Sherina's POV
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"So, how's your first night here, Sherina?" Grandma Delaila's gentle voice sliced through the quiet hum of breakfast, her eyes twinkling behind her teacup.
"Uhh... It was okay," I replied with a polite smile, though I could feel the corners of my lips twitch with the weight of last night's chaos.
What is this strange atmosphere?
Everyone's eating quietly, but there's something unspoken circling the table. A language not made of words, but of glances and subtle smirks.
I feel like I've walked into a play where everyone's read the script except me.
After I ran—no, fled—from that mysterious man last night, my heart thudding like a war drum in my chest, I went straight to Delly's room. I fumbled through the morning silence, searching for my phone with trembling hands.
Even though it was deep into the night on the island, I needed to call her. I needed to hear her voice—my anchor to reality.
Because whatever happened last night... it felt like something had shifted. And I couldn't make sense of it alone.
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Flashback
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"Found it!"
I knew I was breaking a promise the moment I unlocked my phone.
Delly had asked for distance—from her family, from the past that clung too tightly. 'Tell them the island has terrible reception,' she once told me, her voice laced with pain she never fully explained. 'I don't want to hear anything from them, No calls. No messages. Just peace.'
And I had agreed. But now, peace was the last thing I had.
My fingers trembled as I dialed her number, each ring pounding like a guilty heartbeat in my chest. I pressed the phone to my ear, barely able to breathe.
"Hello...?" Her voice came through, soft and groggy, wrapped in the calm of a faraway island night.
I didn't wait. The words tumbled out of me like a confession I could no longer carry.
"Delly, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to sleep with your boyfriend!"
My voice cracked.
"But I swear—nothing happened between us!"
I paused, gasping for breath, my thoughts spiraling into chaos.
"He was drunk, Delly. I only wanted to help him, but I think... I think he thought I was you. Maybe that's why he wouldn't let go. I tried to resist—I did! But he was strong, and I—I couldn't breathe. I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"
The silence on the other end stretched thin.
Then—laughter. Light, incredulous laughter.
"Wait, Sherina," she said, her tone shifting. "Calm down."
She chuckled softly before continuing,
"I don't even have a boyfriend."
My heart stopped.
What...?
I blinked, frozen in place. My mind raced back to the man's face, his embrace, the way he whispered "It's you." The way he held me like he was afraid of losing something he'd been searching for.
If he wasn't her boyfriend... then who was he?
Delly's voice brought me back.
"Who was it, Sherina?"
I couldn't speak. The truth swirled just out of reach, cloaked in shadows and mystery.
Then Delly spoke again, this time with a thoughtful tone.
"Maybe... it was my half-brother. He sometimes visits Grandma and Grandpa when he's not working."
And just like that, the floor beneath my feet shifted.
Half-brother...?
Come to think of it, the man from last night had a familiar face. He looked just like the man in the portrait I saw yesterday—in fact, he looked exactly like him, a living carbon copy. The only difference was the man last night seemed far younger than the one in the painting. How could I have missed that?
I had spent the night tangled in the arms of a stranger with eyes like storms and a presence that stole the air from my lungs.
Not Delly's boyfriend. Not some random guest.
Her blood. Her family.
And I—unknowingly—had stepped right into the middle of a history I didn't understand.
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End of Flashback
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The golden light spilled through the lace curtains, gentle and warm, as if trying to coax the house awake with kindness. The smell of toasted bread and fresh eggs floated in the air—comforting, almost enough to make me forget the knots in my stomach.
We were all gathered around the long dining table. The clatter of forks, the soft chatter, the occasional laughter—it all felt so normal. Too normal.
Everyone was here.
Everyone... except him.
The man from last night.
Not even a trace of his presence. As if he had never existed. As if the night before was nothing but a figment conjured by my restless, guilty mind.
Was it just a dream?
Please... let it be a dream.
Because if it wasn't—
If everything that happened was real—
Then I'm not sure how I'm supposed to sit at this table and pretend that everything is fine.
My fingers curled around the handle of my mug, grounding me. Lost somewhere between truth and denial, between the echo of his voice and the weight of his gaze.
