Felicity's POV.
A few minutes into our laughter-filled conversation, Nathan leaned closer, his blue-brown eyes shining with unmistakable sincerity.
"I told you I'm going to love you, Princess," he said solemnly. "I already do."
I smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek. "So cute."
He frowned immediately. "I told you, men aren't cute."
"Oh!" I laughed softly. "Sorry. I meant hot."
We both burst into laughter, while Isla rolled her eyes in mock disapproval.
"I like you too, Miss Felicity," Isla said quietly.
I smiled warmly at her. "Thank you, my little cutie pie."
Just then, my phone rang.
"Please excuse me," I said as I stood. "I need to take this call."
I headed into the living room. It was my mom.
"Hey, Mom! Are you here yet?" I asked, smiling.
"Yes, Ninu. I arrived a few hours ago," she replied, her voice tense. "Are you on your way? There's someone here to see you. It's an emergency. Come home quickly."
The call ended before I could ask anything. My stomach twisted. My heart skipped. 'Who could it be?' I wondered.
I returned to the dining room, forcing a smile.
"I'm really sorry, everyone, but I have to leave. Something urgent came up," I said gently. "Dinner was amazing. Penelope, I'll see you tomorrow. Call me."
"I'll walk you out," Penelope offered, rising to her feet.
I hugged Nathan and Isla goodbye, and they each planted a quick peck on my cheek.
"Goodbye, Felicity," they chorused.
"Goodbye, little sweet peas," I whispered.
Penelope walked me to the door, but I insisted she go back to dinner. I hurried toward the gate, flagged down a taxi, and headed straight home, unease creeping in and growing heavier with every passing moment. When I arrived, the door was slightly open. Sitting in my living room was Christopher.
I went straight to Mom and hugged her tightly. "Hey, Mom, I missed you so much," I said, kissing her cheeks.
She pulled me closer. "I missed you too, sweetheart," she said, then sighed. "But we have a problem."
She lowered her voice. "This young man has been here for hours, calling your name nonstop. When I opened the door, he stood up, hugged me, and said, 'You must be Felicity's mom. She told me you were coming today. Can you be my mother too? Because I love your daughter.'"
She paused. "From the way he spoke and the smell of alcohol, I could tell he'd been drinking. I felt sorry for him, so I let him in. That's when I decided to call you. I'm sorry for the disturbance."
I looked at Chris. My heart sank as I exhaled slowly.
"It's okay, Mom. Don't worry," I said softly. "Chris never drinks. Something must be wrong. He said he loves me, but he isn't thinking clearly. I'm sorry this happened on your first day visiting me. I'll take him out, let him sober up, and talk to him. I'll take care of it. It might take a while."
She studied my face, then held my hand. "I don't know how it'll go. Maybe well, maybe not. Just be careful and take care of yourself, my love."
"I will," I promised. "Don't wait up and please go rest."
She nodded gently. "I will."
It was nearly midnight when I led Chris outside. Embarrassment, anger, and confusion burned in my chest as I wrapped an arm around his back and guided him toward the coffee shop where he worked, hoping the caffeine might help him sober up. His gaze lifted to mine, then drifted slowly over the dress, the makeup, my face—before settling on my eyes again, steady and intense.
"You're so beautiful," he said softly. "So honest. So pure. And you're mine—not in a selfish way, but because my heart chose you. You're the only one I want. The most important thing in my life. I don't care what anyone thinks. You are my family. My home. And I will never give up on you. Never."
My breath caught. My heart fluttered, fast and unsteady. Butterflies stirred in my stomach, warm and unsettling under his unwavering gaze.
"Okay, okay," I said quickly. "You need to sober up. You don't know what you're saying."
"Oh, but I do," he insisted. "You have no idea how much this means to me. I love you, Fel. I really do. And in my heart, you're already mine."
'Why am I flustered?' I wondered. 'What is this strange feeling in my body? Why does my stomach twist like this—why the butterflies?'
The place was almost empty, with only the night-shift staff around. We slid into a booth, and I ordered hot black coffee for us.
"Oh, Fel…" he slurred, leaning closer. "I missed you so much. I want you." His breath reeked of alcohol.
'So pathetic', I muttered under my breath.
The waiter set our coffees down.
"Thank you," I said.
"My pleasure. We're closing soon, so please wrap it up," he added with a polite smile.
I turned back to Chris. "Drink the coffee and sober up, for goodness' sake," I snapped.
"Do you… know… that I've loved you since the first day I met you?" he mumbled.
My chest tightened. "Oh, Chris… why did you have to get drunk?" I whispered.
I finished my coffee, but he didn't touch his. His head fell onto the table, eyes closing. A moment later, the waiter returned to remind us they were closing.
"Chris, come on," I whispered, shaking him. "Drink your coffee so we can go. We need to leave."
He suddenly lifted his head, his eyes clear.
"I told you," he said calmly. "I don't like coffee. Didn't I ever tell you?"
"You never told me that!" I snapped. "How can you work in a coffee shop and not drink coffee? Ugh—never mind. Let's go. They're closing, and it's already midnight."
"Yes," he said evenly. "Let's go talk somewhere else."
There was no slur. No sway. No haze. I stared at him. "You're… sober."
He sighed. "Why are you so surprised? Isn't it obvious?" His gaze held mine. "I wasn't drunk, Felicity. I pretended. I knew you wouldn't come with me if I asked. I needed you to listen."
