Help Him

The warm water cascaded down Xander’s body, steam curling around the marble walls of Valeria’s mansion bathroom. It had been a full year since he last took a proper shower—without chains, without restrictions, without the cold bite of discipline pressing into his skin.

For the first time in so long, he felt human.

He ran his fingers through his wet hair, exhaling deeply. His body still carried faint scars from the past year, but there was no anger in his reflection; only quiet acceptance.

When he stepped out, a fresh towel awaited him, placed neatly by Valeria. A silent gesture.

He dried himself off, changed into the clothes she had prepared—a crisp white shirt, dark tailored pants—and walked barefoot down the polished wooden floors toward the dining area.

Valeria was already seated, her long dark hair falling over her shoulder as she stirred her coffee. The scent of fresh bread, eggs, and fruit filled the air.

Xander took a seat across from her, his movements composed, precise.

It was March 20th.

He smiled.

"Seven days," he murmured, slicing into his toast.

Valeria raised an eyebrow. "Seven days for what?"

"Your birthday," he answered smoothly. His sharp gaze softened as he looked at her. "You’ll be twenty-three. I won’t forget this time."

She blinked, as if caught off guard by the simplicity of his words.

Xander leaned back in his chair, swirling his coffee before speaking again. His voice was measured, steady.

"Help me go home, Valeria."

A pause.

"My family thinks I died in that explosion. I need to show them I’m alive."

Valeria exhaled, setting her cup down.

And then; she nodded.

No questions. No resistance. Just quiet understanding.

They leaving forest mansion

The air outside was crisp, the dense forest surrounding them swaying gently with the morning breeze. Xander inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the scent of pine, damp earth, and the faint traces of Valeria’s lingering perfume.

The sleek black car was already waiting at the driveway, the private driver holding the door open for them.

Valeria slid in first. Xander followed.

As the car pulled away from the mansion, silence settled between them. Not tense, not awkward; just unspoken.

Valeria turned slightly, inhaling.

Xander noticed.

A small smirk ghosted his lips. "Smelling me, are you?"

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "You smell... different."

Xander chuckled, stretching his arms lazily. "Good different, I hope?"

Valeria's eyes lingered on him for a moment before she looked away, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips.

"You'll do."

The car drove on, leaving behind the shadows of the past.

For the first time in a year, Xander Alekto was going home.

Xander’s gaze locked onto Valeria’s, his eyes dark and knowing. His voice dropped into a whisper, just for her ears.

"We keep the disciplinary a secret."

Valeria raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her expression. "Oh? Afraid they’ll think you’ve gone soft?"

Xander smirked but said nothing. Instead, he stepped forward, his presence unwavering as the low hum of the car engine behind them filled the silence.

The heavy wooden doors of the mansion creaked open.

A man—disheveled, weary—stood there, his breath catching the moment his eyes landed on Xander. Then, a laugh. Hollow. Disbelieving. As if he were staring at a ghost.

"Xander?" His voice trembled, his lips curling into a delirious smile.

Xander’s expression remained composed, unreadable. Then, he spoke, steady and sharp.

"It’s me, Father. The explosion didn’t kill me. Just—" he flexed his fingers, squeezing Valeria’s hand briefly before releasing it "—left me with a few lessons to learn."

His father’s hands trembled as he reached out, almost afraid that if he touched Xander, he would disappear. But Xander didn’t waver. Instead, he stepped in and wrapped his arms around the older man in a firm embrace.

"I’m home."

But not everyone was pleased.

A slow clap echoed from behind.

"Touching," a voice drawled, dripping with mockery.

Valeria tilted her head, her sharp gaze shifting past Xander’s father. Standing there, half-casual yet radiating dominance, was Xander’s elder brother.

"So the prodigal son crawls back from the dead." His lips curled, eyes gleaming with something far from brotherly affection. "Tell me, little brother, did you decide to show up just to claim what’s no longer yours?"

Xander exhaled slowly, his smirk barely hiding the underlying edge in his tone.

"I see time hasn’t made you any less predictable, brother." His voice was calm, deliberate. "Still clinging to things you didn’t earn?"

His brother’s smile twitched.

Valeria, standing beside Xander, sighed dramatically. "Men and their power plays. So exhausting." She turned to Xander, voice sweet yet laced with mischief. "Shall I handle him for you, darling? I’m feeling generous today."

Xander chuckled, low and dark. "Tempting." His gaze flicked back to his brother, the weight of unspoken challenges hanging in the air. "But let’s not waste time on the inevitable."

His brother’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

The war was unspoken, but the battlefield was set.

Xander and Valeria both knew; when it came to family, cruelty ran in their blood.

As the car moved smoothly through the streets, the tension from Xander’s family encounter slowly faded into the hum of the engine. Xander leaned back against the seat, exhaling deeply, his sharp eyes still carrying the weight of the past year. Beside him, Valeria sat with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable as she stared out the window.

"You’re really quiet," Xander murmured, tilting his head toward her. "Not mad that my brother acted like that, are you?"

Valeria scoffed, finally turning to face him. "I expected worse. Sibling rivalries in elite families? Please." She rolled her eyes, but there was something sharp in her tone. "Still, your father—he was happy to see you alive."

Xander let out a low chuckle. "Yeah… I guess he thought he was hallucinating. Can’t blame him." His fingers brushed over the cuff of his sleeve, as if still adjusting to his newfound freedom. "At least now they know I survived."

Valeria stretched slightly, her head leaning against the seat. "So, what now?"

Xander smirked. "Now? We go to your house."

She raised an eyebrow. "You’re coming home with me?"

He turned fully toward her, his gaze locked onto hers. "Where else would I go? I was yours for a year, remember? Tamed, disciplined, and apparently, I’m still here." He leaned in slightly, voice dropping. "You’re not getting rid of me that easily."

Valeria clicked her tongue, but a smirk played on her lips. "Tsk, clingy now, are we?"

Xander chuckled, reaching out to brush a strand of her hair away from her face. "You’re the one who made me like this."

The car pulled into the long, private driveway of Valeria’s estate, the mansion looming ahead. Xander glanced out the window, then back at her. "Feels strange, stepping into someone else’s home after so long."

Valeria pushed the car door open. "Get used to it. You’re mine now, remember?"

Xander let out a quiet laugh, stepping out after her. "Yeah… I remember."

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