If it was a dream... why can I still feel the heat of his touch?
All this time, I thought I knew her, Delly—the girl I shared meals with, shared silence with, shared years with.
And yet... I don't know anything about her. Not really.
She always kept her past locked tight, tucked away like a diary with no key. I never asked—not because I didn't want to know, but because I respected her need for mystery.
I didn't even know she had a half-brother.
"Oh, Leon! Come join us."
The sound of Ding Xiang Liu's voice floated through the room, my heart slammed into my chest. I turned slowly, as if bracing for something... and there he was.
Him.
The man from last night.
Only—now, in daylight, he was no longer a blur of shadows and tension. No longer a drunken mystery holding me captive in confusion.
He looked different now—composed, radiant. Sinfully perfect.
A chill ran down my spine as my gaze locked onto his. I tried to look away—but failed.
How could anyone look like that and not know exactly what they're doing?
"Have you met Sherina Sze?" Grandma Delaila's voice broke through the air, but I barely registered it.
He walked forward with slow, deliberate steps, each one sending another ripple of panic across my already fragile nerves.
He sat down across from me, leaned back like he owned the room—and then he looked at me.
Our eyes met.
And that was it.
The blush crawled up my neck like wildfire.
I didn't know if he could see right through me, see the memory of last night painted across my skin—but the slight smirk curling on his lips told me he absolutely could.
"Yeah," he said, voice low and velvet-smooth, "we met last night."
My coffee nearly came back up.
"Oh goodness," Aunt Donna laughed, sipping her tea like this was all some casual joke, "Sherina must be the one who helped you this time."
"Dovresti fare più attenzione quando guidi. ," Grandma Delaila scolded gently. "E per favore, non nel bel mezzo della notte. E se poi nessuno ti avesse trovato?"
"You're lucky Sherina was there," Liliana chimed in, smiling knowingly.
I froze, my cup halfway to my lips. I didn't understand what Grandma said, but I'm sure of it...
So they knew.
They all knew.
I risked a glance at Liliana—she winked at me and smirked.
The betrayal hit me like a slap to the face.
This happens often?
I clenched my jaw.
How many others have "helped" Leon in the middle of the night?
But as I studied him more closely now, I realized
Leon was... magnetic.
Tall, lean, yet built with a quiet strength. His skin was sun-kissed and healthy, glowing in the soft light of the morning. The black tank top he wore clung to his body like it was tailored to show off his sculpted muscles. His jawline was sharp, commanding. And those eyes—God, those brown, cat-like eyes—pierced through me like they'd seen every secret I was trying to hide.
His thick, dark hair fell over his forehead in lazy waves, effortlessly wild. His presence alone made the air feel heavier.
He was the complete opposite of Delly.
She was softness—light and warmth. Delly glowed like dawn.
But Leon?
Leon was twilight.
A slow-burning fire.
An intense storm waiting to break.
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"Leon, you're on a break, right?" Grandma Delaila asked casually.
"Until next week," Leon replied, his voice smooth and unbothered as he bit into his toast.
Until next week...
A whole week of him being here—under the same roof.
My heart skipped at the thought.
"Perfect!" Delaila beamed. "Would it be alright if you took Sherina around? You know, show her some places?"
I felt the shift in the air immediately. Like a pebble tossed into still water.
"Hey!" Landon interjected, a bit too quickly. "We already have plans tonight, remember? Our friends want to see Leon. He's been working nonstop. He deserves to unwind a little."
He simply nodded, then tossed a casual glance my way—quick, sharp, deliberate.
"It's fine. She can come with us tonight."
Just like that, it was decided. No hesitation. No resistance. As if he wanted me there.
My pulse fluttered.
"Sherina would probably be bored staying in the house all day," Liliana chimed in, gently patting her baby boy, Don, who looked seconds away from tears.
Landon let out a reluctant sigh and finally turned to me.
"Would that be okay for you?"
All eyes turned to me.
My fingers tightened slightly around my glass of water, but I offered a smile—soft and steady.
