HER FATHER-IN-LAW

(Thomas White's Mansion - 1:02 PM)

Shocked, Roseline’s breath seized for a second, then resumed again, heavy against her chest.

There was something about the voice that seemed dreary, strict, like she had just been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Turning around slowly, her heart beating fast and her brain wracking for the best words to explain the situation, her eyes landed on the man who had spoken earlier from behind her.

Instantly, she knew he was the always-talked-about Mr. Thomas White, the head chairman of The Zones, the father of her fiancé whom she had come to pay a visit.

"Hmph! Not bad. The press had not been exaggerating then," she acknowledged sadly, giving the man standing a step away from her a thorough look from head to toe without even realizing it.

He was tall. Old, but tall. Two features that were hard to find in the same person. His hair a mass of grey with a few black strands.

He had arms that were obviously strong from the way the light black knitted sweater he wore framed them. Roseline could have sworn he had abs too.

His expression was plain, a bit tight, but it was just a wasted effort to hide how good his facial features complemented each other.

His eyes sparkled behind the thick spectacles hanging on the bridge of his nose, his brows shaped to fit above them like garlands.

Speaking of his nose, it was long and sleek. It would have been a tick off the high-end London models' requirements.

His lips...

"Come off it!"

Roseline tore her eyes away from his body, shifting her attention to the floor, but somehow, her eyes managed to find their way back to his feet.

His toes stuck out of the simple cotton trousers he wore. Firm and attractive.

He was barefoot.

Sighing, Roseline blinked away.

Thomas, on the other hand, went speechless as soon as the strange woman whom he had walked up to see writhing in pain inside his own house turned to face him.

It was her. The woman from the night at the hotel.

His heart began to thump hard and heavy in his chest. His stomach turned with excitement to see her again, but at the same time, his mind was restless.

What was she doing in his house?

He had lost his mind that night and risked everything by having the best sex of his life with a woman young enough to be his daughter.

He had admired her bare body sprawled naked on his bed through the rest of the night, checking out of the hotel as soon as the counter opened—but not before making sure that the hotel authorities traced the woman's room and got her to the room she was now in.

He had walked out of the room, closing the door against her, sure that he would never have any cause to cross paths with her again.

But apparently, he was still out of his mind because he had never stopped thinking about her since then.

He was going to reach out to her when his feelings started to get out of control, but with a reputation to protect, and without knowing how the woman in question would react to it all, he had decided against that decision.

"Hello, Mr. Thomas," Roseline spoke first, biting down hard on her teeth to ease the pain that strained her ankle.

What!

She knew who he was.

Thomas was torn between all of the different emotions he was feeling at that moment.

Breathing in and out slowly, careful not to show how anxious he had become, he kept his eyes on her.

"I said it. We weren't going to get along well," Roseline muttered under her breath.

Adjusting her stance on the unaffected leg and balancing as much as the situation could allow on the rail behind her, she cleared her throat carefully.

"My name is Roseline Johnson. I am..." Roseline continued, but was interrupted by Thompson calling out her name as he rushed up the stairs.

Thomas turned.

"What was going on?" he wondered, his expression still tight and unbothered as he watched his son race up the stairs to where Roseline stood.

"Hey! Roseline, what are you still doing up here?" Thompson spoke, turned to Roseline, in a hard low tone, his eyes staring down at her fiercely.

Without even waiting for her to answer or paying attention to how she was leaned uncomfortably on the railing, he turned to his father.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. Roseline can be really clumsy."

Roseline's eyes widened in utter embarrassment at Thompson's words against her.

"Dad, have you been well? You know, we had plans to come see you today even before you called. Right? Roseline?" Thompson continued, turning towards her for affirmation on what he had said.

What was he talking about?

Roseline, unable to understand why he had to tell such a lie, found it very difficult to flow with the rhythm and ended up replying with a small smile that stalled for several seconds before it came through evenly.

Thomas, tired of watching Thompson try too hard to impress him by totally ignoring Roseline's injured ankle, coughed before speaking.

"Thompson, who is she?"

He knew what the likeliest answer to the question would be, but still needing the bitter confirmation, he had asked.

"Sorry, my bad. This is Roseline Johnson, my fiancée," Thompson said the words he had no idea would pierce a thousand holes in his father's heart.

Thomas's lips curved upwards like he was about to smile, but retracted almost immediately. No one would have noticed.

He knew he had to bury whatever feelings he had for this woman now. She was clearly off his limits.

"Roseline, meet my father," Thompson turned briefly to her, then, turning back to his father, he continued enthusiastically.

"Dad, how was your appointment with the doctor? Mum extends her greetings. I think we should..."

"Thompson!" Thomas called out, crashing into his son's sentence without warning, his voice raised and stern.

Roseline scoffed. Her leg was beginning to feel numb. She wanted to at least sit, if first aid would be too much to ask at that time.

Thompson, whose lips were slightly apart from the words that had just been shoved back down his throat, stood there, almost frozen for seconds.

"Is this some kind of a family opera?" Roseline shook her head, looking down to mask the unpleasant expression her face bore.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I was going to ask that we sit down and have a proper conversation," Thompson continued, picking at his words like a child taking his best shot at explaining to his mother why he broke her favorite teacup.

"I think the guest is injured. Get her first aid," Thomas said coldly before walking down the stairs, not sparing neither Roseline nor Thompson the next look.

"What!" Thompson responded as he turned to Roseline, confusion mapped hard on his face.

"Are you injured? Let's see. I didn't know," he spoke impatiently, his eyes darting towards his father as he descended the stairs.