FIFTY-FIVE
Aliya
PRESENT
The days flew by.
It’s been over a week now since I found refuge with Milan.
Ironically, this time it was the younger brother who pulled me out of my dark hole and gave me strength.
Just like Lio once did.
Despite all the stress, I didn’t want to skip school since it was the last week before winter break. Surprisingly, Milan brought me Raelyn’s spare school uniform so I could go.
After that, Silver became my lifeline. She went to my house to pick up my things because I couldn’t bear to set foot in that cursed hell. Milan wouldn’t have allowed it, even if I’d wanted to.
I didn’t have to explain to Silver what happened. She didn’t ask, just acted like everything was normal. And that’s exactly what I needed.
My mother texted me a few times, but I didn’t respond. Every message I opened hurt, twisting the knife deeper into my wounds.
She’s dead to me.
And even though my life is slowly settling into a routine, one thing is bothering me.
Damian’s disappeared.
After I found the courage to tell Milan everything that had happened between Damian and me, he stormed out of the house to find him. But less than an hour later, he came back with the news that Damian was gone .
He ran away.
But his disappearance seems too easy, too suspicious.
Deep down, I know he’s not the type to give up that easily. He’s probably just waiting for the right moment to strike.
Despite everything he’s done to me, I can’t help but feel a bit of pity for him. Even though he’s the devil himself, I can’t shake the feeling that maybe he’s right.
Maybe, in some twisted way, we’re alike .
The fact that I’m now living with Milan feels strange. Just a week ago, we were avoiding each other, and now we’re under the same roof.
He’s out training with Shin right now, while I’m alone, lurking in the Shane villa. Pavla’s visiting her family in Slovenia, so I’ve taken it upon myself to make dinner. It’s the least I can do, considering I’m living here for free.
The house is quiet as I move around the kitchen. Without Pavla and Milan’s voices, it feels strangely empty. Even Shin’s usual jokes and commentary are missing.
“I didn’t know we had a replacement in Pavla’s absence.”
The sudden sound of a deep voice startles me, and I jump slightly.
I turn around to see a tall man standing in the doorway, hands buried in his pockets. He’s handsome in a refined way, wearing a tailored suit and a stern expression.
Evan Shane.
I’ve seen him a few times in the news, on TV and at events, but this is the first time I’ve seen him up close.
He shares the same sharp features as Milan, with intense, dark eyes. His hair is shorter, streaked with silver, giving him a more distinguished appearance than his son. Both carry the same aristocratic air, with a cold, calculating intelligence in their gaze.
When I asked Milan if his father knew about me staying here, he simply nodded. But now, standing before Evan Shane in my plain clothes and messy hair, I feel like an intruder.
His presence is overwhelming, like a king surveying his kingdom.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-,” I start to explain, but he interrupts me with a cool nod.
“There’s no need to apologize.” His voice is low and controlled. “My son told me we’d have a guest for a while.”
He steps closer, his gaze sweeping over the kitchen counter where I’m preparing dinner. “You’re Aliya, I assume.”
“Yes, sir,” I respond, straightening my shoulders. “Aliya Sierra.”
“Hmm.” His hum is short and noncommittal. “Evan Shane.”
Slowly, he extends his hand. Expecting a handshake, I quickly reach for his hand.
“You cooked dinner?” he asks, his eyes flickering to the stove.
“Uh, yes.” I nod, mentally checking over what I’m cooking. “Just a few simple dishes. Nothing fancy.”
“I see.”
A brief, awkward silence hangs in the air, and I wonder if I should say something. His icy gaze feels like it’s stabbing right through me. “Would you mind if I joined you for dinner?”
What the …? Is he really asking to sit down and eat the food I cooked?
“Of course,” I reply, trying to hide my surprise.
The thought of having dinner with Milan’s father makes me feel like a child about to give a presentation in front of their teacher.
“Good.” Without another word, he strides toward the dining room.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Suddenly, cooking dinner feels like a high-stakes performance.
Dinner is uncomfortable.
Evan is polite but distant, and the conversation sticks mostly to neutral topics like the weather and current events.
When the subject turns to school, I remember that he’s the one who made it possible for me to attend the SVH in the first place.
“I, uh, actually wanted to thank you,” I say hesitantly.
He raises an eyebrow, signaling for me to continue.
“For letting me attend the Stoneview High,” I explain. “Robert Wilson is my stepfather. It’s not exactly common to sponsor school spots for your business partners’ children. So, thank you, sir.”
Evan’s expression doesn’t change, but I see a flicker of something like surprise in his eyes. “Ah, you’re Wilson’s daughter.”
