The sun hung low over Thundarr City’s skyline as Ronda Riy pedaled through the lush parks, enjoying the cool breeze brushing against her skin. She wore her usual white tank top, blue mini skirt, and long socks, her big round glasses resting on her nose. The park paths were nearly empty, with only the rustling trees and distant chatter of late-evening joggers filling the air.
She loved these rides—time away from the crowded streets, a moment to think. But tonight, she wasn’t alone.
A shadow moved between the trees.
Before she could react, a strong arm yanked her off her bicycle, sending her crashing onto the grass. She gasped as a masked man loomed over her, pinning her down. Panic surged through her chest. She kicked, screamed, and struggled, but his grip was like iron.
“Shut up,” the man hissed, his weight pressing against her.
Ronda clenched her teeth, fear gripping her. Was this it?
Then, a sharp whoosh sliced through the air.
In an instant, the man was yanked backward with a pained grunt. A dark figure descended upon him like a storm. Cloaked in black, wielding a gleaming samurai sword, Kestrel moved with deadly precision. The masked man barely had time to react before Kestrel struck his ribs with a brutal kick, sending him sprawling to the ground.
“Touch her again,” Kestrel said, his voice cold, “and I’ll carve your bones into my next meal.”
The attacker whimpered before scrambling to his feet and vanishing into the trees.
Kestrel turned to Ronda, who was trembling, her vision blurring. “You’re safe now,” he said, his voice softer. But the shock was too much. Everything faded as she collapsed into unconsciousness.
When Ronda woke, she wasn’t in the park anymore. She was in a lavish bedroom with silk sheets beneath her and golden curtains framing the enormous windows. A warm glow from a bedside lamp softened the room’s elegant decor.
“Ah, you’re awake, miss,” an older voice said.
She turned her head to see an elderly butler standing by her side, placing a damp cloth on the nightstand.
“Where—?” Her voice was hoarse.
“You are in Master Cal’s mansion,” the butler said with a kind smile. “I am Albort. You were unconscious after the attack. Master Cal—ah, I mean, Kestrel—brought you here. You are safe now.”
Ronda sat up slowly, her heart still racing, but the fear was gone. Instead, curiosity bloomed in her chest. Kestrel? The masked vigilante? She had heard of him, of course. Everyone in Thundarr City had. But—Cal?
Just then, the door opened.
In walked Cal Faros, dressed casually in a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly tousled. He smirked as he saw her awake.
“You scared me there, glasses girl,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.
Ronda blinked. “Cal? You were Kestrel?”
“Surprised?” He grinned. “Guess my secret’s out now.”
She studied him, seeing him in a new light. Cal Faros—the rich playboy everyone knew—was actually the masked swordsman who had just saved her life. And, well… now that she thought about it, he was pretty damn handsome.
“Well,” she said, adjusting her glasses with a teasing smile. “I guess I owe my hero a proper thank-you.”
Cal raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that?”
She leaned closer, resting her chin on her hand. “I’m sure I can think of something.”
Albort cleared his throat loudly.
Cal smirked. “Careful, Ronda. I might take you up on that.”
She giggled, feeling a new thrill in her chest. Maybe this night hadn’t turned out so bad after all.
Albort’s Call
Albort, ever the dutiful butler, stepped away as Ronda and Cal exchanged flirtatious glances. He adjusted his tie, shaking his head at the young master’s antics before pulling out his phone.
Moments later, he was dialing a familiar number.
Faro had been lounging on Ronda’s couch, legs stretched out, flipping through a magazine when his phone buzzed. Seeing Albort’s name on the screen, he furrowed his brows and answered.
“Faro Faros,” came the gruff voice on the other end.
“Master Faro,” Albort said in his usual composed tone. “I assume you would like to know that Miss Ronda Riy was attacked earlier tonight while riding her bicycle in the park. She is unharmed, thanks to Master Cal.”
Faro’s voice sharpened. “Attacked? Is she okay?”
