BRANDONI’ve never been closer to finding one of the persons who could be the reason for my family’s demise before. Finding those murderers has become my life’s purpose. They ruined my life enough.Annette Teller, my father’s fucking mistress. Oliver and I have been looking for her for a long time, and this very intriguing chef is bearing the information in her hands.For some reason, this Alayna Hart has triggered something in me—something inexplicable. I’m very meticulous with the food I consume, as it is one of the few things that can bring me joy in this very boring life. Oliver knows I won’t eat something my tongue would despise. But Alayna makes every meal special, despite not following the rules about improvising. Her little handwritten notes, I admit, are entertaining.Strangely, the person who can bring delight to my meals is also the person who could end my agony. I craved and longed for justice in this life, and I’m finally close to that reality. That way, I may finally get
I can see half of his face through a shaft of light that slips from somewhere in the room. I want to step back, but I’m pinned to the wall with his hands on my wrist, pushing me a little harder. His breathing rapid, his chiseled mouth almost touching mine. A familiar smell of aftershave tickles my nose.“Alayna Hart!”“Oh God—” I look around me as the sharp sound of bells ring.Ms. Lennie glares at me. She is holding a small bell, enough to wake a girl who had an intimidating dream. Next to her are two maids who look precisely alike, and they are staring at me. Obviously, they are trying their hardest not to laugh. Their small, marble eyes betray their fake expressionless look. I feel my face burning with shame.What are they doing here?“The Master will see you in ten minutes. He expects you to be early,” Ms. Lennie says.“What? He’s—he’s what? Why?” I ask in a panic. “What did I do wrong now?”“For your information, young lady, you forced the Master hand with your conditions. I want
Silence fills the room for a couple of seconds. I’m thinking of a reason to divert his attention.“The painting!” I cry. “Uh... the girl in the painting, she’s beautiful. Who is she?” I ask, then swallow hard, praying he won’t remember what I’ve just said.How can I be so stupid? One doesn’t make comments expressing admiration for such a dangerous person. How could I even say those words so quickly? All I wanted was to know why he was hiding from the world when he had nothing to be ashamed of.His expression is annoyed. He stares at me with a questioning look, then takes a deep breath.“I could fire you right away for being too nosy. You’d better be thankful that the information you have won’t make you a jobless newbie.”Wow! I exclaim mentally. Am I supposed to thank him then? It was he who made such fuss about it after telling me he was still going to fire me. I only protected my rights.“Yes, and unfortunately, I still have that information,” I retaliate. His sex appeal shouldn’t o
My jaw drops. What the hell was that?I watch him swiftly wipe his lips with the napkin provided. Is it something I said? Something I did? Is it the food? I take a bite of the brioche, then pop it in my mouth. No, of course, it’s not the food. It’s delicious.He stands up and takes several steps away from me, but my feet seem to have a mind of their own. I follow him in a flash, just in time to stop him from opening the door.“Wait!” I yell as I grab his arm.“Don’t touch me!” he shouts, pulling his arm back. His voice is like the Beast’s—Belle’s Beast. My heart skips a beat.His masked face looks down on me; he is glaring and breathing heavily. I stagger back.“Rule number two. I hate being touched.”I shudder at the sound of his voice. I feel ashamed for only grabbing his arm. Is this another reason he hates going out of his room other than his hiding-from-the-whole-world game? He hates being touched?I back away, feeling embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I was wrong. It won’t happen agai
The awkwardness is undeniable. The world takes its time spinning, and everything seems to be in slow motion.I clear my throat. I want to ask him why he wanted me to have dinner with him. He doesn’t socialize with other people, but he can actually eat with someone comfortably. This might be the first time he shares tables with somebody.“Stop staring,” he says softly.“Oh, I’m sorry.” I look away quickly. “But if you don’t mind me asking—”“I was wondering when your next barrage of questions was coming.” He continues to eat, apparently with pleasure. I can’t help but notice how gorgeous he is, even if it’s only half of his face. It’s just too bad he’s wearing a mask.I search for any mark or scar that might have slipped out a little, but I see nothing. Maybe he has hidden it well. Or perhaps not. I’m not even sure if he really has a scar there.“I told you to stop staring.” He meets my gaze this time, jolting me back to reality.“I was wondering why you asked me to eat with you,” I s
At precisely nine o’clock in the morning on Saturday, Oliver pulls up in his black Aston Martin. The window of his car glides down and reveals his smiling face.“Hey, Alayna. Did you wait long?”“Hey, you’re just in time.”“Come on in,” he invites, cocking his head. I open the passenger door and step inside.Ollie said he’s going to briefly meet someone today, but I did not bother asking him where he’s going. He promised he’ll fetch me after the spa so we can go home together.The receptionist at the G&E Spa acknowledges Oliver right away and assists us. I watch how he makes the receptionist blush with his captivating smile, which makes me realize Oliver is naturally kind to everyone. He introduces me to her. She tells me her name’s Sarah and calls over another young woman. I follow her to the back of the spa. Oliver waves at us and leaves the building.Moving through the entrance is like entering another world. Every arched doorway is framed by pearl-colored silk, while ornamented pi
It is bad enough that talking to Brandon makes me feel anxious. It doesn’t help that every time I leave his room, I feel as though I’m battling against unfamiliar feelings.But I don’t like to share...His voice echoes inside my head while I try to understand what he meant. He is not sharing something with anyone. What does he mean by that?I must’ve been walking so absorbedly that I don’t notice anyone or anything on the way.“Alayna!”I jerk as I hear my name. Ms. Lennie is only a foot away, looking at me with a frown.“Are you okay?” Ms. Lennie asks, moving closer in my direction.“Yes, of course, Ms. Lennie. I’m sorry, I was just trying to think of what to do for my rest day.” If there’s something I’ve gotten pretty good at since I arrived here, it’s making excuses and explaining away my behavior. She nods, looking unconvinced. “Mr. Katrakis is waiting for you in your kitchen.”“I’ve got to go, Ms. Lennie. Sorry,” I say in a hurry.“Alayna? Alayna!” I can hear her calling me as I
“W-What do you want?”“I said I want you. Are those words not clear?”“I thought you hate being touched,” I say breathlessly. “Why are you doing this now?”He chuckles. God, his smile. I almost want to faint.“Is that what you think of me?” he asks.“What do you want from me?” I continue to wriggle. “Please, let me go. I can’t feel my hands anymore.”Brandon lifts me, then lays me on the couch, clasping my wrists and pinning my hands above me. “Better? Am I making you uncomfortable?”I squirm against him again, but he is keeping his grasp tight.“If this is about Oliver, you should not—”“This is about you and me,” his voice thickens. “Do you like him so much that you think this is about him?”“You should stop. He’s been friendly to me, always.”His eyes study me. “Let’s say he is. You didn’t answer my question.”I look away from his intense gaze. I jerk my arms from his grip and shove at his chest, then sit up.“No, I don’t, and even if I liked him...” I lift my chin. “What are you g