chapter 8

Chapter8

Vincent's POV

The knock on my study door was brief but confident.

“Come in,” I said, straightening my posture.

Nickolas Armstrong strolled in like he owned the place. Same old Nick—laid back, confident, annoyingly charming. He had that easy-going smile that made women feel safe.

“Morning,” he said, taking the seat opposite me without waiting for an invitation. “You look like hell, Vincent.”

I scoffed. “Good to see you too.”

Nick’s smile faded slightly. “You haven’t called Lilian since you got here.”

Of course, he would bring her up.

“I was busy settling in,” I replied dryly.

He raised a brow. “Too busy to call your wife?”

I picked up my phone and tapped her contact. “I’m calling now. Satisfied?”

The phone rang a few times before she picked up. Her voice came through with that usual bored undertone.

“Vincent?”

“Lilian. Just checking in. You didn’t call yesterday.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” she said with a dry laugh. “I figured you’d be too busy enjoying your precious mansion.”

“I’m here for work,” I replied, jaw tightening.

“Right. You never used to care much for that place, but now you’re running off there like it’s your second home.”

“It’s still my property, Lilian.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you from it,” she said coldly. “I’ve got an event to attend tonight. You know, since you’re not here to play the doting husband.”

I clenched my fist. “You’re always going to parties, clubs… sometimes I wonder if you even remember you’re married.”

“And sometimes I wonder if you care.”

Before I could respond, she hung up.

Nick gave me a pointed look. “You two really need to figure out what you’re doing.”

I leaned back and exhaled deeply. “We’re doing what we’ve always done. Pretending everything’s fine.”

Silence settled between us.

“So,” Nick began, voice casual, “that maid Lisa right?

My jaw tightened. “What are you talking about?”

“Lisa. The maid with the innocent eyes and distracting curves.”

“I don’t look at maids.”

He smirked. “Right. You just ask about them after dinner and stare at them like they’ve personally offended your self-control.”

“Watch it, Nick,” I warned.

“I’m just saying… you’ve never asked about any staff before. She’s clearly different. And gorgeous. If you’re not interested, I might just—”

“Don’t,” I cut in, voice sharp.

Nick laughed softly, but he saw the warning in my eyes and knew better than to push. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

I leaned forward, fingers steepled. “There’s something about her. I don’t trust it.”

“She’s a maid, Vincent. Not a spy.”

“That’s what worries me.”

He raised both brows but said nothing more.

After he left, I paced my study, my thoughts once again consumed by Lisa.

Everything about her was haunting me—her voice, the way she’d looked up at me with defiance, the way her lips had parted just slightly when I leaned in a little too close.

She wasn’t supposed to affect me this way.

And yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

I walked to the window, needing air, needing silence. Maybe I should go to my room...

As I stepped out into the hallway, I saw her. Lisa. She wasn’t supposed to be here, at least not in this wing. Her head was down, clearly trying to avoid me. That only made me more curious.

“Lisa.”

She froze mid-step and looked up slowly, clearly startled.

“Sir.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I—Madam Mary asked me to help check the hallway carpets. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Seems like you’re always in the wrong place at the right time,” I murmured, stepping closer.

She shifted uneasily. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You always look so startled around me. Am I that terrifying?”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Her breath hitched as I moved slightly closer, just enough to notice the way her chest rose and fell under the thin fabric of her uniform.

“You’re… not terrifying,” she said, barely audible.

I tilted my head. “Then why do you run every time you see me?”

“I don’t—”

“You do,” I cut in, voice lower now, intimate. “You avoid looking me in the eyes. Is it guilt… or something else?”

Her throat moved as she swallowed hard. “I should go.”

I stepped aside, giving her space to walk past me, but not without gripping her hand with one last glance that lingered too long to be appropriate.

“Next time,” I said, voice even, “don’t run. Walk with your head held high. And don’t avoid me, Lisa. You work in my house. I expect to see you.”

She nodded without looking at me and hurried off, her pace betraying the tension she carried. I watched her go, and something inside me tightened—a strange, hot pull I didn’t like admitting even to myself.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t going away.

And that… was dangerous..

The moment Lisa slipped away from me in the hallway, something in me snapped. I had no idea what it was, but it wasn’t good. My hands were still tingling from when I’d gripped her wrist—too tightly, maybe. I wasn’t thinking straight. I wasn’t thinking at all.

I stood there for a few more seconds, staring at the empty corridor like a man who’d just watched something precious slip through his fingers. I hated how she looked at me. Like I confused her. Like I scared her.

Maybe I did..