"Of course," I said, then looked to Leon and met his gaze.
His eyes were unreadable. Still, there was something simmering just beneath them.
"I'll be in your care."
My voice came out more delicate than I intended—like I was surrendering something, even if I didn't know what yet.
He didn't smile. But his eyes lingered a moment too long.
And that, somehow, said more than any words ever could.
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End of POV
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The sun had already set, casting a golden blush across the horizon as Leon's luxurious convertible car hummed quietly along the road. Sherina sat beside him, the soft leather beneath her fingers a foreign comfort. Ahead of them, Landon revved his high-end green motorbike, weaving through the empty lanes with practiced ease.
Delly's last words echoed in Sherina's mind like a warning wrapped in velvet:
"Just a heads up—my brothers are really, really rich. So please don't get surprised."
Sherina leaned back into the seat, eyes wide with quiet awe.
'Look at you,' she whispered to herself. 'Sitting in a car more expensive than your entire life, chauffeured by the man who owns it. And he's doing it for you.'
Sherina glanced at her reflection in the side mirror—soft eyes framed by long lashes, lips pressed into a line of disbelief. The silence was smooth, almost calming, until Leon's voice pierced through it like velvet over steel.
"So... how long have you known Delliana?" Sherina turned her head slightly, catching his eyes in the mirror. "It's been two years," she replied, her tone gentle. "I met her when I first came to the island."
Sherina broke the silence, her voice barely louder than the wind brushing past her face.
"Listen.. About last night, I want to say I'm sorry. I should've called the butler to help you. If I had, maybe none of that would've happened. I don't want to offend your woman. I can apologize to her too—for what happened. I fell asleep beside her drunk boyfriend."
Leon turned his head, eyes lingering on her for a brief moment—sharp, unreadable—before drifting back to the road. The streetlights painted gold onto his features, casting shadows across his jaw.
"What makes you think I have a lover?" he asked, his voice cool, calm, dangerously smooth.
Sherina's brows drew together, curiosity painting her face with soft confusion.
"You don't?" she asked, almost involuntarily. A man like him—polished, magnetic, every bit the definition of elusive charm—how could he not belong to someone?
Leon didn't answer. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, subtle and knowing, like he was in on a secret the world wasn't ready for.
'Blunt as always,' he mused inwardly, the echo of the past threading through the present. 'You never changed.'
His grin widened just slightly, but he said nothing more.
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The ride stretched into a slow half hour, the town melting into a canvas of gold and shadow before Leon's car purred to a stop in front of their destination. Sherina stepped out, her heels meeting polished stone, and lifted her gaze. Before her stood an exclusive VIP club—tucked in the heart of the town like a secret for only the chosen few.
A line of butlers stood at attention, their formation precise, their posture flawless. But one stood out. The man who opened her door was striking—gray hair slicked neatly back, a chiseled face framed by the sharp lines of a black suit and a perfectly knotted gray tie. His movements were efficient yet elegant, a silent choreography of service.
He moved without pause to the other side, opening Leon's door. Leon stepped out with a casual grace, the kind of presence that didn't need to command attention, yet did. The gray-haired man produced a cigar, placing it between Leon's lips before striking the flame. The brief flare of fire illuminated the cool steel of Leon's gaze.
Leon exhaled a slow ribbon of smoke, then turned to her. "You smoke?"
Sherina shook her head lightly, her eyes darting away. "Nope."
"What about drinking?" he pressed.
She studied him for a moment before nodding.
"Can you hold your liquor?"
The corner of her mouth curved into a subtle smirk. "Yeah."
Leon had no idea. Sherina's past as a Champagne girl five years ago was tucked neatly behind layers of grace. She never once blacked out. Alcohol had been a job, a game, a shield. She'd seen men twice his size crumble under the table while she walked away steady as glass. No drink had ever managed to claim her.
Moments later, Landon joined them, and together they stepped inside. The club unfolded like a scene from a billionaire's fantasy—crystal chandeliers cascading like frozen waterfalls, walls draped in velvet, and a scent of amber and leather drifting through the air.
