A figure stood in the doorway, tall and broad-shouldered, etched with the marks of battles fought. Dark, casual clothing clung to a physique sculpted by discipline and war. His neatly cropped golden-blonde hair caught the fluorescent lights, an almost identical shade to his younger brother Mike's—yet where Mike held a boyish charm, Mikael looked as though he'd been hewn from iron and fueled by a simmering rage.
His electric-blue eyes, sharp and utterly merciless, locked onto me like a heat-seeking missile. Instantly, the temperature in the room seemed to plummet.
My heart lurched. I straightened, my grip tightening on the blanket.
"Third… Third brother?" Mike stammered, turning around, visibly startled. His face slowly drained of color.
Third brother? The thought sent a jolt of fear through me. Is this Mikael? The one I was warned to avoid at all costs? Why is he here?
"Mia Isabella. Looking good, huh?" he drawled, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"Third— third brother, she's still a patient. Please, not now," Mike pleaded, his eyes fixed on Mikael with desperate appeal.
"Step aside, Mike. I have a very important matter to discuss concerning our beloved little sister."
"But—"
"Okay, fine! I'll step out first. Mia, just scream if he tries anything funny." Mike shot me a final, worried glance before retreating towards the door. The anxiety etched on his face almost made me call him back.
"Close the door, Mike. Thank you," Mikael commanded, his gaze never leaving mine. A chilling smile, one that didn't reach those piercing electric-blue eyes, bloomed on his handsome face—a face that bore a striking, seventy-percent resemblance to Mike's.
A primal sense of danger surged through me, threatening to make my already pounding heart explode. This man radiated menace.
Moments later, Mikael's hand reached the doorknob–click–He locked it from the inside, the sound sharp and final, making me jump. What was he planning?
He leaned in, his hands gripping the cold metal side rails of the bed, effectively caging me. His face drew closer—too close—so close I could see the faint, pale scar that traced a line near his jawline.
"Mia Isabella. My beloved younger sister. I hear you've suffered some memory loss. What is this now? An act to garner sympathy—or something else?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous purr as he leaned closer to my now ashen face.
My throat constricted. "What do you mean? I—I don't understand," I managed, my voice trembling. I couldn't bring myself to meet the intensity of his blue eyes.
"No rush. I will explain it to you slowly and steadily," he scoffed, reaching into the pocket of his dark pants. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. This scene strangely brings me a sense of déjà vu.
"Here, take a look at this. Let me know if you want to confess your crime. Maybe, just maybe, I will consider forgiveness if you tell me the truth," he said, thrusting the creased paper towards me.
It appeared to be some kind of hospital report, my name clearly printed at the top.
"What—what is this? I don't understand. Tell me what exactly you want to know? What…what crime are you talking about?" I stammered, my voice barely a whisper as I instinctively shrank back against the soft hospital pillows.
"You see, this report details your blood test results from the night of the accident," he stated, his voice dangerously calm.
Then, his composure shattered. "YOU DARE TAKE DRUGS RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE?! CONFESS NOW, OR I'LL MAKE SURE YOU END UP BEHIND BARS!" he roared. The sudden, brutal shout inches from my face brought a rush of tears to my eyes. His hands clenched the bedrails tighter, his knuckles bone-white with barely contained rage. He didn't touch me, but the sheer force of his fury made it difficult to breathe.
Drugs? Who was taking drugs? He meant… me?
"Drugs!? No—that's impossible! Third—third brother, there has to be a misunderstanding. Let—let me explain first," I pleaded, my voice shaking uncontrollably. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I stubbornly blinked them away.
He finally recoiled with a harsh scoff, taking a step back from the bed.
"Start remembering, Mia," he warned, his gaze unwavering as he paused at the locked door. "Because if you think playing the amnesia card will get you out of this… think again."
With that chilling pronouncement, he turned and left, the click of the door unlocking and then—bang—closing echoing in the suddenly thick silence. My hands remained clenched in the bedsheets, trembling long after he was gone.
***
From down the hall, Doctor Leon approached, a medical chart tucked under his arm. His brows furrowed as he spotted Mike pacing restlessly near Mia's ward door.
"What's going on? Why are you standing here looking like a wreck?" Leon asked, his voice low with concern.
Mike snapped out of his daze, running a hand through his messy hair. "Third brother's inside," he muttered. "Said he needed to discuss something personal with Mia… but Leon, I'm afraid he'll do something reckless."
Leon scratched the back of his head, frowning deeply. "Mikael?" he echoed, stepping closer. His gold-rimmed glasses slid slightly down his nose as he adjusted them. "Why the hell would he come here? I thought he and Mia didn't exactly get along?"
"I don't know…" Mike trailed off. Then his eyes widened. "Wait—did you hear that just now? Was that a scream?"
Without needing another word, both men leaned in, pressing their ears against the door.
"Mia? Mia, are you okay?!" Mike called out, knocking frantically. Panic laced his voice, his face losing what little color it had left. "Third brother, open the door right now!"
Leon joined him, rapping sharply against the door. "Mikael, open up! Don't make me call security!"
The seconds dragged like hours. Then, finally—click—the lock turned.
The door swung open, and Mikael stepped out.
He wore a simple dark shirt and dark pants, but the relaxed clothes did nothing to soften the brutal, commanding aura that clung to him like a second skin. He looked like a man used to giving orders—and being obeyed without question.
Mike and Leon stiffened instinctively as Mikael's electric-blue gaze flicked between them. A small smile curled his lips, sharp and cold.
"My dear Mike, relax," Mikael said nonchalantly, his voice smooth, almost mocking. "Nothing happened to your precious little sister."
Then, turning to Leon, he added, "Doctor, she's all yours now. Take good care of her."
There was a glint in Mikael's eyes—something unreadable, dangerous—that made both men bristle.
Without waiting for a response, Mikael strode away down the corridor, his steps steady and unhurried, leaving behind a heavy silence thick with unease.