Olivia slid back into her seat, her brow furrowing as she caught the curious stares from nearby tables. "What happened? Why's everyone looking at us like that?" she asked, her voice tinged with unease.
Tony, still recovering from Kiara's bombshell question, forced a chuckle. "Nothing, they're probably just charmed by Kiara's cuteness."
Olivia raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "She's cute, but not that cute to pull a crowd," she teased, settling in. Kiara stuck out her tongue, and the tension eased.
They flagged down the waiter and ordered: roasted chicken for Kiara, a burger for Tony, and pasta for Olivia. Dinner flowed smoothly, their chatter bouncing between trending movies and funny café stories. Tony soaked it in, the simple joy of connection hitting him harder than he expected. This is what I missed, he thought, his past life's loneliness a shadow in the back of his mind.
When the bill arrived—$20.40—Olivia reached for her wallet, but Tony beat her to it. "No way a gentleman lets a beautiful lady pay," he said, handing the cash to the waiter with a grin. "The gods would smite me."
Olivia blushed, her eyes flickering with surprise, while Tony cringed internally. Man, that was cheesy. But her shy smile made it worth it, a spark of something new between them.
They left the restaurant and piled into the Mustang, heading back to Olivia's house. The forty-minute drive through traffic was quiet, Kiara dozing in the back, Olivia staring out the window. Tony's mind drifted to the day—the laughter, the rides, the way Olivia's guard was slowly coming down.
As they pulled up, Olivia and Kiara stepped out. "Bye, Tony," Olivia said, her voice soft but warm.
Tony waved, hitting the accelerator. But as he turned the corner, something glinted under the passenger seat. He glanced down—it was Olivia's watch, its broken strap catching the streetlight. His heart sank. Her mom's watch. She'll be crying. He spun the Mustang around at the next junction and sped back.
Parking on the curb, he jogged to the door and rang the bell. No answer. He waited, then rang again. Still nothing. Unease prickled his skin. He rang twice more, then tried the handle—unlocked. The door creaked open, and a cry hit him like a punch.
"Someone, please help my sister!" Kiara's voice, raw with panic, echoed from inside. "Help! Please!" Her sobs followed, desperate and broken.
Tony's blood ran cold. He rushed inside, following the cries to a room under the stairs. The sight stopped his heart: Kiara crouched on the floor, tears streaming down her face, while a man—drunk, disheveled, reeking of booze—pinned Olivia against a bed. She was fighting back, her hands shoving at his chest, but he was stronger. Tony's vision narrowed, rage and fear surging through him. Not them. Not after today.
Just as the man grabbed Olivia's t-shirt, tearing it, Tony launched forward. He slammed into the man, knocking him off balance, and drove a knee into his head. The guy—nearing 50 and sloppy from liquor—crumpled, out cold. Olivia stumbled back, her ripped shirt exposing her pink bra. She froze, eyes wide with shock, as Kiara threw herself into her arms, sobbing hysterically.
Olivia clutched her sister, trying to soothe her, but her own breaths were shaky. Tears welled up, spilling over as the weight of the moment crashed down. Tony's heart ached at the sight—two girls who'd been laughing hours ago, now broken by fear. He didn't hesitate, peeling off his hoodie and draping it over Olivia's shoulders to cover her. "It's okay," he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. "You're safe now. Both of you."
He knelt beside them, his hand gently on Kiara's shoulder, as they clung to each other, crying. For fifteen minutes, he murmured reassurances, his own past losses—his parents, Emilia's death—lending weight to his words. I couldn't save grandma back then. But I'm here now. Slowly, their sobs quieted, though the fear lingered in their eyes.
Tony checked the man—still unconscious—then called the police. The next hour was a blur of flashing lights, officers taking statements, and the man—Olivia and Kiara's uncle—being hauled away in cuffs. Tony stood by the sisters, his jaw tight, thinking of Emilia saving them from this monster in his past life. This time, it's me.
Olivia had changed into a new shirt, and Tony slipped his hoodie back on. He looked at them, their faces pale and drawn. "Hey, why don't you and Kiara crash at my place tonight? You can come back tomorrow when things settle."
Olivia shook her head, her voice trembling. "No, we're okay. We'll manage."
"Grandma would have my head if I left you here after this," Tony said, his tone gentle but firm. He glanced at Kiara, who was still clutching Olivia's hand, her eyes wide with fear.
Olivia followed his gaze, and her resolve cracked. "Okay," she said quietly. "Let me grab some clothes."
"I'll wait here," Tony said, leaning against the wall. Grandma saved them in my last life, he thought. Who'd have thought I'd be the one this time?
Two minutes later, they emerged with a small bag. The three climbed into the Mustang, the silence heavy. Tony noticed the fuel gauge blinking—reserve. "Gotta hit a gas station," he said, pulling into one nearby. While filling up, he grabbed a handful of candies from the shop, handing them to the girls. "Something sweet to take the edge off."
Kiara managed a small smile, nibbling on a candy, while Olivia just nodded, her eyes distant. The drive to Tony's house was quiet, the city's hum a faint backdrop to their thoughts.
When they walked into the living room, Emilia was on the couch, the TV news droning. Tony explained what happened, his voice low, and Emilia's face hardened with anger, then softened with concern. "You poor girls," she said, standing to hug them.
Tony's eyes flicked to the TV—the lottery draw was on. He bolted upstairs, grabbed his ticket, and rushed back. The numbers flashed on the screen: 08-46-07-47-39-01. His heart stopped. They matched.
"Yesss!" he shouted, punching the air. "I won it, Grandma! I won the lottery!"
Emilia's jaw dropped, then she laughed, pulling him into a hug. "You're kidding! Tony, you're blessed, kiddo!"
They danced around the living room, the $18 million win a burst of light after the darkness. But as their cheers faded, Emilia glanced at Olivia and Kiara, who stood quietly by the couch, still shaken. "You two are staying here until that man's trial is done," she said firmly. "We'll get your things tomorrow. This is your home for now."
Olivia nodded, her eyes brimming with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, holding Kiara close. Tony watched them, his heart full but heavy.