### Chapter Thirty-Two: Conflicting Emotions

The rest of the day passed in a quiet haze for Hana. The boys were careful to give her space, but they were never far away, always making sure she was comfortable and safe. After breakfast, they dispersed to their various activities, leaving her to her thoughts.

Hana found herself wandering the mansion aimlessly, her mind replaying the events of the night before. Every loud sound, every unexpected movement made her flinch. Her heart would race, and for a split second, she’d forget where she was, her mind conjuring up terrifying scenarios. But each time, she’d quickly remind herself that she was safe. The boys—her kidnappers—had been nothing but kind to her.

She ended up in the library, a quiet, sunlit room lined with shelves of books. The smell of aged paper and wood was calming, and Hana took a deep breath, trying to center herself. But the stillness of the room only made her thoughts louder.

She sat down in one of the plush armchairs by the window, curling her legs up beneath her. Her hands trembled slightly as she stared out at the sprawling garden, her mind spinning with questions she couldn’t answer.

Why did her father want her back?

He had made it clear from the beginning that she was nothing more than a bargaining chip, a pawn in his games. He hadn’t cared when she was taken, and she doubted he cared now. But then why had he sent his men to retrieve her? Why go through all that effort, only to have them killed by the boys?

The door to the library creaked open, and Hana jumped, her heart racing in her chest. She whipped around, her eyes wide with fear, but quickly calmed down when she saw Yoongi standing in the doorway, his expression soft and concerned.

“Hey,” he said quietly, stepping into the room. “Are you okay?”

Hana nodded quickly, though she wasn’t sure if it was entirely true. “I’m fine,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yoongi watched her carefully as he walked over to her, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he knew that anything too sudden would startle her. He pulled up a chair and sat down across from her, his eyes searching her face for any signs of distress.

“I don’t want to push you,” he began gently, “but you seem… tense. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Hana hesitated, her eyes flicking down to her hands. She could feel his gaze on her, the weight of his concern pressing down on her. She didn’t want to worry him—didn’t want to worry any of them—but she couldn’t shake the confusion and fear gnawing at her insides.

Finally, she let out a shaky breath and looked up at him. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Why would my father want me back? He told you… he told you he wasn’t going to pay. He doesn’t care about me, so why would he send his men to get me?”

Yoongi’s expression softened even more, his eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and anger. He leaned forward slightly, his voice gentle as he spoke. “Hana, I don’t think your father wanted you back because he cares. I think… I think he saw another opportunity to use you.”

Hana frowned, her heart sinking at his words. “What do you mean?”

Yoongi sighed, his fingers tapping lightly on the arm of the chair. “Your father… he’s a cruel man. It’s likely he thought he could sell you to another mafia group, make a profit off of you. That’s why he sent his men. Not to bring you home, but to sell you again.”

Hana’s stomach twisted at the thought, a wave of nausea washing over her. She had always known her father didn’t care about her, but hearing it confirmed in such a cold, matter-of-fact way was like a punch to the gut.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi said quietly, his voice full of regret. “I wish I could tell you something different, but… that’s the truth.”

Hana swallowed hard, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “So, he never really wanted me,” she whispered, more to herself than to Yoongi.

Yoongi reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently placing his hand on top of hers. “Hana,” he said softly, his voice steady. “You’re not with him anymore. You’re with us. We’ll protect you.”

She looked up at him, her vision blurred by the tears that were now threatening to spill over. “But why?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Why are you all so kind to me? I’m just… I’m just a burden.”

Yoongi’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. “You’re not a burden,” he said firmly. “You’re important to us. We care about you, Hana.”

The sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, was overwhelming. Hana felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away, embarrassed by her own vulnerability.

“But why?” she asked again, her voice barely audible.

Yoongi’s expression softened even more, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable himself. “Because… we’ve all been hurt too. We know what it’s like to feel unwanted, to feel like you don’t matter. But you do matter, Hana. You matter to us.”

His words hung in the air between them, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. Hana felt a warmth spreading through her chest, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was confusing and scary, but also comforting in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

Yoongi gave her hand a gentle squeeze before slowly letting go, sitting back in his chair. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now,” he said softly. “Just know that we’re here for you, whenever you’re ready.”

Hana nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t sure how to process the jumble of emotions swirling inside her. But one thing was clear—these men, her kidnappers, had somehow become her protectors, her friends… maybe even something more.

As Yoongi stood up to leave, Hana felt a pang of fear at the thought of being alone again. “Yoongi,” she called out, her voice trembling slightly.

He turned back to her, his expression calm and patient. “Yes?”

“Can you… can you stay? Just for a little while?”

Yoongi’s eyes softened, and he gave her a small, reassuring smile. “Of course,” he said, sitting back down across from her.

They sat in silence for a while, the quiet of the library enveloping them. Hana’s mind was still racing, but the presence of Yoongi, his calm and steady presence, made it a little easier to breathe.

And as she sat there, feeling the warmth of his hand in hers, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to trust them. Starting to trust him.

Maybe her heart was beginning to find a new home.