her shirt, knuckles turning white. "She called me useless, too."

Lucas scoffed, crossing his arms. "That woman's got some nerve."

Anna let out a hollow laugh, the sound devoid of any real amusement. "It's funny, isn't it? My whole life, I did everything I could to be useful. I gave up my dreams, worked my ass off just to survive, and yet—" she exhaled sharply, shaking her head, "none of it mattered. To them, I'll always be nothing."

Her words carried an eerie weight, as if they belonged to someone else. It was Shane's past she was speaking about, yet the emotion behind them was unmistakably her own. The lines between them blurred, two lives intertwined by pain and rejection.

Lucas studied her for a long moment, confusion flickering across his face. He knew Shane—at least, he thought he did. The richest daughter he had ever met, someone who had never needed to work a day in her life. But now, she spoke of struggle, of sacrifice, of dreams abandoned. What dreams? What had she given up?

He didn't ask. Instead, he pushed himself off the counter and walked over, lowering himself onto the couch beside her. With a gentle nudge to her shoulder, he said, "You know that's bullshit, right?"

She tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze.

"You're not useless, Shane," he continued, voice steady. "Maybe to them, but screw them. What do they even know? You've been fighting alone for so long, and they don't even see it. That's on them—not you."

Anna swallowed, the lump in her throat tightening. A part of her wanted to believe him. Another part of her still carried Shane's pain, the years of being overlooked, dismissed, cast aside.

She forced a small smile. "Thanks, Lucas."

He smirked. "Anytime." Then, with a teasing glint in his eyes, he added, "Now, let's get you some food before you pass out from that hangover. You look like you've been through hell."

Anna chuckled, shaking her head. "I feel like it too."

And for the first time that morning, the weight on her chest felt just a little lighter.