“She is recovering well. However, given the circumstances, I believe it best if you come to pick her up. She is currently upstairs in the guest bedroom with Master Cal.”
There was a pause. Then, “I’ll be there in ten.”
Albort nodded to himself. He had known Faro long enough to predict that tone—it was the voice of a man who wasn’t pleased with what he was hearing.
Faro didn’t waste another second. Grabbing his jacket, he hopped onto his bike and rode straight to Cal’s mansion.
Faro arrived swiftly, his usual rugged demeanor set in stone as he stepped into the grand Faros mansion. Albort greeted him at the entrance, ever composed.
“They are upstairs, Master Faro. First door to the right.”
Faro nodded, taking the stairs two at a time. As he approached the door, he heard voices inside, a playful lilt in Ronda’s and the casual amusement in Cal’s. Instead of knocking, he pushed the door open quietly, slipping inside unnoticed.
And then he stopped.
Cal stood near the bed, holding a panty by the tip of his finger, dangling it toward Ronda. She sat on the bed, looking slightly embarrassed but also amused.
“So, let me get this straight,” Faro said, breaking the moment.
Both Ronda and Cal turned toward the door, startled.
“You were attacked,” Faro continued, stepping in fully. “And the guy took your panty with him?” His gaze shifted to Cal’s hand. “And yet, here you are, holding one.”
Cal, to his credit, didn’t miss a beat. He smirked. “Relax, cousin. This one isn’t hers. It’s an unused leftover from one of my girlfriends. Thought Ronda might need it, considering… the circumstances.”
Faro narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. Ronda, adjusting her glasses, quickly added, “It’s true! That bastard ripped my panty off and ran with it. Cal was just—well, offering.”
Faro exhaled through his nose. “Right. Because every woman loves borrowing another woman’s underwear.”
Cal chuckled, tossing the panty onto the bed. “Better than nothing.”
Ronda gave a small laugh, though she looked at Faro with a hint of guilt. “I was just… getting comfortable before you came.”
Faro sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Come on, glasses girl. Let’s get you home before I have to see anything weirder than this.”
Cal grinned, patting his cousin’s shoulder as Faro turned to leave with Ronda. “Good seeing you, buddy. Next time, knock.”
Faro shot him a glare before guiding Ronda out, muttering something about “rich boy nonsense” under his breath.
As Faro led her out of the room, Ronda stole a quick glance back at Cal, who simply smirked, arms crossed in amusement. She adjusted her glasses, hiding the small, knowing smile creeping onto her lips. That was close. Faro had bought the excuse—but in reality, the attacker never had enough time to take her panty.
The truth was… she had taken it off herself, right here in this room, opening it in front of Cal as a little reward for saving her life. And Cal, ever the playful rogue, had taken full advantage of the moment—smelling it, even giving it a teasing taste before finally handing it back to her.
She bit her lip, suppressing a chuckle as Faro grumbled about getting her home. If only he knew how much fun she’d actually had tonight.
Now, with Ronda seated behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, they sped through the streets of Thundarr City. The cool night breeze brushed against them as the hum of the bike’s engine filled the silence between them.
Faro kept his focus on the road, but his thoughts were still stuck on what he had walked in on. Cal, holding a panty in his hand, casually offering it to Ronda. That whole explanation about it being from one of Cal’s girlfriends had felt… off. But he let it slide—he had bigger things to worry about, like making sure Ronda was okay.
Behind him, Ronda rested her cheek against his back, smiling to herself. Faro had no idea what had really happened in that room, and that was her little secret. Tonight had been terrifying, yes—but it had also awakened something inside her.
She tightened her grip around Faro slightly, inhaling the scent of his jacket. He was her protector, the man she always relied on. But tonight, she had felt something new—something thrilling. And as they rode through the city streets, she found herself wondering if she might want to feel it again.
