Kate's POV:

As I stared at the blank canvas in front of me, the echoes of laughter from downstairs floated up to my room. Painting was my escape, my solace from the chaos that seemed to follow me in this house. The brush in my hand trembled slightly, and I forced myself to steady it. I had been working on Jordan's painting for hours, trying to capture his features with as much detail as I could muster.

"Kate, are you done yet?" Jordan's voice called from outside the door, impatience evident in his tone.

"Almost," I replied, trying to focus on the strokes. "Just stay still for a few more minutes."

"Kate, I've been sitting still for two hours! I'm starving," he whined.

With a sigh, I put the finishing touches on his portrait. "Fine, you can go now. I'll bring it down when I'm done," I said, dismissing him.

Jordan practically bolted from the room, and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Typical," I muttered under my breath as I set the brush down and stepped back to admire my work. It was one of my better pieces—his features were strong, with his mischievous grin perfectly captured.

But the thought of going downstairs made my stomach churn. Lucio. He'd been avoiding me since our last argument, and I wasn't eager to face him again. Still, I couldn't hide forever.

I carefully draped a white cloth over the painting, shielding it from prying eyes, and made my way downstairs. The sound of chatter and laughter greeted me, and I entered the kitchen to find the guys huddled around the counter, bowls of cereal in hand.

"Wow, breakfast of champions," I teased, grabbing their attention.

"Hey, we were starving," Steven replied defensively. "What else were we supposed to do? You've been locked up in that room of yours."

I rolled my eyes and leaned against the counter. "You'll manage. I'm leaving soon, anyway. Better start figuring out how to fend for yourselves."

The laughter died down, and Joseph looked at me, his expression falling. "You're really leaving?"

I hesitated, not wanting to dampen the mood. "I don't know yet," I admitted. "I haven't decided."

"You should stay," Joseph said earnestly. "This house is boring without you. It's just a bunch of guys arguing all the time."

"And a bunch of gay jokes," Jordan quipped, earning a playful shove from Joseph.

"I'm not gay!" Joseph protested, and the room erupted into laughter.

Shaking my head, I grabbed the painting and led the way to the living room. The guys followed, clearly curious about the finished piece. Once we were all settled, I unveiled the painting, holding it up for them to see.

A chorus of "wow" and clapping erupted as they took in the portrait, except for Jordan, who stared at it with an odd expression.

"Kate, that's incredible," Michen said, his eyes wide with admiration. "You really captured him."

"Yeah," Steven agreed. "But I'm next."

"No way," Joseph interrupted. "I'm next."

Jordan finally spoke, his voice filled with mock vanity. "Wow, I look so good. Look at that body. No wonder everyone's jealous."

"You're such a narcissist," Joseph said, snatching the painting from him. "You look like me, anyway."

"I do not," Jordan shot back. "You're the gay version of me."

The playful banter had me laughing, but when Jordan tried to hand the painting back, I pulled it away. "It's not free," I said with a smirk.

His jaw dropped. "What do you mean it's not free? I was your model!"

"You called it stupid earlier," I reminded him, my grin widening. "So now it's going to cost you—let's say a hundred thousand dollars."

"A hundred thousand dollars?" Jordan shouted, looking horrified. "I don't have that kind of money!"

The guys burst into laughter at his expense, and I couldn't help but join in. "Fine," I relented, shoving the painting back at him. "Just take it."

He was still grumbling about my "outrageous demands" when Lucio's voice cut through the room. "What's going on?"

The laughter died instantly, and my heart skipped a beat. I turned slowly to see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his sharp green eyes fixed on me.

"Kate wanted a hundred grand for a painting," Jordan said casually, clearly unfazed by Lucio's intimidating presence.

Lucio's gaze didn't waver as he asked, "And why do you need a hundred grand, Kate?"

I fumbled for an answer, the intensity of his stare making me feel cornered. "I—I don't," I stammered. "It was a joke."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing more. I took the opportunity to make my escape, heading for the stairs. But as I climbed, my foot slipped on a wet step, and I tumbled forward, landing with a sharp cry of pain.

"Kate!" the guys called out, rushing toward me.

