Chapter 20

Halo

No relapsing this time.

I brought this on myself.

The tears came anyway — silent and endless — until I cried myself to sleep.

When I woke up, the ache was still there, sitting heavy in my chest. But the first thing I did — before even getting out of bed — was open my banking app and send the money back to his foundation.

Every last cent.

I didn’t want it.

I didn’t want to be bought.

I didn’t want anything from him.

Not his pity.

Not his cash.

Not even his gaze.

I packed quietly and left early, before anyone could speak to me. Before I could lose the nerve.

I couldn’t stay in that house a second longer. That environment suffocated me — every hallway, every marble floor, every scent of him woven into the air.

I needed distance.

I needed space to breathe.

I needed to remember who I was before Lucian Wolfe ever touched me.

Panda was half-awake when she opened the door, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her oversized hoodie. Her expression shifted quickly from sleepy to concerned.

“Halo? What’s with the bag?”

I gave her a tired smile. “Can I crash here for the weekend?”

She didn’t even hesitate — just reached out, took the bag from my hand, and stepped aside to let me in. “You already know the answer. But… what happened?”

I dropped onto her couch, sinking into the familiar softness, and forced a laugh — the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Your favorite idiot here… got paid for sex. Again.”

The words hung there like a cruel joke, and I chuckled through the ache in my throat.

But Panda didn’t laugh.

Her face darkened, eyes narrowing. “You slept with that asshole again?”

Her voice was sharp, not out of anger at me, but fear. Disappointment. That kind of pain only someone who really cares can carry.

I looked down, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah… I did.”

“Baka,” she muttered, smacking the back of my head before pulling me into a hug. Her arms wrapped around me tight — grounding, real.

“How are you holding up?”

I pouted, trying not to let the tears slip. “I didn’t relapse… and I gave the money back.”

“Good.” She rubbed circles on my back. “I’m proud of you for that. Really. And I’d tell you not to sleep with him again, but let’s be honest—if he called you, you’d be on your knees barking like a damn poodle.”

I burst out laughing through the tears. “I won’t… unless he says he wants a relationship with me.”

She pulled back, rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they stayed in her skull. “You’re so dumb, Jesus. Sometimes I wanna tell my mom everything so she can step in and stop that bastard from being your legal guardian.”

I giggled, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie. “Please don’t… she’ll kill me before she kills him.”

“She might.” Panda sighed, then reached for the blanket and tossed it over both of us as we sank into the couch. “But only after she hugs you and feeds you five different spicy soups.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

“I know. That’s why you’re still alive, idiot.”

I laughed softly and crawled into Panda’s bed, even though I had my own room in the house. I just… wanted to cuddle someone. And she was my best option — warm, soft, and always there.

When I woke up, it was well into the morning. Sunlight poured through the curtains, warm on my skin. But what startled me wasn’t the brightness — it was the presence beside me.

Mrs. Sandra.

She sat at the edge of the bed, a tray of food resting on her lap. Her posture was graceful, almost regal, her expression calm but unreadable. Even half-catonatonic with sleep still in her eyes, she was breathtaking.

“Good morning, ma,” I greeted with a sheepish smile.

She looked at me with quiet intensity. “You finally decided to face me after what happened.”

My throat tightened. “Sorry… I relapsed…” I reached out and took her hand in mine, eyes pleading. “But it won’t happen again. I promise.”

Her gaze softened, and she lifted her other hand to stroke my hair, her fingers moving slowly, gently, like she was trying to brush away every bad memory. “My sweet boy… you’ve suffered too much.”

She tilted my face toward her, studying me the way only she could. Then she pulled down my lower eyelids and made a soft noise of disapproval.

“You’re too thin. Malnourished. You look like someone who’s been scraping through hell,” she murmured. “You’re staying here until next weekend.”

I blinked. “But—”

She raised one perfectly sculpted brow.

That was all it took to shut me up.

She didn’t let me leave the bed until I ate everything on the tray — and just as I was wiping my mouth with the napkin, she handed me my phone.

“Call William,” she said calmly.

“Maa…” I groaned, my heart already sinking into my stomach.

“Now.”

With trembling fingers, I dialed the number and put it on speaker. William picked up almost immediately. “Yes, where did you run off to without properly informing me?”

Before I could say anything, Mrs. Sandra took the phone from my hand.

“Halo won’t be returning until next weekend,” she said, her voice sweet but laced with ice. “And frankly, I’m appalled. You’re letting this boy starve under your nose. If he hadn’t come here, I wouldn’t have known how much weight he’s lost.”

I buried my face in the blanket, silently begging the universe to end me.

There was a pause on William’s end — a long one — then a tight, “Understood, ma’am.”

She returned the phone to me with a satisfied smile.

“You didn’t have to go that hard,” I mumbled, still hiding under the blanket like a sulking child.

“Oh, I did. You nearly wasted away under their so-called care. They should be ashamed of themselves.”