CHAPTER 4 : MY MUM HUSBAND IS DRIVING ME CRAZY

I looked at my phone. It was Jennifer, my friend. But Jennifer wasn't hearing me, in fact, the call kept cutting out. Neither of us could hear each other properly.

The call ended.

I dropped the phone in frustration and headed to the bathroom to take a bath.

The bathroom was absolutely gorgeous. Marble floors, a massive rainfall shower, gold fixtures. It was the kind of bathroom I'd only seen in magazines.

I pulled off my towel and reached for the shower controls. I just needed a little warm water, not too hot, just comfortable.

I turned the knob.

Immediately, scalding hot water burst from the showerhead.

I screamed and tried to turn it off, but I couldn't figure out which way to turn the damn knob. The water was burning my skin, and I was panicking, fumbling with the controls…

I lost my balance.

I was falling backward, about to hit the hard tile floor…

Then someone grabbed me.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, catching me mid-fall. At the same time, a towel was thrown over my naked body.

I managed to wipe the water from my face to see who had come to help. I thought it might be one of the female maids, but those hands… those hands didn't feel like a woman's.

I opened my eyes.

And nearly fainted.

Dominic.

He stood me upright and quickly reached past me to turn off the scalding water. His body was already soaked, water dripping from his hair, his chest, his arms.

And it seemed like he'd been in the middle of getting undressed before I'd started screaming for help, because all he was wearing was a pair of boxers.

Oh god.

His body was incredible. Muscled. Defined. Water ran down the ridges of his abs, down his chest, soaking into the waistband of his boxers.

And those boxers… They were soaked too. Clinging to him. Transparent.

Between his legs, I could clearly see the outline of his hardness.

My body went cold. Then hot. Then cold again.

I didn't even realize I was staring until I forced my eyes away.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I should have been concerned about whether I was hurt. About whether I'd slipped. But instead, all I could think about was how good he looked. How his body was right there, wet and hot and pressed so close to mine.

This wasn't the right time to look. If I kept looking, I'd end up in trouble, just like Mum had warned me before she left.

But I was terrified I wouldn't be able to control myself. That I'd lose control and do all those things I'd been imagining on my bed. His body was radiating heat, looking ready to take anything, anyone, that crossed his path.

But was he really the kind of man who would take a girl my age in any corner of this house?

No. He probably wasn't thinking the foolish things I was thinking. If he was, that hardness I was seeing between his legs would've ended up inside me long before he'd covered me with the towel.

But that didn't mean I could trust him.

Or myself.

My face began to burn red.

"Bella, are you okay?"

Dominic's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts.

He must have noticed I wasn't responding, because his grip on my waist tightened slightly.

When I'd been falling, I'd hit my hand hard against the wall before he'd caught me. Now my wrist was throbbing.

He helped me out of the bathroom and sat me down gently on the edge of the bed.

"I'm calling a doctor," he said, already pulling out his phone.

He crouched in front of me, helping me sit up properly so I could rest my back against the headboard. But as he adjusted my position, my towel started to slip.

I grabbed it quickly with my good hand. "Oh no…"

But the other side, the side my injured hand couldn't reach, was slightly open.

Dominic's hand was still on my thigh, steadying me. And his eyes… his eyes landed on the open side of the towel.

He froze.

He looked like someone lost in their imagination. Like he was seeing something he shouldn't. Something he wanted.

He didn't move.

"Can you just… call the maids to help me get dressed?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh. Yeah. I'll call them right away."

But when he stood up to leave, I saw it.

His hardness was so pronounced now, so obvious through his wet boxers, that there was no way anyone who saw him wouldn't notice.

Holy shit.

I had to distract him. I couldn't let him walk out like that.

"Oh, sir, maybe they can come later," I said quickly. "Let me just cover myself with the blanket for now. How long will it take for the doctor to arrive?"

"Soon," he said, his voice tight.

"Okay. Um… Mum mentioned the rules of this house earlier. I'm sorry I couldn't have ended up this way if I'd known them. At least…"

"Oh, don't worry. It's not too late." He grabbed the blanket and draped it over me, his movements careful. "Once you feel better, I'll tell you the rules one after another."

"Okay. But first, what does dressing have to do with the rules?"

"Here, you must always cover yourself well," he said, his eyes meeting mine. "Exposable clothes are not allowed here."

I frowned. "But what do the rules have to do with dressing?"

"A lot. And you'll know the rest later."

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

The doctor had arrived.

The doctor checked me over and treated my hand. He wrapped my wrist in a bandage and gave me instructions on how to take my medication.

After the doctor left, Dominic went back to his room.

The maids helped me get dressed in a comfortable nightgown, and then they left me alone.

A few hours later, I was lying in bed, bored and restless. I tried calling the maids to bring me some water, but no one came.

So I got up and walked down the hallway myself.

As I passed one of the rooms, I heard a strange noise.

It was quiet. Subtle. But it sounded… off.

I didn't know which room belonged to whom. I only wanted to know what was making that sound.

I followed it down the hall until I reached a door that was slightly ajar.

The sound was coming from inside.

Curiosity got the better of me. I stepped closer and peeked through the crack.

And I froze.

Dominic.

He was sitting on a large leather couch in what looked like a private lounge. The lights were dim, and on the massive TV screen in front of him, a romance movie was playing.

But what made my entire body go still wasn't the movie.

It was the fact that the moment I looked inside, his eyes locked onto mine.

Like he'd been waiting for me to peek.

"What are you doing out there?" His voice was calm. Commanding. "You were asked to rest. Don't be a stubborn girl. Go have some rest."

I swallowed hard. "I was just trying to get some water."

"Get in here," he said. "Where I can watch you closely."

I hesitated.

"Your mum asked me to take good care of you before she left," he continued. "And even though I'm also doing it because it's my duty as your father…"

"I have only one father," I interrupted, my voice sharp. "And he's dead. You can never replace him. I'm only here to please my mum."

His jaw tightened. "Do you really hate me that much?"

"I just want to get back to my room."

"Let me help you to your room."

"I'm good. I can go on my own. I'm not crippled."

He stood up, clearly intending to walk me back anyway.

But as he moved, his hand accidentally hit the remote.

The movie, which had been paused the moment he saw me, suddenly resumed.

The sound filled the room.

On the screen, a man and a woman were tangled together in bed. Their bodies are moving. Their breathing is heavy. The woman's moans echoing through the speakers.

It was explicit. Intimate. Raw.

I should have looked away.

But I couldn't move.

I just stood there, frozen, my eyes glued to the screen as the couple on TV had the best moments of their lives, just like the ones I was preparing to have with Harry.

Their love sounds filled the room.

And I couldn't stop staring.