In the years of Beckett’s life filled with sorrow and grief, there was only one thing that truly calmed him, especially during moments of inner weakness. It was their family picture that he had taken at a studio when he was still a child-before he was sent to Milan to continue his studies.
He was only ten years old back then, yearning for more time with his family. However, he couldn’t have it. His parents kept him in the States for a brief moment, and then he was scheduled to have a flight back to Italy.
At such a young age, Beckett didn’t understand that something was amiss. He thought that his parents simply didn’t want him around, which is why they constantly kept him at a distance.
“Beckett, my son, once everything is better, we will join you there, alright?” Ylona, Beckett’s mother, said before planting a kiss on his forehead. “That’s a promise.”
But that promise was eventually broken. As time went on, their meetings became increasingly infrequent. Beckett also became busy with school, striving to excel in his studies for his grades.
He aimed to make them proud, yet as soon as he achieved his dreams, his parents were taken away from him.
Suddenly, Beckett’s attention turned to the shattered family picture under Vivianne. He placed the picture frame on top of his dresser as a constant reminder of why he continued to navigate through this chaotic world.
However, at this moment, seeing that family picture broken beneath Vivianne brought forth his inner fear-almost like he was losing his parents all over again. The blood dripping onto their picture sent a shiver down his spine.
Beckett’s breathing was ragged, and suddenly, he found himself lost for words. What came to his mind was the scene he had encountered in their old house when he returned from Milan once before.
Blood… so much blood. There were numerous stab wounds as well. Given the extent of it, whoever did this must have been consumed by anger. That person had no mercy, no soul, and he needed to know who it was-
“Shit!” Beckett cursed under his breath, realizing that the memory of that incident had returned once again, almost causing him to drown in his contemplation.
He didn’t immediately realize that Vivianne’s hand was injured now from holding a piece of glass that had come from the shattered picture frame. Vivianne was also staring blankly, lost in deep thought, her gaze fixed on the family picture.
Beckett regained his composure for a moment before approaching Vivianne. It was only then that the woman snapped out of her reverie. Based on her reaction and the amount of blood that had dripped onto the picture frame, it seemed she had been lost in thought for a while, a fact that both puzzled and concerned Beckett.
Vivianne bit her lower lip, wincing from the pain in her finger. “I-I’m s-s-sorry-”
“Let that go,” Beckett intervened, gently taking the piece of glass from Vivianne’s grasp.
He placed it on the floor for now. He would clean up the room later, after tending to Vivianne.
“Come with me.”
Beckett pulled Vivianne towards the kitchen before turning on the faucet. He placed Vivianne’s fingers under the running water to clean the wound.
Vivianne winced as she felt the stinging sensation in her injury, and Beckett noticed. “We need to clean your wound, or it might get infected,” he said before guiding Vivianne to sit on the couch. “Wait here.”
Vivianne nodded, watching Beckett as he left and retrieved a first-aid kit from the cabinet. He quickly returned and took Vivianne’s hand to clean the wound.
Beckett was gentle as he tended to Vivianne’s injury. At that moment, Vivianne could tell that Beckett was skilled at cleaning wounds.
“You know how to do that? I thought you had people to take care of your injuries, especially after risky photoshoots,” Vivianne spoke up, breaking the silence between them.
“I have people, but I can clean my wound,” Beckett replied. “I learned that since I was a child. I don’t have anyone to help me, so I need to help myself.”
“Where are your parents, by the way?” Vivianne asked. She didn’t know what else to say, and besides, there was something she wanted to find out.
“They’re dead,” Beckett answered casually, but Vivianne could sense the pain behind his words.
‘Oh, fuck,’ Vivianne thought to herself. She thought Beckett would just say they were in another country, but she didn’t realize that Beckett was an orphan.
“S-Sorr-”
“You don’t need to.” Beckett wrapped Vivianne’s wound with a gauze bandage before tidying up the first-aid kit. He swiftly returned it to the cabinet before coming back to stand in front of Vivianne. “What were you planning to cook earlier?”
“H-Huh?” Vivianne blinked twice.
