Help! Get Me Out of My Sister's Chapter 66: ’Levi, the kind rogue’

As soon as Charles and Arthur left, Florian exhaled shakily, his hands trembling as he pressed them against his lap in an attempt to steady himself. His heart was still pounding from the encounter, and the cold sweat clinging to his back refused to dissipate. He sucked in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it in a slow, asured exhale.

’That was close. But I almost had him. Almost.’

The realization settled uncomfortably in his chest. In truth, Florian was sowhat relieved that his attempt hadn’t worked imdiately. He wasn’t ntally prepared to actually go through with it. Seducing a man—if that’s what this was—felt like crossing an uncharted, dangerous line. A line he wasn’t sure he was capable of stepping over just yet.

If it had been a woman he needed to seduce, it might have been easier. He still would have struggled, considering he had died a virgin, but at least it would have been tolerable. This, however... this was different. Unfamiliar. Unnerving.

Back when he was still Aden, he had been desensitized to male-on-male advances, having helped write this very novel. He had grown sowhat used to the suggestive jabs and lingering looks thanks to Lucius. But Charles and Arthur were a different matter entirely.

In the novel, those two had already forced themselves on Florian. Unlike Lucius, who, for all his faults, still had so semblance of restraint, Charles and Arthur had none until now.

Still, he had made his decision. Seduction was his best weapon—his best distraction. If he could lower their guard, even just a little, he could seize the mont to injure them and escape.

But then another problem arose.

’Even if I manage to take one of them down... there are still the other rogues outside.’

His brows furrowed in frustration. How far was he willing to go to make this plan work? Could he bring himself to act convincingly enough without completely losing himself in the process?

With a sigh, Florian sat back down on the sparse pile of hay that barely served as a bed. His mind drifted back to sothing else—sothing just as concerning.

’And then there’s their so-called boss. He doesn’t exist in the novel.’

Charles had always been the sole mastermind behind this kidnapping, the one leading the rogues. But now, there was soone above him, pulling the strings.

That single deviation was alarming, and the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he beca. If soone more powerful was involved, then things were far more complicated than he initially thought.

’I wonder who that person is... and if I’m going to et them eventually. I hope not.’

Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on sothing within his control. His hidden weapon.

A small smile played on his lips as his gaze flickered toward the makeshift bed. Underneath the thin layer of hay lay his only ans of defense—a fork. A ridiculous weapon, but a weapon nonetheless.

"At least I have one thing now," he muttered to himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. "It’s just a fork, but it’s better than nothing. People have used pencils to kill before... a fork should be easy, right?"

The words felt hollow the mont they left his lips.

The thought of taking a life—even in self-defense—made his stomach churn. He had never done it before. The idea of blood on his hands, of taking another person’s life, settled like lead in his gut. But then again...

’It’s better than getting assaulted.’

He clenched his jaw, gripping his arms tighter. He had to do what needed to be done. Regret could co later. Morality had no place in survival.

Just as his mind continued to spiral through the possibilities, the door creaked open, slow and hesitant. His body tensed imdiately, preparing for the worst. Was it Arthur? Charles? Had they changed their minds?

But to his relief, it was neither.

The kind rogue.

Florian’s shoulders sagged, a breath of relief escaping him as he relaxed just a fraction. He offered a small, tired smile.

"Oh, it’s you... I was wondering when I’d see you again."

The rogue hesitated in the doorway, seeming almost startled by Florian’s words. For a brief second, a dusting of pink colored his cheeks before he quickly turned his head away, adopting a more passive stance. He was fidgeting slightly, as if unsure of whether or not he should step inside.

"I saw that the leaders were here," he muttered. "I didn’t want to intrude."

Florian let out a dry, amused chuckle. "I would’ve preferred if you had." He tried to keep his tone light, still working to gain the rogue’s trust. If there was anyone he could manipulate into helping him, it was this one.

"I forgot to ask..." he continued, tilting his head slightly. "What’s your na?"

The rogue stiffened. His gaze flickered toward Florian for a brief mont before he looked away again.

"You don’t need to know."

’Bumr.’

Florian swallowed his disappointnt, forcing another smile. ’But I need to get more information out of him sohow... Even if he won’t tell his na, there has to be sothing he’s willing to slip.’

He just needed to keep him talking.

Florian’s gaze flickered to the empty plate as the rogue’s eyes briefly scanned it. The rogue looked slightly surprised, as if he hadn’t expected Florian to finish the al at all.

"You ate everything," the rogue remarked, his voice neutral, though there was a trace of curiosity beneath the words.

Florian offered a small shrug. "It was kind of bland," he admitted, "but it was alright."

A silence fell between them, thick and lingering. The rogue stood there, seeming unsure of whether to stay or leave, and Florian knew he had to keep the conversation going. He needed to get more out of him—anything that could be useful.

He cleared his throat. "So, why are you here?"

The rogue’s expression hardened instantly. He ignored the question, stepping forward to grab the tray.

’Oh.’

Florian tensed, his pulse quickening as he fought to keep his expression neutral. The fork. He prayed the rogue wouldn’t notice its absence. ’Fuck. I hope he doesn’t notice.’

He held his breath, watching the rogue carefully, but the man didn’t seem to realize anything was missing.

’Oh, thank fucking God.’

Relief coursed through him as the rogue turned, tray in hand, heading for the door. He was about to leave.

No.

Florian needed him to stay.

"Wait!" Florian blurted, his voice louder than he intended. The rogue froze mid-step and turned, brows furrowing in surprise.

Think, think, think—how could he make him stay?

Then, like a lifeline, Lucius’ advice resurfaced in his mind. The sa advice that had yet to work.

Gain sympathy.

Florian swallowed down his pride and let his body tremble slightly, forcing his shoulders to curl inward. He lowered his head just enough to let his bangs shadow his face. When he looked up again, his eyes shimred with unshed tears, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"Please... don’t leave alone," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "It’s terrifying in here. No windows, no light... Just four walls closing in. I don’t know how long I’ve been here already." He curled his fingers into his sleeves, gripping them tightly as if he were trying to hold himself together.

"I-I could really use so company... Just for a little while."

The rogue stood still, his expression unreadable. Florian felt his confidence waver. Was it not working again? Was he going to walk away like Charles and Arthur had, unaffected by his attempts?

The silence stretched, dragging on unbearably long.

Then, the rogue turned and stepped out.

’Ah...he left...’

Florian’s heart sank. He had failed. Again.

His hands clenched into fists as disappointnt settled deep in his gut. He had hoped, just for once, that this trick would work. That soone would take the bait. He almost scoffed at himself. Maybe he wasn’t as good of an actor as he thought.

But then—

The door creaked open once more.

Florian’s breath hitched as the rogue stepped back in, this ti without the tray. His face was slightly flushed, his brows furrowed as if he were irritated—though whether it was with himself or with Florian, he couldn’t tell.

"Fine," the rogue muttered. "I will keep you company, only because I have nothing to do while we wait for the king to respond."

Florian had to suppress a smile, but he let his shoulders relax, feigning relief instead. "Thank you."

The rogue hesitated for a mont, then, in a quieter voice, said, "Levi."

Florian blinked, still pretending to wipe his eyes. "Huh?"

The rogue looked away, clearly uncomfortable. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw tightening. "My na is Levi."

Florian felt a genuine smile tug at the corner of his lips.

’Finally... a na.’