Ah, Kala really wanted to claw that disgusting, seductive face.
From time to time, she caught glimpses of Rilen trying to touch Ken. But Ken subtly avoided her every attempt.
That was just like him.
Raken was a man of manners. If he had to refuse, he would do it gently—so the other person wouldn't feel offended. Especially women.
…Or was Kala imagining things?
Or did Rilen actually manage to touch his wrist?
No.
It was real.
Right there, in front of her—
Ken let Rilen touch him.
Where was the promise he had just made?
Since when did Raken break his word?
And to her?
To Kalaya Ningtyas?
Rilen Mahatma.
She had taken enough.
Kala would never let Raken fall into her hands.
Not as long as she was still breathing.
Kala walked toward Raken.
Rilen was already gone, leaving no trace behind. But Kala knew—she had been there.
Raken frowned slightly when Kala didn't reach for his hand like she usually did.
How could this little girl not touch him?
She even walked ahead… leaving him behind.
His gaze lingered on her small figure growing further away.
His mind filled with questions.
What could possibly make Kala forget his presence?
Inside the car, Kala chose to sit in the front seat beside the driver.
There was nothing she wanted to say to Raken.
She just wanted to rest.
The sound of car doors closing echoed softly.
Silence followed.
Neither the driver nor Raken understood what was happening.
Their young lady simply closed her eyes.
What they didn't know—
Was that anger and disappointment were quietly brewing inside her.
The car moved forward.
No one spoke.
Raken chose to remain silent, letting Kala stay in her own world.
But something bothered him.
Kala… seemed upset with him.
He turned his gaze toward her.
She looked like a sulking kitten.
Her head rested against the window, her shoulders no longer as upright as usual.
It made him uneasy.
What had happened to make her lose her spirit like this?
Kala stared ahead.
Her eyes faced the road—
But her thoughts didn't.
All she could see in her mind…
Was Rilen's hand touching Raken's wrist.
Damn it.
Would Raken leave her?
If he did… what would happen?
Who would tie her shoelaces the way he always did?
Who would feed her breakfast while she was busy doing other things?
Ah…
Raken was too good at everything.
Even fixing her hair.
She didn't want to lose him.
Kala suddenly turned her head.
Raken, who had been watching her, slightly raised his brow in surprise.
He hadn't expected that.
Kala let out a rough breath… before turning back to face the road again.
This time, she focused on the passing vehicles.
On the spinning wheels moving so fast.
Could she run that fast?
Run far enough to leave Raken behind?
No.
She knew the answer.
Raken would chase her—
Even to the ends of the earth.
But…
What if Rilen Mahatma was already there?
Would she still be his priority?
The thought alone was unbearable.
Kala repeatedly tried to calm herself.
It was just a nightmare.
Something that would never happen.
And even if it did—
Raken would wake her up.
He would stay by her side until she fell asleep again.
But deep down…
In the deepest corner of her heart—
She was terrified.
The car stopped.
Raken was about to open the door for her—
But Kala had already stepped out on her own.
Both Raken and the driver froze.
They exchanged confused glances.
This wasn't like her.
Hanganto was on the phone when Kala walked past him—almost running up the stairs toward her room.
Raken followed behind, unable to hide his confusion.
Even Hanganto found it strange.
He was used to seeing them side by side.
Kala always held onto Raken—
Or Raken guided her.
Sometimes, he even carried her when she fell asleep or acted spoiled.
So this…
Was a rare phenomenon.
No wonder Raken looked like that.
Hanganto could only cheer him on silently.
It seemed like… there would be an unusual "show" in the coming days.
The pillow that was once clean and fragrant was now soaked.
Tears seeped into the soft fabric.
Kala hadn't even changed her clothes.
Her body was too exhausted.
Her eyes felt like they might shatter at any moment.
She had no choice but to bury her face into the pillow—
Silencing her cries.
A soft knock came from outside the door.
She knew exactly who it was.
But she ignored it.
Wrapping herself tighter in the blanket, she continued crying.
Not long after—
The door opened.
Soft footsteps approached.
Then… nothing.
Only silence.
And the quiet sound of Kala's sobs.
Raken stood beside the bed.
His eyes fixed on the lump beneath the blanket.
He didn't know what to do.
So he simply stood there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Hoping she would peek out… and call his name like usual.
He wanted to see her face.
Was she still crying with tears and snot mixed together?
Were her cheeks still flushed red?
Did those dark brown eyes turn red at the corners like before?
He stayed.
Observing every small movement beneath the blanket.
Even the slight shifts when she felt too warm—
Nothing escaped his attention.
