CHAPTER 101: THREE HEARTS : ONE ME

Hailee’s POV

Nathan turned slowly to face him, his jaw ticking. "I was here first."

Callum scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. "Yeah? By what—thirty seconds? I’m the one Lila texted."

"I’m the one she answered on the phone," Nathan snapped. "And I got here in ten minutes flat."

"Ten minutes?" Callum raised a brow. "I made it in seven. I hit 160 kilometers an hour."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "I was doing 140, but unlike you, I didn’t almost run two red lights."

"Oh, so now it’s a competition?" Callum rolled his eyes. "Her best friend called me because she trusts me."

"And I’m—" Nathan paused, grinding his teeth.

He didn’t finish that sentence, and somehow that silence spoke louder.

I looked between them, my heart pounding. The tension between them was thick enough to choke on.

Then Dane stepped forward, inserting himself between the two. "Guys, seriously? You’re arguing over who came first?"

They both turned to him, not backing down.

Dane tilted his head. "Since you three are arguing, I should just take her home."

Nathan scoffed. "You don’t even know her like we do, Dane."

Dane’s eyes flared. "You’re joking, right?"

"Oh please," Callum muttered, rubbing his temple. "We’re not doing this."

"Yes, we are," Nathan shot back. "Because while you two were fighting over texts and posts, I was the one she actually picked up the phone for."

I held up both hands and shouted, "Enough!"

They all stopped and looked at me like I’d just thrown cold water on them.

I stood, wobbling slightly, but I didn’t let it stop me.

"I don’t care who got here first. This isn’t a damn race! I didn’t ask any of you to come."

Their faces fell, but I didn’t stop.

"I came here to be alone. I needed space. And now you’re all here, turning this into some kind of twisted pissing contest."

Dane opened his mouth to speak, but I raised a hand sharply.

"Don’t. Just... don’t."

I grabbed my purse and looked at the bartender. "Thanks for the drinks."

Then, turning to the guys, I muttered, "Goodnight," and walked away—no plan, no direction—just away from all of them.

My head spun—not just from the alcohol, but from the chaos they brought with them.

I barely made it halfway to the exit when a hand gently closed around my wrist.

I froze.

"Nathan," I said without turning.

"It’s raining outside," he uttered quietly. "Let me at least walk you to the car."

Before I could reply, Callum stepped beside us. "My car’s closer."

Then Dane stepped up on my other side, hands buried in his pockets. "You two have your own agendas for taking her home."

I whipped around, nearly losing my balance as I stared at the three of them.

"This is insane," I muttered. "You’re all acting like I’m a prize to be won."

"You’re not a prize," Nathan said quickly. "You’re someone I care about."

Callum stepped forward. "I’m worried for you."

"And I’m not backing away just because they got here faster," Dane added, looking at them both. "This isn’t about time."

I groaned, dragging my hands over my face. "This is not what I need right now."

"You don’t have to pick any of us," Nathan said softly. "But please... just don’t walk out into the night alone."

There was something about the way he said it—so gentle, so full of quiet desperation—that made my chest ache.

"I’m not choosing anyone," I murmured, voice tight. "Because I don’t even know what I want."

Callum opened his mouth to speak, but for once, he stopped himself.

"I’m taking her home," Dane said suddenly.

"No, you’re not," Nathan countered, stepping in.

They all went quiet again.

The club lights flickered across their faces—three men, three stories, three versions of something that could’ve been love or just more confusion.

"I’ll call a cab," Nathan said firmly. "She goes home Alone. No one follows her."

"Nathan..." Dane started.

"That is final," he repeated, turning on his heels as he walked through the exit door.

I sucked a deep breath and stared at both Callum and Dane who didn’t look satisfied with Nathan’s suggestion, but I knew it was the best.

Choosing to go home with any of them would be a disaster.

I walked toward the door, not looking back to see if they followed. I didn’t have to—they always did.

The night air hit me hard. Cool and damp. It had rained, just like Nathan had said, and the scent of wet concrete filled my lungs.

A black car idled by the curb, headlights glowing softly in the misty dark.

Nathan was already standing beside the back door, arms folded, eyes locked on me. "Cab’s here."

I swallowed hard.

Callum and Dane flanked me again, footsteps crunching on the wet gravel as we made our way to the car.

I opened the door and slid in without a word. The air inside was warm, smelling faintly of peppermint and old leather.

Nathan leaned down and spoke to the driver, his voice low but authoritative. "Drive safely. Straight to her apartment. No detours."

The driver blinked in surprise, but nodded.

Then Callum stepped up beside him, pulled out his wallet, and stuffed a crisp wad of bills through the window. "If she texts me even slightly off, you’ll be hearing from me."

The driver’s eyes widened.

And then Dane leaned forward, resting a hand on the car roof as he met the driver’s gaze squarely. "Her safety first. Don’t stop. Don’t talk. Don’t mess this up."

I blinked at them, stunned.

But Nathan wasn’t finished.

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a sleek, folded card. The black-and-silver seal of the Full Moon Pack gleamed faintly under the streetlamp.

He flicked it open, revealing his credentials.

The Alpha heir’s insignia.

The driver’s jaw dropped slightly.

"I’m Nathan Dominic Luciano," he said, voice clipped. "Alpha heir of the Full Moon Pack. If anything happens to her, I’ll know. And you’ll answer for it."

The driver stammered, "Y-Yes, sir. Of course."

I groaned, slumping back in the seat. "You guys seriously threatened a cab driver?"

"Just covering our bases," Callum said with a shrug, hands in his pockets.

"He seemed slow to take orders," Dane added.

Nathan met my eyes through the open door. His expression had softened again, the authority melting away for just a moment.

"Text me when you get home. Please."

I nodded slowly. "I will."

"Goodnight, Hailee," Callum murmured.

Dane added, "Sweet dreams, firecracker."

The door shut, and the cab pulled away.

I didn’t look back.

But in the rearview mirror, I saw all three of them standing at the curb.

Silent, tense, and still watching me disappear into the night.

Three men. Three hearts. One me.

And I didn’t know whose I’d break first.

The ride home was silent.

I rested my head against the window, watching the city blur past—neon lights, wet roads, the occasional flicker of headlights.

My fingers toyed with the hem of my dress, mind still swirling with everything that had just happened.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of home, I was exhausted. Not just physically, but emotionally—drained.

I paid the driver, gave him a small, tired smile, and climbed out.

The rain had stopped, but the pavement still glistened, reflecting the pale moonlight above. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and hurried to my window.

I managed to climb the walls and jumped into the balcony before entering through my window. As I stepped into the silence of my apartment, the familiar scent of lavender and vanilla greeted me, but it didn’t bring the comfort it usually did.

I threw off my heels, shrugged off my jacket, and made a beeline for the window in my bedroom.

It was my favorite place to stand when I needed to breathe—to think.

I pushed it open, letting the cool night air rush in. The city below sparkled, quiet and alive at the same time.

I closed my eyes, letting the breeze hit my face... until a vibration buzzed in my back pocket.

I frowned, pulled out my phone.

One message.

Peter: "There is trouble. Pick up. Now."

My heart skipped a beat.

Then it vibrated again.

Another message.

Peter: "I’m serious, Hailee."

I stared at the screen, confusion and fear swirling in my chest.

Trouble?

I swallowed, my thumb hovering over the screen.

And then it rang.

Peter.

I didn’t pick it.

Not yet.

I just stood there at the open window, the wind brushing through my hair, my pulse pounding.

Something was coming.

Something I wasn’t ready for.