Chapter 4

“Undress me,” Fabien ordered the moment we entered his room.

I arched a brow at him, unfazed, as if he had just asked me to pass him a glass of water. “Aren’t you even going to offer me coffee first?” I shot back, already reaching for the hem of his shirt like I was tending to my own father.

There was no malice in my actions.

And that was the problem.

I was supposed to be seducing him, not treating him like a patient.

“Oh, your pants too,” I added casually. “Stand up—I’ll take care of it.”

He obeyed without a word.

As I stripped him, my eyes widened slightly at the sight of him. He wasn’t completely… unresponsive. Not entirely. If I had to describe it, it was like someone recovering from a stroke—half alive, half not. There was size, presence—but still, I didn’t dwell on it.

It didn’t matter.

“A towel? A robe? Bath?” I asked, as if there wasn’t a completely naked man standing in front of me.

I turned toward the bathroom, taking in the sheer size of it. It was massive—easily the size of a hundred-square-meter home. Whoever designed this place had no concept of moderation.

Inside a glass cabinet, I found what I needed. Both the towel and robe were black, neatly folded, untouched.

I returned to him, where he now sat waiting in his wheelchair.

“Will your wound be okay if it gets wet?” I asked, draping the towel over him to cover his nakedness.

“Yes.”

“Alright. Let’s go.”

I pushed the wheelchair into the bathroom.

The tub was already filled—he must have had someone prepare it earlier. The water was still warm, faint steam rising from its surface.

“Why do you act like you’re used to seeing a naked man?” he suddenly asked. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you? You should be afraid of me. Keep your distance. Feel ashamed.”

I rolled my eyes slightly. “Is it my fault life thickened my face?” I replied bluntly. “That whole ‘you should be shy because you’re a virgin’ thing—it’s nonsense. I’m here because this is my job. Or something worse than that, actually. If you hadn’t been shot, that so-called purity you’re talking about would already be shattered.”

I dipped the sponge into the water.

“And besides,” I added, “this isn’t new to me. I took care of my father for a long time in the hospital. Seeing a naked man doesn’t scare me. I’d be more afraid if you were a cockroach.”

Fabien sank into the tub, submerging his entire body—head included. When he resurfaced, his long hair clung damply to his face, making him look even more dangerously handsome.

I poured some men’s body wash onto the sponge.

“Should I scrub you too?” I asked.

He shrugged, resting his arms along the edge of the tub in silent permission.

I began gently.

“Where did you learn how to drive?” he asked after a moment.

“With my older brother,” I replied. “He’s a policeman.”

He glanced at me. “A policeman? Then how did you end up doing this kind of work?”

My hands paused for just a fraction of a second.

I looked at him.

I was supposed to lie. I had practiced it over and over—crafted stories meant to convince him I was just another spoiled rich girl whose life had taken a dramatic turn.

But instead, I kept scrubbing.

“My brother left after our father was shot,” I said quietly. “I don’t know if he abandoned us… or if he had some kind of mission. Or any reason at all.”

The sponge moved across his skin again.

“We were stuck in the hospital. Rotting there, honestly, because we couldn’t afford to pay. Even with all the government aid, the bills kept piling up. My brother was everything to my father. Everything we had—every last bit of it—was spent just to get him through school and into the police force.”

I swallowed slightly.

“And then the days kept passing… and the bills kept growing.”

Fabien remained silent.

“So I went to Vicky,” I continued. “She’s a recruiter in our area—for strippers. She told me that inexperienced girls sell for a higher price. The ones she recruited before… they never came back. Even their families disappeared from the neighborhood. Maybe their lives just got better.”

I let out a faint breath.

“I’m not even really a stripper. I just accepted this job. After this, I’ll go back to my father. Our problems will be over. We’ll survive somehow. Maybe… my brother will come home too.”

“Didn’t he say goodbye?” Fabien asked.

“No.” I shook my head, “Men came to our house. Armed. They searched everything. One of them even tried to take me.”

My grip tightened slightly on the sponge.

“That’s when my father fought back. He used a machete. The neighbors heard the commotion—thank God. My father managed to strike the man who grabbed me… but they shot him.”

The memory lingered like a wound that never closed.

“They ran away after that. But they took something. A USB, I think. It belonged to my brother. I saw him hide it once—in a corner of his room. Somewhere no one would think to look.”

A faint, almost invisible smile flickered in Fabien’s eyes.

“Do you think that incident was related to your brother’s job?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I said with a small shrug. “They went straight to his room. Took something. Then my brother disappeared.”

I exhaled.

“He left in a hurry. I tried to stop him, but he told me to take care of our father. He didn’t even leave money. I just hope he’s alive… that nothing happened to him.”

I blinked slowly.

“I even went to his colleagues, trying to find out where he was. But they said it was confidential. That even we—his family—weren’t allowed to know.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft movement of water.

“He was a good brother,” I continued quietly. “He was planning to send me back to school once he finished paying off debts. He’d only been a policeman for two years… and my father sacrificed everything for that. Sold everything we had just to put him through criminology.”

“And you?” Fabien asked.

“I stepped aside,” I answered simply. “He’s the eldest. It made sense for him to graduate first. He’s eight years older than me, after all.”

My hand moved absently, still scrubbing.

“I just hope… when I go home, he’ll be there too.”

I didn’t even realize I had been scrubbing the same spot—his chest—for far too long.

“You’ve been scrubbing my chest for a while now,” he muttered. “You might peel my skin off.”

My eyes widened. “Oh! You're not numb!” I said, startled. “Where else should I scrub then?”

Before I could react further, his hand suddenly reached up, gripping the back of my neck and pulling me closer.

"Then he kissed me."

My breath caught.

His other hand found mine—guiding it downward beneath the water. I let go of the sponge, startled, when my hand brushed against him.

Earlier, he had been only half-responsive. Now, there was no doubt. He was fully aroused.

“Hold it,” he murmured softly against my lips before kissing me again.

I swallowed.

My heart pounded, but I followed his command.

His hand remained over mine, guiding the movement.

“Make me come, Cataleya,” he whispered against my neck, his lips brushing my skin.

My breathing grew uneven.

His hand continued to guide mine, slow, deliberate.

I felt heat crawl up my spine, unfamiliar and unsettling.

“Next time,” he added quietly, his voice low and controlled, “your mouth will do the pleasure.”

Before I could react, he pressed his thumb against my lips—then slowly pushed it inside.

And just like that, I froze. Not out of innocence but because for the first time since I stepped into this world I realized I might not be as unaffected as I thought.