"So you lied to me?" I whispered, disbelief shaking my voice. "You faked all of this—just to manipulate me?" I looked at him, anger burning hot. "I can't believe you stooped so low. I don't even want to talk to you, or look at you right now. I'm… so disappointed."
I stood up, furious, dropped money on the table, and walked toward the door.
"Felicity, please wait!" he called.
As I opened the door, I turned to him.
"Thanks for ruining my night," I said before walking out.
>>>>>>>>>>
Christopher's POV.
When she walked away, I followed. She was so beautiful, her green dress, the soft makeup, her sneakers, the way she carried herself without even trying. I caught myself hoping, stupidly, that one day she would be mine forever. The street was cold and too quiet, the kind of silence that makes fear louder. She shivered, whether from the cold or from me, I couldn't tell and guilt clawed at my chest. I never should've done this. I never meant to hurt her. I only wanted her to listen. Goodness, what have I done?
As she walked ahead, lost in thought, I followed about five feet behind. Then I heard it, footsteps echoing behind her. More than just mine. She sensed it too. Her pace quickened, sensing danger. So did theirs. Only a few blocks from her dorm and she tried to get there fast, but a group of men stepped into her path, cutting her off and closing in.
"Hey, gorgeous," one thug said, blocking her path and touching her shoulder. "You shouldn't be walking alone. It's dangerous."
She slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me. And who says I can't protect myself?"
"Ooh, fiery. I like it," another laughed, grabbing her arm.
"Let me go, or else—"
"Or else what?" a third sneered, cutting her off.
That's when I stepped out of the shadows.
"Touch her again," I said coldly. "And you'll be a dead man walking. Touch her again and I'll break every bone in your body. You'll regret it for the rest of your very short life."
They turned, startled, as I emerged fully into the light. She looked at me then relief washing over her face. They laughed.
"And who are you—some kind of Batman?" one mocked.
"Hey, look at that! Superman's here to save the day," another jeered.
I stepped toward them.
"I won't let any of you touch her," I said coldly. "You'd better leave. Didn't you hear me? Leave. Now."
I knew she liked it when a guy showed strength, especially with an accent. But she was stubborn. She always had been.
"I don't need you to fight my battles, Chris," she snapped at me, sounding defiant. "I don't need saving."
"You heard her," one of the thugs sneered. "Now leave, mate."
I sighed. "Okay. You really want me gone? Fine." I muttered under my breath, "You're so annoying Fel."
I turned as if to walk away then slipped back into the shadows.
>>>>>>>>>>
Noah's POV.
I was walking home when I passed a coffee shop and that's when I saw them. Christopher and Felicity. My jaw tightened instantly. I wasn't supposed to be there. That was the first lie I told myself as I stopped across the street, coffee cooling in my hand, eyes fixed on the café window like I had nowhere else to be. Christopher was sitting across from her. Too close. Too comfortable. I watched him lean forward, elbows on the table, voice low—intimate in the way men speak only when they think the world has narrowed down to one woman.
"Do you know that I've loved you since the first day I met you?" he said.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Real.
Like he meant every word. My jaw clenched harder. So this was it, then. Something ugly twisted in my chest—not just jealousy, but something sharper. Possessive. Furious. Fearful. I've got to deal with this Christopher, I thought.
I have to.
"Oh, Chris…" Felicity whispered. "Why did you have to get drunk?"
I heard everything. Every word landed like a blow. Then she said something that almost made me smile. 'So you're pretending gosh Chris,' I thought. Gosh. She stood abruptly, chair scraping back and walked to the door. She looked at him once, just once before saying it.
"Thanks for ruining my night."
And she walked out. Christopher followed immediately, guilt written all over his face. And before I could stop myself, I followed too. Night had fully settled by the time we reached the darker end of the street. Felicity's steps were fast, angry. Christopher trailed behind her, clearly shaken, probably replaying every word he wished he'd said differently. That's when I saw them. Three men lingering near the alley ahead. Wrong posture. Wrong energy. The kind of stillness that watches instead of waits. One of them stepped forward as Felicity passed.
"Hey, gorgeous," he said, blocking her path and touching her shoulder. "You shouldn't be walking alone. It's dangerous."
She slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me. And who says I can't protect myself?"
"Ooh, fiery," another laughed, grabbing her arm. "I like it."
"Let me go, or else—"
"Or else what?" a third sneered, cutting her off.
My blood went cold. She tried to move around them. Another stepped in from the side. Then Christopher appeared from the shadows. He closed the distance fast. I moved closer too, instinct screaming. Christopher stepped in front of her without hesitation.
"Touch her again," he said coldly. "And you'll be a dead man walking. Touch her again and I'll break every bone in your body."
His eyes were lethal.
"You'll regret it for the rest of your very short life."
"And who are you?" one of them mocked. "Some kind of Batman?"
"Hey," another jeered, "Superman's here to save the day."
"I won't let any of you touch her," Christopher said, his voice calm but deadly.
"You better leave."
They laughed.
"Didn't you hear me?" he went on, his accent sharpening every word.
"Leave. Now."
Felicity snapped, turning on him. "I don't need you to fight my battles, Chris. I don't need saving."
"You heard her," one of the thugs sneered. "Now leave, mate."
Christopher sighed, tension rolling off him.
"Okay," he muttered. "You really want me gone? Fine." Then, under his breath, "You're so annoying, Fel."
I stood there, fists clenched, heart pounding, watching the man I hated most protect the woman I loved—without hesitation, without fear, without thinking twice. That was the moment it hit me. This wasn't just rivalry anymore. This was war. And for the first time I wasn't sure I was winning.