Harry stood frozen in the dim hallway, his chest heaving as he stared at the solid wood of the bedroom door.
His body was screaming at him—a relentless, burning ache from his cracked ribs that made every single breath feel like he was inhaling glass.
He looked at Andrew’s retreating back, then toward the living room where the hard, unforgiving leather couch sat waiting.
He couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t leave Lolleta alone down this hallway, and he couldn’t survive the night on that sofa.
Therefore–.
“Fine,”
Harry muttered, the word tasting like poison on his tongue.
Andrew stopped at the threshold of the master bedroom, turning his head just enough to look over his shoulder.
A slow, knowing smirk played at the corner of his mouth.
“Changed your mind, Harry? How sensible.”
“Shut up,” Harry raspy-voiced, pushing past him into the spacious bedroom.
The bedroom was vast, cold, and meticulously clean, it definitely smelled of Lucas.
In the center sat an expansive, king-sized bed covered in dark, heavy silk sheets.
It looked less like a place to sleep and more like a stage where Andrew dictated his terms.
Without saying another word to the King, Harry turned on his heel, to walk around the bed and he moved with agonizing slowness, carefully sliding his arms under Lolleta’s sleeping form.
The little girl let out a soft, warm sigh, turning her face into his chest as he lifted her.
Harry squeezed her as tightly as his bruised ribs would allow, carrying her closer to his side of the bed.
Just then he pulled the heavy silk duvet up over her small shoulders, creating a clear, physical barrier.
Andrew was already under the sheets, propped up against the plush headboard with his phone in hand, completely unbothered by the sudden addition to the room.
If anything he was pleased.
“She sleeps here, close to me.” Harry stated, his voice flat and unyielding as he climbed in on the opposite edge, keeping as far away from Andrew as humanly possible.
“In between us. To block you from getting any closer.”
Andrew didn’t look up from his screen, but his smirk widened.
“A human shield, Harry? How dramatic. If you think a toddler is going to stop me from doing anything I want in this room, then you are severely mistaken.”
“Just stay on your side, Mayfair,” Harry growled, facing his daughter and he clutched her close to him.
The bedroom lights flickered off with a soft electronic beep, plunging the room into absolute darkness, save for the pale, watery moonlight cutting through the heavy drapes.
For Harry, the night quickly turned into pure, unadulterated torture.
He lay perfectly rigid on the very edge of the mattress, his shoulder practically hanging off the frame.
Every time he tried to shift his weight to find a comfortable position, a sharp, white-hot spike of pain flared through his torso from his fractured ribs.
He couldn’t roll onto his stomach, and lying on his back made him feel completely exposed to the monster sleeping just a few feet away.
But the physical pain was nothing compared to the suffocating psychological weight in the room.
The silence was incredibly loud.
In the quiet space, Harry could hear the soft, rhythmic breathing of his daughter right beside him, which was the only thing keeping him grounded.
But past that, he could hear the steady, calm breaths of Andrew Mayfair.
It felt entirely unnatural.
He was sharing a bed with the most dangerous predator at St.
Jude’s Academy, his enemy—and the man who held his entire future, his debt, and now his daughter’s safety in his pocket.
Harry’s mind kept spinning, replaying the graphic images Lucas had shown him on the phone earlier. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
The commoner seniors who had touched him were dead, erased from the academy ledger in a single night.
Andrew had done that without blinking, and now he was sleeping peacefully just across the mattress.
It made him fear him even more.
‘I shouldn’t have come back here.’
Harry stared at Lolleta’s hair caught in the moonlight.
He reached out a trembling hand, gently resting his knuckles against her small cheek just to ensure she was still breathing, still real, still safe.
‘I brought her into this cage,’ Harry thought, a bitter lump forming in his throat.
‘I saved her from Lloyd, but I locked both of us in here with him.’
*****
Hours passed like molasses.
Harry didn’t sleep a single wink.
Every time his eyelids grew heavy, his survival instincts would violently snap him back awake.
His heart would hammer against his ribs, convinced that the moment he closed his eyes, the dark shadow on the other side of the bed would move.
“You’re radiating anxiety, Harry. It’s making the mattress vibrate.”
Andrew’s smooth, low whisper cut through the dark, sudden and perfectly clear.
He hadn’t been asleep either, or perhaps he was just entirely aware of every single breath Harry took.
Harry didn’t look up at him.
He kept his eyes locked on Lolleta.
“Go to sleep, Andrew.”
“I am perfectly rested,” Andrew murmured, his voice closer than Harry liked, though the King hadn’t moved an inch from his side of the bed.
