Chapter 6: He Passed Away

Sarah’s POV.

Standing in front of the person I love, I’m in my spicy outfit. He removes his shirt, revealing a powerful torso with eight-pack abs. 

His arms are covered in tattoos, which I cannot clearly see in the dim lighting. 

Additionally, he has a tattoo of a wolf on his chest. 

He starts to push me down onto the bed while running his hand inside my underwear and massaging my breasts with the other. 

His handsome appearance has made my nipples start to harden. As he probes my clit, I squeals with pleasure. 

He tears my dress, leaving me completely exposed.

"Ma’am,”

As his dick brushes against my cunt, someone opens the door and bursts into the room. I ignore her because my pussy gets wet and I want him to fuck me.

“Ma’am, please wake up.”

The woman stands there, interrupting our happy moment and keeps calling me.

Ring! Ring!

The sound of the alarm adds to our discomfort. 

I feel like I'm going completely insane. I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. As I look around, I realize that my pants are wet, and I notice a woman in a maid outfit smiling at me.

Shit!

Just a bit longer, and I'll be able to have sex with him. Why won't you let me sleep in a bit more? I'm not ready to wake up yet! I never am!

“What time is it now? I'm going to be late. I need to go to school." I grab my phone from the bed and check the time.

Today is Sunday.

Phew! I usually start overthinking when I wake up in the morning.

"You look tired, ma'am." The woman sits beside me on the bed, meeting my gaze. "I’m preparing breakfast for you. Please get up and enjoy it."

"Thank you," I say. "Just call me Sarah, miss. By the way, I appreciate your kindness." I get out of bed and go to the restroom.

As I go out, she carefully arranges the pillows and creates a perfect setup for me to sit comfortably. 

Then she prepares a tray with all the essentials - scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered toast, fresh orange juice, and a steaming hot cup of coffee.

“Thank you very much,” I really appreciate her doing it for me. “I think we should eat together.”

"No, ma'am. There are many servants here, and we eat together in the servants' canteen," she says as she bows her head and quickly leaves the room.

 I feel a little ashamed and bow my head in return.

Looking around the room, I notice how spacious it is. I don’t quite get what happened yesterday. Perhaps I overslept then I missed my chance to have a hot night with my crush. How stupid I am.

I savor each bite of my breakfast, enjoying the flavors: the eggs taste rich and creamy, while the bacon is crispy and salty. The toast is perfectly cooked and delicious with melted butter. 

Taking a sip of fresh orange juice, the sweet and tangy taste wakes up my taste buds. 

This maid must be an excellent cook.

My dad’s image appeared in my head causing me disgust, I cannot swallow this tasty food in front of me any longer. I wonder where Henry is. Maybe he needs to go to his company I suppose. But today is Sunday, why does he not stay here with me? Why did he escape from me after all?

I get out of the king-size bed and start to explore.

The room is spacious and tastefully decorated with elegant furniture and artwork on the walls.

As I walk towards the bookshelf, I notice a plaque on the wall next to it that reads "DC Company CEO, Henry Lincoln." My heart skips a beat as I realize that Henry is not only a successful businessman but also my scholarship sponsor.

I won his contest. Holy shit.

My attention is drawn to the novel bookshelf as I am curious about what he likes to read. 

I run my fingers over the spines of the books, scanning the titles for something that catches my eye. 

My eyes are drawn to a particular book, its cover worn and pages cat-eared.

I pick it up and start to read.

As I turn the pages, a pink cover letter drops from the book, and I pick it up. 

My cheeks feel hot as I see the sender's name.

“Sarah Raven”

My ears heat up as I open the letter and read it.

Oh shit! I was such a devilish kid back then.

“Dear Henry,

I love you. Do you love me too? Check YES or NO.

From your best friend,

Sarah

P.S. Please circle your answer.”

As I read the love letter that I wrote when I was six years old, I can't help but cringe and laugh at the same time. 

The grammar mistakes and childish handwriting are too cute to handle. 

I can't believe that Henry has kept it all these years.

I wonder what he thought when he first received it. 

Did he find it adorable or was he weirded out?

(phone ringing)

“I'm the bad boy, yeah, yeah, yeah

Love is not for me, me, me, me.

..."

As my phone vibrates, I walk over to my bed to pick it up and see "Mommy" appear on the screen.

"Hello, mom."

"Sarah, where are you?"

"I'm hanging out with my friend."

"At this time? I can't believe that the person who just woke up after lunchtime on the weekend is waking up earlier than me today."

"Mom, I have a date."

"Sure. You and your dad disappear overnight and leave me alone here on weekends. That's how you guys show your love for me, right?”

"Come on, mom. I've got to go back home soon."

"Sure! Let's see if you can keep your promise."

I let out a long sigh, thinking about how sad my family situation is. My mom knows nothing and just complains about why Dad and I haven't come home. But the truth is, her husband was cheating on her last night.

I’m speechless.

I let out another sigh before noticing a set of new women's clothes neatly placed on the bed.

There's no doubt that the woman who made me breakfast prepared them for me. 

I slip into the red T-shirt and jeans, grab my purse and high heels, and head out of the room.

As I walk down the stairs and into the hallway, a man with blonde hair, a bright face, and a sunny smile waves at me.

"Madam, would you like to go home? I've been assigned to take you home."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

He gently instructs me to wait in the garden while he goes to get the car. 

A grayish-blue Lamborghini parks in front of me, and I get in. As my phone vibrates, I glance at the screen, which shows "Mommy." 

"Hello, Mom. I'm on my way home."

"Sarah," my mom says with a trembling voice. "Your dad, he... he," she trails off, and I can hear her sobbing over the phone.

"What’s wrong, Mom?" I ask, my brow furrowing as uneasy with my mom’s voice. 

She sounds urgent for no reason. She should be worried about what her husband did to her instead of bothering me.

"He... he passed away."

What?!