Chapter 455

Francis sat heavily on the floor, his heart pounding. His eyes fell to his chest beneath the barbaric [presumably a garment or device; needs clarification] restraints, and his mind replayed the terrifying images of being drugged and strapped to a table, ready for surgery. "Is this it? Is my fate sealed? Am I really going to lose my organs?" Francis swallowed hard, disbelief and fear tightening his throat.

Odalys leaned thoughtfully against the wall, observing him closely. She could see the fear rising in his eyes.

"Odalys, can the talisman be replaced? Should I give mine to Francis? Let him use it," Freya asked softly, her concern evident.

Freya and Stellan both produced their talismans. Unlike Francis's, which had been burned to ashes, the other three were intact. It seemed the darkening of their foreheads was tied to Francis's misfortune.

Francis had thought that once he sent his ex-girlfriend and manager to jail, everything would be over. But now [The sentence fragment needs completion. Perhaps: "now he felt even more threatened."] He felt uncomfortable.

"Why are they so obsessed with my organs? Out of everyone in the world, why me?" he thought bitterly.

"No, don't do that," Odalys interrupted, her voice calm but firm. "The talismans I gave you are connected. If you give your astrological talisman to him, you'll all be drawn into this mess, too."

The others froze, their hands hovering hesitantly in mid-air.

Francis's gaze was steady as he pushed their talismans back toward them. "From now on, stay away from me. Even if something happens to me, you'll have a better chance of staying safe if you keep your distance."

He was serious. He didn't want any of them to get caught up in his troubles.

The others exchanged a glance. "Our fates are all linked now. You can't just tell us to stay away from you like that," Stellan said, his voice soft but resolute. "We're not the type to abandon a friend when trouble strikes."

Freya and Selah nodded in agreement.

"Fine, you two avoid him," Stellan continued. "Tonight, I'm staying with him."

Since meeting Odalys, Stellan had felt more alive, more human. Before, as a celebrity, he was always hiding behind a mask, playing a part. But now, with these people, he felt like he could finally let his guard down.

Selah and Freya exchanged another glance and, without a word, went to the door. They returned moments later, each carrying pillows and blankets, which they tossed onto the carpet.

"For tonight, we're all staying here," Freya said firmly, her voice carrying a fierce determination. "Let's see who dares come after him now." With a flourish, she threw two fruit knives onto the floor, the metal clinking sharply. She smirked. "Whoever comes near him—one knife each. Let's see who can handle that."

"Hell no, keep that knife away from me!" Selah joked, laughing nervously.

Francis sat in stunned silence, his heart heavy. He looked at the three of them, his eyes filled with emotion. His life abroad as an international model had always been tough—he'd worked hard to get where he was, constantly looked down upon. But now, back in his home country, he had found true friendship, true care, and they were willing to risk their lives for him.

"Where's Odalys? Why did she hang up?" Freya asked, frowning as she glanced at her phone. She checked her screen and saw that Odalys had ended the video call ten minutes ago.

The group exchanged uncertain glances. Stellan stood up, grabbed his blankets and pillows, and locked the door.

7:33 AM

Chapter 435

"My bodyguards are outside. Four are standing guard, and three more are downstairs. If anyone approaches, they'll knock and warn us. I don't think we have anything to worry about," Stellan reassured them, though his tone was tinged with concern. Though he seemed confident, there was a hint of anxiety behind his words. But he couldn't afford to let fear seep into their minds. They needed to stay strong.

"Thanks," Francis said, his voice dry and hoarse. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly protected. He thought back to the last time he'd been attacked—when his ex-manager and ex-girlfriend had barged into his villa, planning to harvest his organs. He had been desperate and hopeless, sure that he was about to die. But in that moment, when Odalys and the others had appeared, it felt like they were sent to save him. They had been his angels in the dark.

"Don't mention it. Go to sleep; we've got a shoot tomorrow afternoon," Stellan said, his usual ease returning as he made a "please rest" gesture toward Freya and Selah, who were already getting into bed. The two men sprawled out on the carpet.

The lights were still on, but none of them felt like sleeping. Odalys's words—their foreheads darkened by ill fortune—kept echoing in their minds. Sleep seemed impossible. The room was unnervingly quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional sound of someone swallowing nervously. They all lay still, almost afraid to move, as though any movement might invite disaster.

Then, without warning, a loud clang shattered the silence. They all jumped, instinctively scrambling toward the window. From there, they could see chaos unfolding below. The sound of fire alarms filled the air.

The shrill alarm continued to echo through the hotel. Suddenly, they heard someone banging on the door. "Hurry, there's a fire! Get out now!"

The hotel was on fire. Guests were rushing out of their rooms, many only in their underwear or wrapped in bed sheets. Some were barefoot; others were still in their pajamas. Most of the people in the hotel were actors, crew members, or producers. No one cared about their appearance anymore—all that mattered was escaping with their lives. Below, the fire raged, and the hotel staff and security were doing their best to put it out.

The smoke thickened, and then their bodyguards burst into the room.

"What happened? Why did the fire start so suddenly?" Stellan asked, his expression filled with confusion.

The bodyguards exchanged serious glances. "We checked it out. The fire's spreading faster than expected. Something's off about how it started," one of them said, his voice tense. "We need to leave now. If we don't, it'll be too late."

Francis knew they couldn't wait any longer. The fire could block their escape routes, or worse, cause an explosion. They had to get out.

"We go now. If this is really because of me, hiding in the room won't help," he said, his voice low but resolute.

Stellan nodded, grabbing his things. "We're leaving. But you need to stay with us. No running off on your own."

They quickly rushed into the bathroom, soaking towels to cover their noses and mouths. They threw blankets around their shoulders and rushed out, desperate to get away from the smoke. As they exited, they were stopped by a hotel staff member, who urgently waved them toward the back exit.

"Hurry, the main exit is blocked. We need to use the back door, take the stairwell down, or we won't make it!" the staff member shouted. The fire was spreading too fast, and time was running out.