Lucio was there in an instant, his hands gripping my arms as he helped me sit up. "What the hell were you doing?" he demanded, his voice low and sharp. "You could have seriously hurt yourself."

"I didn't spill water on the stairs, if that's what you're implying," I snapped, wincing as pain shot through my ankle.

"Can you walk?" Michen asked, stepping forward to help, but I shook my head.

"I'm fine," I insisted, pushing his hands away. "I can do it myself."

"You're being ridiculous," Lucio said, scooping me up into his arms before I could protest further. "And stubborn."

"Put me down," I grumbled, but he ignored me, carrying me to my room and setting me gently on the bed.

"Stay there," he ordered, heading to the bathroom. When he returned with a damp cloth, he knelt by the bed and placed it on my swollen ankle.

"You need to be more careful," he said, his tone softer now, though his expression remained stern. "What were you thinking, running up the stairs like that?"

"I wasn't running," I muttered, folding my arms. "And I didn't plan to fall, if that's what you're wondering."

His lips quirked in a faint smirk, but he said nothing, focusing on my ankle instead. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he broke it.

"Do you always argue this much?" he asked, his tone teasing.

"Only when you're around," I shot back, unable to hide the hint of a smile.

"Lucky me," he said dryly, standing and brushing his hands on his pants. "Don't get out of that bed until your ankle's better. I mean it, Kate."

As he left the room, I sighed and leaned back against the pillows, a strange warmth spreading through me. Despite his gruff demeanor, there was something about Lucio that made me feel... safe. And that terrified me more than anything else.

The door clicked shut behind Lucio, leaving me alone in the quiet of my room. I stared at the ceiling, the warmth of his touch still lingering on my skin. I wasn't sure what had just happened—or how I felt about it.

Lucio had been stern, bossy as always, but there was something different in his voice tonight. He wasn't just scolding me; he was worried. That small realization made my chest tighten. It was easier when I could hate him for being overbearing. But this—this complicated the carefully built wall I'd placed between us. 

The sound of muffled voices reached my ears as I sat on the bed, still stewing over my earlier argument with Lucio. The quiet intensity of the exchange piqued my curiosity. I tiptoed to the door and pressed my ear against it. The voices were clearer now—Lucio and Emily.

"What were you thinking, Emily?" Lucio's voice was sharp, laced with controlled anger. "Pouring water on the stairs? Are you insane?"

"She's the problem!" Emily's voice was high-pitched, defensive. "That girl is manipulating everyone. She's making you soft, Lucio. You don't even see it!"

"You're wrong," Lucio snapped. "She's done nothing to deserve this. You could've killed her, Emily!"

I swung the door open, the force making it hit the wall with a loud thud. Both of their heads snapped toward me, surprise flashing across their faces. Emily's cheeks were flushed, her eyes wild, while Lucio's face was a mask of barely contained fury.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, stepping into the hallway. "Emily, you poured water on the stairs?"

"Stay out of this, Kate," Lucio said, holding up a hand to stop me, but I ignored him.

"No, I won't," I said, glaring at Emily. "What did I ever do to you? Is it that hard for you to mind your own business?"

Emily's face twisted into a sneer. "You don't belong here," she spat. "You're just some girl he picked up out of pity. You think you're special? You're not."

"Enough, Emily!" Lucio barked, his voice reverberating through the hallway. "Apologize to her."

Emily let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Apologize? To her? For what? For protecting you?"

"Protecting me from what?" Lucio's voice was low and dangerous now. "From someone who's done nothing but try to fit in here? You crossed a line, Emily."

I stepped closer to Emily, my anger boiling over. "You don't get to decide who belongs here. You don't get to put my life in danger because you can't handle your own insecurities."

Her face crumpled slightly at my words, and for a moment, I thought she might apologize. Instead, she turned to Lucio, her voice breaking. "You don't even see it, do you? She's going to ruin everything. She's going to ruin you!"

Lucio pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Emily, this isn't about me. This is about you taking responsibility for your actions."

"You don't care about me anymore," Emily said, her voice trembling. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stomped her foot like a petulant child. "You've replaced me with her!"

