Lily gracefully bowed and departed.
*And so, the moment has arrived.*
I gently pushed open the door and entered Vincent's expansive master suite. Instantly, my attention was drawn to the breathtaking view beyond, which, despite the darkness, offered a serene sight enhanced by the moonlight illuminating the trees. The room seamlessly connects to a private balcony, ideal for enjoying the crisp air and savoring the scenery. Sliding glass doors lead to this outdoor sanctuary, furnished with plush seating and refined railings.
The bedroom radiates opulence and elegance. A sumptuous king-sized bed rests on a richly carpeted floor, flanked by stylish nightstands and a grand dresser. Tasteful artwork adorns the walls, infusing the space with an air of sophistication.
In one corner, a dedicated workspace invites creativity. A sleek wooden desk takes center stage, paired with a cozy, high-backed chair. Towering bookshelves extend from floor to ceiling, brimming with leather-bound books and sparkling glass accents.A sleek, contemporary lamp casts concentrated light, ideal for late-night reading or work.
The deep, masculine color scheme and thoughtfully selected art pieces all come together to create an atmosphere of sophisticated, masculine elegance.
*Ughhh, he's really quite imposing.*
He lounged on the king-sized bed, engrossed in a file while completely overlooking my presence.
I remained frozen by the door, wary of every inch of the space.
"Ummm, you called for me?" I asked as he continued to stay silent.
"Yes, but what delayed you?" he inquired.
"I sort of got disoriented until I found Lily," I fibbed. *Well, not entirely true.*
"Cynthia mentioned you assaulted her," he stated with authority.
"Wh-what? I never attacked her! It was an accident, and she understood. Sure, I struck her, but it was instinctive. I'd rather have Lily assist me than Cynthia," I clarified.
He let out a low, dark chuckle.
"Okay then. Lily mentioned you skipped your meal," he remarked while setting aside the file he had been reviewing.
"I actually did eat," I replied.
He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "What did you have?"
"I had an apple," I responded with assurance.
"You're fine with that?" he inquired, his tone skeptical.
"Yes," I affirmed with a nod.
"Alright, pass me that bottle," he gestured towards the one on the bedside.
It was clear he could fetch it himself, but he preferred to delegate the task to me, reminiscent of Mister Charles.
I walked over to the nightstand, grabbed the bottle of alcohol along with the glass resting nearby.
Just as I was about to hand it to him, I noticed numerous marks on his hands.
It looked as if he'd been in a tussle with a tig…
Wait, those aren't scratches from a wild animal, but my own nail marks.
My thoughts raced back to the day he abducted me.
*If anyone were to see this, they'd likely think I'm a monster. It must be incredibly painful and itchy, especially since they haven't healed, and I can relate to the feeling of having unhealed scratches scattered across my skin.*
The tattoos do make them harder to see, but they're still there.
I placed the alcohol bottle back on the stand. Vincent looked at me with confusion, but I shrugged it off.
Glancing around, I spotted a medical kit on the large study table. I quickly grabbed it and rummaged through until I found the ointment I needed.
"Could you move over a bit? I'd like to take care of those scratches on your hand," I said, indicating them.
He flashed a wide grin and cleared some space for me.
I settled on the bed and applied the ointment to the scratches, working as quickly as possible given the circumstances.
After finishing, I stood up to put away the items I had used, only to notice him starting to remove his shirt.
"What are you doing…" I trailed off as I saw the scratches on his chest.
*At that moment, I realized just how much I had wounded him.*
I took out the items and quickly focused on the scratches.
He remained silent, observing me as if I were a piece of art.
The stillness between us was so charged that I almost regretted my lack of restraint.
His chest lacked the tattoos that adorned his hands. I was so engrossed in treating the scrapes that I missed the chance to examine his tattoos up close, which I had longed to do.
Once I finished, I tried to rise, but something strong kept me anchored.
It dawned on me that I was positioned between his legs. I had become so absorbed in my task that I hadn't noticed I had crossed the line.
He smiled and pulled me snugly against his chest.
"Let go of me," I protested as I tried to break free, which only escalated the situation. He flipped me over, his formidable figure looming over me.
"Did you receive the gift I left for you, little de?" His gaze locked onto mine.
"N-no." I stammered as the atmosphere thickened around us.
*There was no point in pretending; my eyes betrayed the reality.*
His warmth enveloped me, and the stark contrast in our sizes made the moment feel forbidden.
He leaned in, his breath brushing against my ear, "Always carry it with you."
I felt his lips glide to my neck.
My body responded instantly to his every touch.
I tried to resist, but it was futile.
*Have I truly become this vulnerable?!
Now I understand what they mean when they say the spirit is willing, but the flesh falters.*
His lips traveled to my cheeks, and his hands slipped beneath my hoodie, sending shivers across my skin.
*No! I can't let myself be so easily swayed.*
With a sudden push, I broke away and rushed to the door.
Once outside, I exhaled, realizing that my actions had been alarmingly simple; he was far more powerful than just a shove could convey.
It felt as if he was offering me a choice.
***
I returned to my room, but sleep eluded me, my mind consumed by how weak I truly felt.
I had a serious hankering for chips, so I made my way to the kitchen.
There I found Lily by the counter, looking overwhelmed with tasks scattered around her.
"Hey, do you need a hand?" I offered, noticing how caught up she seemed.
She looked startled, as if she hadn't realized I was there.
"No, it's fine. I can manage on my own. You should get some rest," she replied, her stressed demeanor fueling my eagerness to lend a hand.
"I couldn't get to sleep, so I came down for a snack, and seeing you here alone made me want to pitch in," I explained.
"Master wouldn't—"
"Disagree," I interjected, completing her thought.
"Okay then, where should I begin?" I inquired.
"You could start by putting those into containers and stocking them in the fridge," she suggested, a bit unsure.
"Sure thing!" I replied enthusiastically, heading towards the counter to help.
Before long, we had nearly everything organized, with just a few items left to sort.
"May I ask where all of this is heading?" I indicated the numerous containers we had packed.
"Oh, it's for the cuisine; Adriel placed the order," she clarified.
Curiosity about the cuisine didn't interest me, so I didn't pursue the topic further. Something else had already caught my attention.
"How did you end up working here?" I inquired.
"Well, my mom used to work here, and when she passed away when I was twelve, I pleaded to take her place, and master agreed," she shared simply.
"I'm really sorry to hear about your mom," I responded.
"It's alright. What about you? How did you find yourself here?" She seemed genuinely interested in my story.
"To be honest, I'm not quite sure. One moment, I'm at a party with friends, and the next, I'm signing a contract and here I am," I replied.
We had finally completed packaging the orders.
"That should do it," I announced, counting the containers.
As I turned around, someone suddenly embraced me tightly, causing me to let out a startled shriek. She immediately released me and apologized.
"Thank you so much for your support," she remarked.
"Not a problem! Friends?" I offered my hand.
"Absolutely," she replied, giving it a shake.
"Okay, I'm heading upstairs," I said as I started to walk away, and she nodded in agreement.
At least I can say I've accomplished one thing: I've made a friend.