The dorm was as silent as always when I entered. I moved toward my bed, placing the plastic bag I had brought down. After days trapped in that place, one of the things I craved most was a proper shower, so I headed straight for the bathroom.
As I stripped off my clothes, I finally saw the extent of my injuries. My arms were riddled with cigarette burns, mingled with bruises and fresh welts from bullets. One gunshot wound marred my thigh, but most of the injuries were scratches and deep abrasions.
I studied my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were almost blackened from exhaustion, my face gaunt. I stared at myself with a hard intensity. This wasn't the first time my life had been in danger, nor the first time someone tried to kill me. In ten years, I had faced countless horrors. But… this felt different. Vulnerable. Weak.
I wiped the tears escaping my eyes and stepped into the shower. Cold water crashed over my aching body, lancing through my wounds. Anger was no longer enough to describe the hatred I felt for Damian.
Some fresh cuts began to bleed again, turning the water pooling on the floor a deep red as it ran toward the drain. I had no sense of how long I stayed under the spray. When I finally stepped out, Maximus had just entered the dorm. We froze and stared at each other. My gaze was icy; his was blank as he scanned my battered body.
"Still alive," he said, after a long pause, walking toward his bed, hands buried in his pockets.
I watched him until he stopped in front of his bed. One by one, he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it into the laundry basket as if I weren't even there.
"Nice view?" he asked, glancing at me with a smirk. "If you're interested, just say the word. I'm good."
I rolled my eyes and walked toward my bed. I didn't want to waste my strength arguing with Max, so I stayed silent despite his teasing. I pulled the towel from my hair, but before I could place it on the side table, my eyes fell on the plastic bag I had set on the bed. I remembered Leo.
"After Ace… now Leo?" Max's voice pulled me from my thoughts. He was turned away, busy selecting clothes, but held up a piece and looked at me. My brow furrowed at his words.
"Ace died for you. Today, Leo just took a grenade for you. He killed Carlos using PCP, and he's even willing to face Dad's wrath for saving you."
"What are you talking about?" I snapped at him.
"What I'm saying is… what's wrong with you that my siblings are losing their minds over you?"
I met Max's gaze, cold and sharp. His eyes didn't waver, even as he dressed. My mind scrambled to process him.
"Never mind," he said, finishing buttoning his shirt. He rolled the sleeves to his elbows, opened the drawer beside his bed, and pulled out a .45 caliber pistol. "Remember this—if anything happens to my brother because of you, I won't forgive you."
Gun in hand, Max walked past me and left the dorm. I was left standing there, digesting his words. Was he implying Leo had feelings for me? Impossible.
A day passed. I wanted to go to class, but my injuries wouldn't allow it. I spent the day resting, barely noticing the comings and goings of the siblings—or if they even appeared while I slept.
It was hard to believe Max's words, and even though I knew it was impossible, I couldn't shake the unease.
By the fourth night of recovery in the dorm, Leo appeared, tending to the dressing on my arm while I sat on my bed. I didn't look at him directly, but I saw him moving toward his own bed.
"Any news about your father? How's Kiel?" I asked coldly, wrapping my wound. I had heard nothing from Kiel since I escaped, and I had no idea how Damian reacted to my survival. I feared he might retaliate against Kiel.
"He's fine. Don't worry," Leo replied, removing his jacket. That was enough to end the topic, but I couldn't stop thinking about Max's words.
The silence stretched between us. Leo sat on his bed, facing my direction. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. My mind wrestled with whether I should ask, or just stay silent. It was impossible.
"How are your injuries?" he finally asked after a long pause.
"They're nothing," I said without looking at him.
Leo sighed and stood. I expected him to leave, but instead, he came closer and perched on the edge of my bed. He gently took the bandage from my hands.
"Ace died for you. You shouldn't be letting yourself fall apart," he said.
His eyes never met mine; they were focused on my wound. I studied him, analyzing him. I didn't know what made him show this concern, but it didn't move me. Even now, this was far from the demonic Leo I knew—but still, he was a Fontanilla. I couldn't trust him.
"What are you doing?" I whispered.
Leo paused, glancing up briefly. I watched him carefully, suspecting he might be manipulating me, just like Max. After a moment, he smiled faintly and returned to tending my wound.
"Dressing your wound?" he said softly, letting out a quiet laugh.
"If you think I'm going to look at you the way I looked at Ace, you're wrong," I snapped.
Leo's brow furrowed. "What are you saying?"
I stared at him, anger boiling. "You're doing this to get back at me, aren't you? Ace died because of me… You're trying to keep me close—no… I don't know what's going through your mind, but I know what you're doing."
Leo's jaw tightened. His bright eyes and faint smile hardened into tension. He finished wrapping my wound before looking at me from beneath his lashes.
"Stop overthinking, Xena."
"Stop whatever you're planning. This sudden concern of yours is suspicious. Pretending I didn't notice… just stop," I snapped.
"You're wrong, Xena—"
"You're trying to seduce me. You think I wouldn't notice?" I said sharply, smirking faintly.
Leo went silent for a long moment, then defended himself. "You've no interest in me, why would I try? I know Ace is the one you want."
"Exactly."
I stood from the bed, unwilling to prolong the conversation. I had to leave this room, go to the mansion, and face Damian—injured or not. I grabbed my motorcycle key from the dresser and walked toward the door.
Before I could step outside, Leo spoke.
"I'm not trying to seduce you," he said. I froze mid-step, turning to face him. He looked serious. Stepping closer, he added, "I'm trying to change your mind."
"To be killed?" I asked, incredulous.
"No. I want to change your mind about loving a Fontanilla," he said, locking eyes with me. My brain stalled.
I tore my gaze away, but before I could speak, he confessed:
"I like you, Xena."
A long silence followed.
My chest hammered against my ribs. Words failed me. How should I respond? Believe him… or doubt him?
"Nonsense…" I whispered, frowning, turning away. "You just want to kill me."
"I know it's hard to trust me after what I did to your life. But if I hadn't… would you even notice me?"
His voice rose slightly. I could sense his effort, and part of me wanted to believe him. But it was difficult.
Tears welled in my eyes as I faced him again. "True or not, I don't care. I'd rather die than look at you—or any of you."
"I understand your anger at Dad, but won't you reconsider? I can help you escape him. I can give you what you want—"
"I want nothing but the death of your entire family. Can you kill your father for me?"
Leo fell silent. I knew he couldn't.
"X-Xena… that's not—"
"Then I'll pretend this conversation never happened. I'll forget what you said and act as if I know nothing. Step aside, because my mind and my heart will never change toward any of you."
I left the dorm and walked out of the building. Tears fell, but I wiped them quickly. I had no time for fantasies about love like Leo's—they would only slow me down.
I cared for Ace, but that wasn't enough to betray my principles. Why would I be shaken by Leo's confession when I felt nothing for him?
By the time I reached the mansion, it was past ten at night. I intended to see Kiel first, but as I walked, I passed Damian in the garden. He hadn't noticed me, staring blankly into the darkness. I paused, fists clenched.
"You won't kill me this easily, Damian. You won't kill me as long as my determination to make you pay for everything you stole from me remains intact," I whispered into the night, envisioning his end in my mind.