Beckett pointed to the pot where she had been cooking earlier. “You were supposed to cook something. With your injured hand, you’ll find it hard to cook.” He picked up the instant noodles resting on the countertop and raised them. “Do you still want this? Or should I cook a new dish?”
It was evident that Beckett was concerned about Vivianne, but despite his cool tone, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. She hadn’t opened up about the shattered picture frame, and he even offered to cook for her.
“Are you going to poison me?” Vivianne blurted out in nervousness.
Normally, when Vivianne asks or says silly things like that, Beckett would either go along with it or chuckle at her random comments. But today was different.
Beckett didn’t respond. Instead, he turned away from Vivianne and switched on the stove to boil water again. “I’ll just cook this one,” he said before starting to prepare the meal. He didn’t pay any more attention to Vivianne after that.
Vivianne’s anxiety intensified even more. She knew it now. Beckett was angry, and he was merely restraining himself.
‘Well, who wouldn’t be angry? You broke the picture frame and even got blood on it,’ Vivianne scolded herself silently, biting her lip. ‘You’re in trouble. You’re really in trouble now.’
An awkward silence settled between them as Beckett cooked the noodles. Vivianne couldn’t take her eyes off him. For a moment, she wondered if he really intended to poison her.
Thankfully, she was relieved that Beckett didn’t add anything strange to their food.
She wanted to explain what had happened and why the picture frame had broken, but she lost the courage to speak up. Until Beckett finished cooking and the food was prepared on the table, she hadn’t uttered a single sentence.
“You must be hungry. Let’s eat,” Beckett said before handing a bowl to Vivianne.
“Thank you,” the young woman replied.
They ate in silence afterward. Vivianne’s gaze kept returning to Beckett and the noodles she was eating because she couldn’t sit still. However, she still couldn’t find the right words to say.
It felt like uttering just one word might make the man lose control.
The Beckett Clainfer in front of her right now was the same person all of the fans knew from every photoshoot – cold, intimidating, yet attractive. But there was something different about him now.
His eyes were filled with pain.
‘Shit. I need to get this fucking guilt off my chest. It’s now or never.’
Vivianne tightened her grip on the fork before taking a deep breath. She lifted her gaze, intending to look at Beckett, but she was taken aback as he was already looking back at her.
“I-I’m sorry,” Vivianne apologized, her voice stumbling due to nervousness. “I-I mean, I was just looking at your picture, and it suddenly slipped from my hand. T-Then, I didn’t realize that my hand was bleeding. I was scared, so I didn’t notice that I was boiling-”
“Are you okay?” Beckett suddenly asked, causing Vivianne to halt her speech.
“Huh?” Vivianne’s brows furrowed, a mix of confusion and anxiety evident on her face.
“You look pale and scared.” Beckett filled a small glass with water before handing it to Vivianne. “Don’t mind the picture. I can have it reprinted if I want to.”
It was a lie.
That photo was unique as it had been taken at a studio, and when Beckett went back to buy its soft copy during his college years, it was already too late. The studio was closed, and he couldn’t find the owner again.
However, Beckett didn’t care much about that a few minutes later, which also surprised him. Initially, he felt fear and anger due to a sudden recollection of the past and the loss of the one thing he cherished.
“Now tell me, what’s bothering you?” Beckett asked again before leaning in closer to Vivianne and locking his gaze onto her eyes.
But now, he felt more afraid because something might have happened to Vivianne. He realized that if there was something he feared more at this moment, it was putting the woman he loved in danger. He wouldn’t let the same mistake happen again.
“Nothing…” Vivianne lied. In truth, something had been bothering her all this time. “I’m just wondering if you’re mad because of what I did.”
And that was the truth. She was slightly anxious that Beckett might be upset with her.
“Don’t overthink it too much. It’s fine. I’ll just call a housekeeper to clean the room later,” Beckett replied, his tone still cool but concerned. “Are you sure that nothing’s bothering you?” he asked again.
This time, his gaze remained fixed on Vivianne as he awaited her response.
“Nothing.” Vivianne shook her head before continuing with her meal.
Hearing her answer, Beckett clenched his left hand into a fist on his lap. At that moment, he knew that Vivianne was hiding something from him, and he needed to find out what it was.