"Landon! Leon—finally, you've come!" A tall man in a tailored suit approached, carrying a bottle whose label whispered of rare vintages and steep prices. He led them to an exclusive VIP lounge where plush seating wrapped around a low marble table.
Sherina settled at the edge of the couch, quietly observing as Leon and Landon were swept into greetings with a circle of impeccably dressed young men. Handmade suits, polished shoes, fragrances as unique as their owners—every detail screamed wealth and exclusivity.
A woman with sleek dark hair glided toward her, a glass of red wine in hand. "Hello. I'm Veronica."
"Sherina." She accepted the glass, their glasses touching in a soft toast before she sipped.
"So," Veronica asked with a teasing tilt of her head, "The Liu men are very difficult to pursue. They always come here, but they've never brought a woman with them—or even taken one home. I'm quite intrigued... are you Landon's woman, or Leon's?"
Sherina's cheeks warmed as she waved a hand dismissively. "No, no. I'm just a friend of Leon's sister."
"Sister?" Veronica's brows lifted in confusion. "Leon has a sister?"
Before Sherina could answer, a man slid into the seat between them. Confident. Too confident. His smile was the kind that asked without asking.
"Hi. Karl," he introduced himself, eyes scanning her like she was something to be appraised. "A pretty thing like you looks a little lost here. Single? Want to have some fun tonight?"
Sherina froze, her polite smile wavering. The man radiated practiced charm and shameless persistence.
"What do you say? I'd like me some fresh and young company tonight." He leaned closer, his wine glass tipping, his eyes glinting like a predator's in low light.
Before the space between them could close, Leon appeared—slipping into the gap like a shadow, his wine glass lifting to block Karl's view.
Karl chuckled, leaning back. "Oh, sorry, sorry." He turned abruptly to Veronica, gripping her face and kissing her without warning.
Sherina's hand found the edge of Leon's suit, giving it the slightest tug. She whispered, "Thank you."
She didn't notice Leon's hand raise behind her in a subtle signal. The gray-haired man, stationed nearby, caught it immediately and approached.
"I have to greet the others," Leon murmured. "Mr. Kang will accompany you for a while."
Turning, she found the man bowing politely beside her. Leon finished his wine in one slow swallow before stepping away. She took another sip of her own drink, exhaling softly.
"Sit here with me—I have no one to talk to."
Mr. Kang hesitated, then obeyed. She poured a fresh glass of wine and handed it to him.
"So, what's your name?"
"Kang Minho."
"Sherina Sze. How long have you been working for Leon?"
"A very long time." Kang Minho wore a confused expression, feeling as though he were being interviewed by this woman.
Her brows lifted slightly. "Do you... know Delliana Liu? His sister?"
He hesitated, the pause stretching long enough to feel heavy.
"It seems no one here knows about Delliana?" she pressed gently.
Finally, Mr. Kang exhaled. "Ms. Liu's identity has been kept from the public for... private reasons."
Sherina's brows lifted slightly, but she nodded. "If it's private, I won't pry. Delly respects my privacy, so I do the same for hers." She smiled, and they touched glasses again.
'She's a feisty one.. a despicable woman. No wonder she had caught the young master's eye...
even back then....' Kang Minho said to himself.
From across the lounge, Leon's eyes stayed fixed on her, ignoring the chatter around him. Something twisted in his chest at the sight of her smiling at Mr. Kang. He told himself it was nothing—Mr. Kang was only following orders—but still, the sight pulled at him in a way he couldn't ignore.
He drained his wine in a single pull.
"Whoa, careful with the wine," Landon chuckled, leaning casually against him despite the height difference. He tipped more wine into Leon's empty glass.
"Want to take some girls tonight?" A man standing right beside them teased.
Leon glanced sideways at him. "Damn right I will."
Landon grinned. "Whoa—someone's growing up. First time taking a woman home, huh?"
The men around them laughed, tossing out offers to help him choose.
"Do you even know Leon's type?" one of them joked.
Leon smirked, his gaze flicking briefly toward Sherina.
"Actually," he said, his voice slow, deliberate, "I already found one."