As Ronda rode behind Faro, she also felt a quiet thrill run through her. A sense of satisfaction. Cal had liked her scent, her taste—his reaction had been more than just teasing. It was approval, desire. And that excited her in a way she hadn’t expected.
But there was something else too—a deeper, more rebellious pleasure. She thought about Faro, about the times she had caught him stealing glances at Rita, about how he must have breathed in her essence whenever she was near. It had always gnawed at her, made her feel like she was competing with a ghost of something unspoken.
Tonight, in a way, she had evened things. While Faro was busy being the noble protector, she had already indulged in something far more daring—with his own cousin, no less. And that secret, tucked away behind her innocent glasses and playful smiles, made her feel powerful.
As they pulled up to Ronda’s apartment, she hopped off the bike, adjusting her skirt and stretching her legs. Faro parked and set the kickstand before turning to face her.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, scanning her face for any lingering distress.
Ronda nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. She glanced down at her hands, still recalling the moment Cal had carried her unconscious body to his mansion. Kestrel had saved her. Kestrel… was Cal.
The realization hit her like a lightning bolt. The masked vigilante, the shadowy protector of Thundarr City—was none other than Faro’s own cousin. She looked up at Faro, lips parted in awe. “Faro… I just realized something.”
“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She said, “Kestrel saved me.”
Faro shot her a look. “You mean Cal saved you.”
She shrugged playfully. “Same thing.”
As they arrived in front of Ronda’s apartment door she fished her keys from her miniskirt pocket, glancing at Faro. “What?”
Faro exhaled, shaking his head with amusement. “Nothing. Just thinking about how lucky you are.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Lucky?”
“Yeah.” He took the key from her and unlooked the door. “Not only did Kestrel—oh wait, I mean Cal—save you, but you even got a free panty out of it.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, his smirk never fading.
Ronda stiffened for a second, then quickly recovered, rolling her eyes. “You’re still on that?”
Faro shrugged. “Hey, I’m just saying, it’s real convenient how Cal just happened to have a panty in your exact size lying around.”
Ronda forced a laugh, as she walked through the open door. “Guess I’m just lucky like that.”
Faro let out a small chuckle. “Yeah… real lucky.” He didn’t press further, but the way he looked at her made it clear—he wasn’t fooled. He knew the truth.
As she stepped inside, she hesitated for just a moment before heading towards the bedroom. Her heart was still racing, not from fear, but from the thrill of knowing she had almost been caught. That was close.
And as Faro sat himself on the living room sofa, his smirk widened. He hadn’t called her out on it, but he knew. And the fact that she thought she had gotten away with it?
After a few minutes he followed her into the bedroom and looked at Ronda sitting on the bed.
“What?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
Faro exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Nothing… Just thinking about how close you and Cal have gotten.”
Ronda stiffened for half a second before scoffing. “Oh, come on. He saved me, Faro.”
“Yeah, he did,” Faro said, nodding slowly. “And then he just so happened to have a panty ready for you.” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.
Ronda’s fingers tightened. “I told you, the attacker took mine—”
Faro cut her off. “Uh-huh. And I guess Cal just has a collection of untouched panties that are exactly your size in case of emergencies?”
Ronda forced a chuckle. “He told you his ex left some behind.”
Faro tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe.” There was a pause before he added, “Or maybe I walked in on something else.”
Ronda’s heartbeat picked up. “What are you trying to say?”
Faro studied her, his smirk now replaced by something else—something sharper. “I don’t know. But it’s funny… You wake up in his mansion, wearing no panty and when I get there, he’s holding a panty like it’s some kind of… prize.”
Ronda felt heat rise to her face, but she refused to look away. “You’re imagining things.”
Faro didn’t argue. Instead, he simply smiled—a knowing, unreadable smile. “Yeah. Maybe I am.” He stepped back. “Get some rest, Ronda.”
As he turned and walked away, Ronda stood frozen at her bed, gripping the bed sheets. Did he suspect? No—he knew something was off. He just wasn’t saying it outright.
And that made her more nervous than if he had.
