Dread coils in the pit of my stomach as I make my way down the marble staircase to Nickolas’s study. He summoned me, no doubt, to discuss my behavior at breakfast. My shoulders slump with a sense of sadness. It was nice while it lasted. But instead of dwelling on my sadness, I should be praying that he doesn’t make me regret my actions.
Stepping into his office, my hands suddenly grow clammy as I approach Nickolas’s desk. I discreetly wipe them on my dress, trying to compose myself as I clear my throat to speak.
“You asked for me,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, the confidence I had earlier that morning now nowhere to be found. Nickolas nods in acknowledgment but remains focused on the papers spread out before him, seemingly indifferent to my presence. Sweat begins to bead on my forehead as I brace myself for the inevitable confrontation. He’s going to reprimand me for sure. I should have known better than to toy with him like I did earlier.
Suddenly, I’m jolted out of my thoughts by the sound of Nickolas slamming the document he’s reading onto his desk. My heart leaps into my throat as he rises from his chair and rushes to my side in a matter of seconds. I stand there trembling as I pray silently he only shouts his displeasure, not dole out any harsh punishment for my bold behavior this morning.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his eyes filled with genuine concern as he grabs my arm, pulling me closer to him. I freeze, my body no longer trembling as I struggle to comprehend his unexpected reaction.
“Amelia,” he calls, gently shaking me to bring me out of my trance.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” I manage to reply, attempting to extricate myself from his grasp. He releases me without protest.
“Are you sure?” Nickolas asks, his brow furrowing with an expression of genuine concern that has me regarding him with narrowed eyes. Why does he seem so inexplicably worried about me? It is… weird.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I state firmly, forcing conviction into my voice.
“That’s good to hear,” he replies with a small nod before turning away to approach his desk. Retrieving something from its surface, he extends it out to me. “Here you go.”
“Eric asked me to give this to you,” Nickolas explains as he hands me the square-shaped object wrapped in plain paper. I tear it open and can’t stifle the excited squeal that bursts from my lips.
“Oh heavens above!” I clutch the gift tightly, practically vibrating with glee. “I can’t believe Eric actually got this for me!” My voice rises into an embarrassingly girlish pitch of delight.
“Hmm,” Nickolas murmurs, the small sound effectively grounding me back to reality. I quickly compose myself.
“Sorry,” I murmur sheepishly.
“It’s fine,” he assures with a dismissive wave of his hand as he moves to retake his seat behind the desk.
“I didn’t know you were a reader.” He dons his glasses,
leaning forward with curious intensity. “What kind of books do you enjoy?”
I settle across from him, excitement bubbling up at the prospect
of discussing my passion. “I read all types of romance novels,” I
reply with a bright smile.
“Hmm, I should’ve known.” He leans back abruptly,
retrieving files from his drawer in a dismissive gesture. As he buries himself
in the paperwork, something clicks inside me – a flicker of offense at his
indifferent “hmm.”
“Do you have a problem with someone who only reads
romance?” I ask carefully. I’ve encountered supernaturals who view such
tales as frivolous wastes of time. A sinking feeling tells me Nickolas may be
among them.
He looks up, his gaze piercing. “I won’t say it’s a waste of
time, but I believe nothing is truly gained by reading such… fluff.”
Anger surges through me like a flashfire. “What do you mean
nothing is gained?” I demand hotly. “I’ll have you know I’ve learned
a great deal from romance books.”
Nickolas huffs out a skeptical breath. \
“Nickolas!” I exclaim, fuming at his obvious disdain.
“Name one thing you’ve learned that made a significant
impact,” he challenges, holding my stare unblinkingly.
“A lot of things,” I reply, desperately searching my brain for something that Nickolas won’t be able to refute.
“I said name one, Amelia,” he interjects, his gaze piercing and unwavering, causing my mind to suddenly go blank. I’ve learned countless things from my books, many of which are deeply personal and intimate. They’ve taught me about aspects of myself that I once felt ashamed of, but reading about them made me proud to embrace my sexual desires. However, I can’t bring myself to reveal those to Nickolas, no matter how much they’ve empowered me.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, diverting his attention back to the papers in front of him.
A ball of fury ignites in my chest, fueled by the need to defend my cherished books. Without a second thought, I snatch the papers from Nickolas’s desk and forcefully lift his chin to meet my gaze. His eyes widen in surprise, but he makes no move to stop me.
“I will have you know that my ‘book daddies’ have taught me a lot of things,” I declare, my voice trembling with a mixture of defiance and passion.
“Book ‘daddies’?” Nickolas raises a brow.
“Yes, book ‘daddies,'” I reply, maintaining the same level of confidence that had propelled me to lift his chin moments before.
“And what have they taught you, little one?” he asks, his hand finding its way into my hair, sending a shiver down my spine. I swallow hard, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture.
“So many things,” I respond, meeting his gaze with a heart pounding in my chest. Our proximity is intoxicating, his scent enveloping me like a warm embrace.
“Like being daddy’s good girl,” Nickolas murmurs, his gaze unwavering. My breath catches in my throat. How does he know? Does he understand what I’m into?
He pulls back, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. It’s then that I realize-he definitely knows. With a slow, deliberate movement, he withdraws his hand from my hair and leans back in his seat, the smirk still lingering on his face.
Without another word, I shoot out of the chair and bolt from his office, my mind racing with questions and confusion. How the hell does he know?