They called him Weak, He Became Untouchable

The Setup

Andrea moved through the villa like a ghost, methodically stuffing his few possessions into a battered duffel. Each item—a degree, a letter, a photo—was just evidence of everything he’d lost.

All that time, all those dreams. All for Sofia.

His phone vibrated, but he ignored it, picking up the faded picture from his university graduation. Valedictorian, full scholarship, professors begging me to go abroad. Sofia said she needed me here. He gave a half-laugh, tossed the photo in the bag, and zipped it.

The front door creaked. Andrea heard voices, Sofia’s high and careful, another man’s thin and weak.

“Careful on the stairs, Nikolas. I’ll help you.” Sofia’s voice floated up, sweet as honey.

Andrea didn’t even look up as she entered, supporting Nikolas’ fragile frame. Sofia’s lips pressed together, seeing Andrea with his bag.

“Andrea,” she said, instantly chilly. “Nikolas doesn’t like hospitals. I’m letting him recover here.”

He barely spared her a glance. “Alright.”

Sofia hesitated, as if waiting for a fight. “I promised Eleni—Nikolas’ sister, my best friend—I’d take care of him while she’s overseas. You’re not going to act jealous for no reason, are you?”

“I understand,” Andrea said, folding another shirt.

Sofia’s jaw tightened. He always argued. Why was he so calm? Her gaze landed on the duffel. “Why are you packing?”

Andrea zipped a side pocket. “Just throwing out some old trash. Things I don’t need anymore.”

She eyed him, suspicious, but Nikolas leaned on her, voice weak. “Sofia, I haven’t eaten all day. The hospital food was awful…”

Sofia snapped to attention. “Andrea, make something for Nikolas. He needs real food if he’s going to get better.”

Nikolas kept packing. “I have other things to do.”

“Other things?” Sofia’s tone iced over. “What’s more important than Nikolas' health? Still mad I brought him here?”

Nikolas shrank back, voice trembling. “Sofia, please don’t argue because of me. I don’t want to cause problems in your marriage. I’ll go back to the hospital…”

Sofia glared at Andrea. “I don’t care what you think you have to do. Cook for Nikolas right now. Don’t even think about leaving until you do.”

She still thinks she controls me. Even now.

Andrea set the bag down. “Fine. I’ll cook.”

Sofia’s lips relaxed into something smug. “Good. Nikolas, sit. I’ll change and come back.”

Her heels clicked away upstairs. The second she vanished, Nikolas straightened, mask gone. “Still playing the loyal husband? You really have no spine.”

Andrea started toward the kitchen. “What do you want to eat?”

Nikolas sneered. “Drop the act. Sofia doesn’t love you. Hasn’t for a long time. Why stick around?”

Andrea pulled vegetables from the fridge. “Is that so?”

Nikolas shook his head, bitter. “You’re a joke, Andrea. Living off her money, donating blood every month like a lab rat. Don’t you have any self-respect?”

Andrea rinsed carrots. “Are you done?”

Nikolas scowled at the lack of reaction. He thrived on drama. Why wasn’t Andrea fighting back? Sofia’s footsteps sounded above. Nikokas’ eyes narrowed with sudden inspiration.

“You want proof?” Nikolas hissed, glancing at the ceiling. “Watch this.”

Andrea began chopping, movements steady.

Nikolas lunged, grabbing Andrea’s hand—the one holding the knife—and with a flick, drew the blade hard across his own palm.

“Ahhhh! I was wrong, please don’t hurt me!” Nikolas screamed, collapsing to the floor. “Please, I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me anymore!”

Blood splattered across the tile. His screams rattled the whole house, echoing up the stairs.

Sofia thundered back down, face white. “Nickolas! Oh my god—what happened?!”

Nikolas clung to her, voice tiny and terrified. “He… he cut me! I just asked for food—he snapped. Please, don’t let him hurt me!”

Sofia turned a look of pure venom on Andrea. “What did you do to him?!”