Until finally…
The sobbing stopped.
Only the steady sound of her breathing remained.
She had fallen asleep.
Slowly, Raken stepped closer.
Carefully, he pulled back the blanket.
He didn't want to wake her.
Kala's face was flushed.
Tears and traces of snot covered her cheeks.
Her long hair was messy, some strands sticking to her damp skin.
Raken gently moved the hair away.
Making sure she could breathe comfortably.
The warmth of her cheeks spread to his fingertips.
His expression darkened.
How long had she been crying?
How suffocating had it been under that blanket?
Who did this to her?
Who dared hurt his lady?
He wouldn't let it go.
He adjusted the blanket so it wouldn't wrap her too tightly.
Then removed the shoes still on her feet.
After that, he left the room—
Thinking about how to ask her what happened when she woke up.
Hopefully…
She would feel better tomorrow.
Kala walked down the stairs without enthusiasm.
Her steps were weak.
Her vision felt narrow.
Her head was heavy.
She needed water…
And ice to soothe her swollen eyes.
Near the kitchen, she saw her father—
Talking to a tall man in a black-gray suit.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
Honestly, Raken didn't look like a bodyguard.
He looked more like an actor… or a businessman.
He had helped the Ningtyas family in many ways.
Even her father often discussed business with him.
And Raken always had answers.
As if he was created to be perfect.
There was nothing he couldn't do.
Yes.
The man standing there—
Was Raken.
The same man who made her cry all night.
"Morning, Dad."
"Morning, sweetheart."
Hanganto replied briefly before returning to his conversation.
Kala walked past them—
Ignoring the one person who kept staring at her with questions.
"Be patient… daughters are like that. Their moods are unpredictable. She'll come looking for you again."
Hanganto understood immediately.
Raken's expression said it all.
Hanganto left.
Leaving Kala alone—
Pressing ice against her eyes.
Silence stretched between them.
Until—
A hand took the ice from her.
"Don't overdo it."
Kala opened her eyes.
Raken was already in front of her.
He pulled her gently toward the sink.
Water flowed over her hands.
Warmth spread through her fingers…
Reaching somewhere deeper.
"I can do it myself."
Her voice came out hoarse.
Unexpected.
Raken carefully dried her hands.
Even something this small—
He handled it with care.
And that only made it worse.
Made her remember—
That hand…
Had been touched last night.
Kala suddenly pulled her hand away.
"Don't touch other people carelessly!"
"But you're not 'other people.'"
Raken clenched his fist subtly.
Holding back his irritation.
His face remained calm—
Expressionless.
But his dark eyes, locked onto hers…
Were full of questions.
Questions demanding answers.
Kala knew.
But she refused to explain.
She turned her head away.
The longer she faced him—
The more annoyed she became.
"Talk, Kala."
Silence.
"Kala, you know what I mean."
His tone sharpened.
Raken was losing patience—
Something that rarely happened.
"Fine… I won't ask again, my la—"
"Your hand."
Kala finally gave in.
"What about my hand—Ah."
Raken stopped mid-sentence.
He understood.
"Misunderstanding, Kala."
"That crazy woman touched you!"
Her voice rose, louder than it should have.
Something inside her exploded—
And she didn't even know why.
Was it because he broke his promise?
Or because someone touched what belonged to her?
Either way—
She hated it.
"Your hand is dirty, Ken. Don't touch me with it."
"Should I cut it off… so you'll forgive me?"
"Don't be insane, Ken!"
"That might be better."
"Then how will you feed me if it's gone?!"
Kala panicked.
She knew he wasn't joking.
He never joked about things like that.
"You said you don't want to be touched by a dirty hand, didn't you?"
A faint smirk appeared on Raken's lips.
"No! Don't do it, Ken! I don't want a one-handed bodyguard!"
"Better than being useless."
"YOU'RE USEFUL! Just wash your hands! If it's dirty, you clean it—not cut it off!"
The thought of him actually doing it…
Terrified her.
Yes, she was angry.
But not enough to lose the hand that had always held her steady.
Raken was everything.
His hands—
Were hers too.
Raken always found her amusing.
Her expressions.
Her reactions.
There was always something new.
Something adorable.
Now, it was Kala's turn—
Dragging him toward the sink.
As if trying to wash away Rilen's touch.
"I've already showered, Kala. I've washed these hands."
"Really?"
Kala stopped.
Searching his face for a lie—
But found none.
"Want to watch me shower?"
"Daddy! Ken is nasty—hmpf!"
Before she could finish—
Raken quickly covered her mouth.