"That's not true, and you know it," Lucio said, his voice softer now. "But you need to understand that your behavior has consequences."

Emily's face twisted in frustration, and she let out a guttural scream. "I hate this! I hate her! I hate you!" She turned on her heel and stormed down the hallway, slamming the front door behind her as she left.

The silence that followed was deafening. I looked at Lucio, my chest still heaving from the confrontation. His expression was unreadable, his jaw tight as he stared at the spot where Emily had just been.

I pulled the blanket up to my chest, curling into a ball as I tried to make sense of it all. Just as I began to drift off, a soft knock sounded at the door.

"Kate," Michen's voice was muffled through the wood. "Can I come in?"

I hesitated. "Sure," I called back, sitting up and adjusting the blanket to cover my legs.

Michen stepped inside, his usual grin dimmed by concern. He held a tray with a cup of tea and a small plate of cookies. "Thought you might want this," he said, setting it down on the nightstand.

"Thanks," I said, giving him a weak smile. "You didn't have to."

He shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, but I figured after falling down the stairs and dealing with Lucio's lectures, you deserved it."

I chuckled softly, picking up the tea. The warmth of the cup was comforting, but it wasn't enough to distract me from my swirling thoughts.

Michen tilted his head, studying me. "You okay, Kate? You've been... different lately. Quiet."

I sipped the tea, stalling for time. "It's just a lot," I admitted finally. "Being here, dealing with everything—it's overwhelming."

He nodded, his expression sympathetic. "You know, you don't have to figure it all out alone. We're here. I'm here."

"I know," I said, and I meant it. Despite all the chaos, Michen and the others had become an unexpected source of comfort. "But sometimes, it's hard to... trust that."

He opened his mouth to respond, but the door creaked open again, and Lucio stepped inside. His eyes flicked to Michen, narrowing slightly. "You're still here," he said, his voice low.

Michen raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Relax, King. I was just making sure Kate's okay."

"I'm fine," I interjected quickly, not wanting this to escalate. "Michen was just leaving."

Michen shot me a look that clearly said, You sure? I nodded, and with a shrug, he stood and headed for the door. "Get some rest, Kate," he said over his shoulder before disappearing into the hallway.

Lucio leaned against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on me. The tension in the room was palpable. "You should be sleeping," he said after a moment.

"I was trying," I replied, setting the tea down. "But apparently, I'm the house's entertainment tonight."

He smirked faintly, stepping closer. "You don't make it easy, Kate."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"You're reckless," he said bluntly. "You don't listen. And you drive me insane."

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Well, maybe if you weren't so overbearing, I wouldn't feel the need to fight back."

His smirk vanished, replaced by a look I couldn't quite decipher. "I'm not overbearing. I'm trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" I shot back. "Myself?"

"From people like Emily. From the dangers you don't even see," he said, his voice rising slightly.

"Emily?" I laughed bitterly. "Your psycho sister who decided to pour water on the stairs and nearly kill me? That Emily?"

His jaw tightened. "She's gone. She won't bother you again."

"Great," I said sarcastically. "But what about the next Emily? Or the next time you decide I'm too much trouble and lock me away like some kind of prisoner?"

His eyes flashed, and he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Is that what you think this is? Me trying to control you?"

"What else would you call it?" I snapped, refusing to back down.

He was silent for a long moment, his gaze boring into mine. "I call it trying to keep you alive."

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died on my tongue. His expression wasn't angry anymore; it was raw, vulnerable in a way I'd never seen before.

"Do you have any idea what would happen to you out there?" he continued, his voice softer now. "The people I deal with—they wouldn't think twice about hurting you just to get to me. You think I'm controlling? Fine. Hate me for it. But I won't apologize for keeping you safe."

I looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze. The weight of his words settled heavily on my chest. "I never asked for your protection," I said quietly.

"You didn't have to," he replied, his tone firm. "You're under my roof, Kate. That means you're my responsibility."

The room fell silent, the tension between us thick and suffocating. Finally, he straightened, running a hand through his hair. "Get some sleep," he said, his voice gruff. "We'll talk in the morning."

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.