He pauses for a moment, as if considering whether to say more. “I’m not as generous as you think. I don’t usually sponsor school spots.”
His bluntness takes me by surprise. So he didn’t help me to attend the SVH out of pure kindness.
Why did he do it then?
Evan studies me for a few moments before answering. “It wasn’t an act of random kindness. It was a favor for my son.”
My heart sinks. “W-what?”
“My older son, Kilian, was a very reserved person. The first time he ever asked me for anything was to secure a spot at the SVH for a girl named Aliya Sierra.”
I drop my fork.
A mixture of emotions floods through me.
He knew about the struggles I faced in middle school and made sure I could attend a prestigious high school.
He always cared for me.
Oh, Lio …
Was it his intention that his younger brother and I met?
“Dad.”
Milan’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. He’s standing in the doorway, his face neutral as he looks at us.
Evan and Milan stare at each other, their gazes intense and unwavering. It’s as if they’re communicating without words, waiting to see who will falter first.
Evan turns his attention back to me. “Thank you for the meal. It was very good.”
I manage a small smile in response. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.”
As he stands up, he pauses for a moment and glances at Milan. “You didn’t forget about tomorrow, did you, son?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Evan looks in my direction. “Aliya is welcome to join.”
I don’t know what the plans are, but I can feel Milan’s eyes on me, clearly displeased with his father’s offer. “We’ll see.”
“Well, the invitation stands.” He nods one last time before exiting the dining room, leaving me alone with Milan.
His expression has darkened, a trace of annoyance on his face.
“Why were you talking to my father?” he asks, his tone sharp.
His question catches me off guard. “Is that a problem?”
“It is. You don’t talk to Evan.”
“Why not?” I retort.
“Because I say so.”
Although his demanding tone irritates me, I also understand that Milan has a complicated relationship with his father. I don’t want to cause tension between us, so I decide it’s better to drop the topic.
“Where are you going tomorrow?” I get up, collecting the dishes.
“Evan wants me to go to a company dinner with him. Shitty CEOs would rather spend Christmas Eve talking business than enjoying time with their families.”
I know exactly what he means.
Robert and mom also attend every Christmas, so I’ve been eating alone on Christmas Eve for years.
“Do you want to come with me?”
“You’d take me with you?”
“Yes, why not?” A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You’d make the dinner more bearable.”
On one hand, I’d love to go with him – it’s better than spending the day alone, like always. But on the other hand, I hesitate at the thought of running into my mother.
I chew on my lower lip, a mix of excitement and unease swirling in my stomach. My thoughts are interrupted when Milan suddenly grabs my wrist and tosses me over his shoulder.
I let out a surprised yelp.
“Whoa! Put me down!” I protest, wriggling in his grip.
“Stop squirming,” he says gruffly, walking out of the kitchen. “I need to shower. I had practice until now.”
His arms hold me securely as he climbs the stairs, and I can feel the warmth radiating from his body through his clothes, making me feel oddly hot.
“You know you can shower alone, right?”
“I don’t want to,” he mutters, his pace unaffected by the extra weight.
Just as I’m about to give up resisting, something glimmers on my arm where his hand had gripped my wrist before.
I lift it for a closer look.
“Oh my God!” I gasp when I realize what the shiny object is.
It’s my lotus flower bracelet – the one he broke months ago. Seeing it on my wrist again steals my breath, and a whirlwind of emotions rushes through me as I feel his low chuckle.
“You remember that, huh?”
“Of course I remember! That was a gift from Kilian!”
“I thought so,” Milan replies curtly, the amusement in his voice fading slightly at the mention of his brother’s name.
“How is it- … It was broken.”
Did he get a new one?
When we enter the bathroom, Milan sets me down. He moves to the shower and turns on the water.
“I fixed it,” he explains quietly, his gaze flickering to the bracelet.
My mouth drops open. He did what?
“You fixed it? After you broke it, you actually put it back together?”
He gathered all the beads and repaired it? Milan?
He nods, confirming my disbelief. Then he starts undressing, peeling off his sweaty sweatshirt and tossing it aside.
“How did you know Kilian gave it to me?”
“I didn’t. I just guessed.”
He points to his finger, where a small lotus flower is tattooed on his skin.
“Kilian liked lotus flowers,” he adds. “Part of his name even stands for it. That’s why I got this tattoo – to always remember him.”
He says this so casually, like it’s a simple truth, but I can hear the sorrow in his voice, the pain of losing his brother.
My eyes can’t help but drift to his naked form as he steps into the shower, the water cascading over his body, making the muscles of his back glisten.
I strip off the rest of my clothes and join him in the shower.