“You should try to close your eyes. The schedule for tomorrow requires you to be alert. We have a lot of plans to do, for both you and Lolleta.”
“I told you, I’m fine,” Harry lied, his jaw aching from how hard he was clenching his teeth.
“You are a terrible liar,” Andrew replied softly, followed by the faint rustle of silk sheets as he adjusted his pillow.
“But suffer if you wish. The torture is entirely self-inflicted.”
The room fell back into a freezing silence.
Harry gripped the edge of the mattress, his body shaking slightly from pure exhaustion and pain, counting the agonizing minutes until the dawn would finally break the dark.
Are you that scared of me, Harry?” Andrew asked, adjusting his head properly on the pillow.
His voice was smooth and perfectly clear in the quiet room.
Harry didn’t turn around at first.
He kept his eyes locked on the wall, his jaw tightening.
“You put me into a coma before. Is that a question you’re supposed to ask a person you nearly killed five years ago? My body still has the stab wounds, you know?”
“It was well deserved,” Andrew murmured, his voice entirely unbothered.
“And for your own information, I still have that knife I plunged into you. I keep it at my annex back at the Mayfair estate on full display. It serves as a memoir of the day our friendship fell apart.”
Andrew shifted slightly under the sheets, the fabric rustling softly.
“And not to mention that my limping leg is a physical reminder of how much I resent you. It hurts every time that I see you.”
Harry finally looked up at him, turning his head across the wide mattress.
“Then why are you still here?” Harry asked, his voice raw and filled with genuine exhaustion.
“Why do you keep on insisting to be around me when you hate me so much?”
“Mhm, that’s because you have my daughter?” Andrew replied casually.
And just then Harry let out a small, bitter breath.
“I fail to believe that.”
Andrew faintly chuckled amidst the whispers, avoiding to wake Lolleta who slept peacefully between them.
The low sound of his laughter was dark and teasing.
Harry’s gaze remained unflinching.
“You still want me dead, don’t you?” Harry asked quietly, staring directly into the King’s dark eyes.
“More than anything,” Andrew replied without hesitation and Harry nodded slowly, accepting the obvious answer.
He had known it all along, but hearing it dropped so casually in the middle of the night still sent a cold chill down his spine.
“Then what’s stopping you from killing me now?” Harry asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“We’re in the same room. I’m injured. Nobody would stop you. In fact I’m vulnerable every day you have plenty of opportunities to pounce at me.”
“Just because,” Andrew said with a shrug.
Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“Andrew, stop joking around.”
“I mean it,” Andrew insisted, his expression blank and unreadable in the shadows.
Harry let out a frustrated sigh, turning his face away from the King once again to face his daughter.
“Then you have given me one more reason to never trust you,” Harry muttered into the dark.
“If you haven’t truly moved on from the past, then so be it. I’ll also prepare myself for the worst.”
“I’d truly appreciate it if you did,” Andrew replied smoothly.
Tracing his cold hand in Harry’s cheek to look at him and Andrew smiles blowing him a kiss and a wink, completely mocking the gravity of the situation.
Harry scoffed loudly, shaking his head in absolute disbelief.
“I don’t really know what’s what with you. You need to get your head checked.”
Andrew didn’t reply, just letting out another soft, amused breath as he settled deeper into his pillows.
“I love you too baby, no need to ruin the mood by sulking. Look at us, aren’t we such a beautiful family huh?”
Harry scoffed out loud gripping the edge of the mattress, his body shaking slightly from pure exhaustion, pain and annoyance, counting the agonizing minutes until the morning.
*****
Harry and Andrew are childhood friends, from families that never got along politically.
°Five years ago their friendship fell apart in a worst way because (betrayal).
They nearly killed each other…bear in mind, they were only 15 years of age then.
And that incident caused hatred between the families even more.
°Then three years later at the age of 17, Andrew’s hatred for Harry was still unhinged and he harmed him every time that he saw him, and after getting his hands on his grandfather’s experimental chemicals he came across the fertilizing product that made it possible for males to conceive.
And in order to ruin Harry’s life even more he stole it.
Malfoy being in love with Andrew despite of everything happening between their families, that’s one of the reasons why he had a fall out with Harry.
Malfoy stalked Andrew a lot and even heard a few things from Lucas about Andrew and that’s how he caught wind about Andrew’s plans regarding Harry and ended up being the one kidnapped and molested for weeks by Andrew in place of Harry because of impersonating Harry.
Leading to today’s events.
More will unfold along the way, I just wanted to make this part about the five years and three years of hatred clear.
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