“No… I’m fine. Just save him. Save Felix first. You have to get him out. I don’t care if I die, but he has to live. Felix has to live, so…”
“So please save my son.”
I gasped, jolting awake, my hand instinctively flying to my throat as I struggled to breathe. No matter how hard I tried, it felt like my breath was trapped. Sweat trickled down my forehead, and my trembling fingers reached to clutch my chest.
“Breathe, Valentina, breathe,” I whispered under my breath, trying to calm the panic surging through me, but I froze the moment I uttered that name.
Valentina? That name…
Before I could dwell on it, a sudden wave of nausea overwhelmed me. My hand flew to my mouth as I gagged, and without a second thought, I rushed toward the bathroom.
I barged in, heading straight for the sink. I didn’t even make it to the toilet before I leaned over, letting it all out in one agonizing rush.
I gagged and closed my eyes as a throbbing pain overwhelmed my senses, nearly blurring my vision. I hissed and gripped the edge of the sink, trying to push through the discomfort. After a few moments of standing there, I finally managed to steady myself and regain control.
“Fuck! That was so painful,” I breathed out, taking a deep, shaky breath before turning on the tap to clean the mess. Once I finished, I leaned in and splashed cold water on my face, rinsing my mouth to rid myself of the lingering taste.
The moment I straightened and glanced at the mirror, my breath caught in my throat. My heart nearly stopped as I froze in place because standing behind me-just inches away-was Alexander, dressed in nothing but a towel slung low around his waist.
My eyes widened, and I gasped, narrowing my gaze at the reflection in the mirror. Before I could fully process what I was seeing, I turned sharply around-but it was a terrible decision. The instant I spun, my foot slipped, and I gasped as I felt myself falling.
Time seemed to slow, every second dragging like a scene from a movie in slow motion. My eyes locked on Alexander, his expression a mix of irritation and indifference as he stood there, making no attempt to catch me. My mouth opened and closed, trying to form words, but only a soft wheeze escaped. Just as I was about to hit the ground, I saw him sigh in frustration, muttering something under his breath along the words “stupid girl” as he begrudgingly extended a hand to help me.
But before he could reach me, I instinctively grabbed for something-anything-to brace myself. My hand landed on what turned out to be his…
Towel.
And in one horrifying moment, it slipped away.
He froze, a shocked expression etched on his face as he looked at me with wide eyes, while I landed on the ground with a resounding thud, the towel clutched tightly in my hand.
“Ow! Oh my God, that hurts!” I hissed, rubbing my sore backside as sharp pain radiated from where I had fallen.
Blinking back tears, I instinctively reached for the towel in my hand to wipe them away, but then, like a jolt of lightning, the realization of what I had just done hit me like a slap to the face.
Oh, Lord in heaven. Did I just…
My eyes shot up to meet Alexander’s. He was still standing in front of me, his face frozen in shock. But then, as if the world decided I hadn’t suffered enough, his expression began to shift into something far worse-pure, unfiltered rage, a sharp killing intent radiating from him and directed solely at me.
My heart dropped. I slapped a hand over my mouth, my wide eyes flickering downward before I could stop myself. And then, as if possessed by the devil himself, a wave of heat surged through me, my cheeks and ears turning an embarrassingly bright shade of red.
So big. He’s massive. Oh God, how could you create a man so perfect?
The last time I had seen him naked, I hadn’t really gotten a good look-he’d covered himself too quickly. But now…
I licked my bottom lip nervously as inappropriate and wildly imaginative scenarios began to form in my mind.
Gosh, how would it feel to have a man like Alexander dominate you in bed? A tall, muscular man with tattoos adorning his body like a masterpiece of art.
Stop it.
I shook my head, clamping my legs together in a desperate attempt to suppress the sudden heat coursing through me. Forcing myself to tear my gaze away from his lower half, I looked up-and immediately regretted it.
Alexander’s angry glare was fixed on me, his eyes burning with rage.
Uh-huh. I was in trouble.
“How dare you-” Alexander’s furious yell was cut off as I abruptly jumped to my feet, quickly bowing my head in apology. I couldn’t let him get too angry. The last time I had crossed him, I was forced to witness a murder. What would he do to me this time?
“F-forgive me! It was really a mistake! I swear I didn’t do it on purpose! I can swear on my life, so please don’t be angry,” I stammered, my eyes glued to the ground. “And I didn’t sneak into your room this time-I swear on my life again! Please believe me!”
Without waiting for his response, I stepped closer, holding out his hand and placing the towel firmly in his grasp.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get going now, dear husband,” I muttered with a nervous smile, stealing a brief glance at his lower half and before he could say a single word, I dashed out of the restroom, not daring to look back.
I ran straight to my room, a blush on my face as I passed the maids, waving at them with an enthusiastic smile. It only seemed to make them stiffen in fear, but I didn’t mind. Why?
Because, for some strange reason, I always felt happy seeing the flustered Alexander Knight.
But almost as soon as I entered my room, my smile froze, and I frowned with a frustrated sigh because standing there was Martha, flanked by maids holding makeup kits and various dresses.
“Good morning, madam. I hope you had a good night’s rest. The master has asked for you to join him and his guests for breakfast today,” she said with a professional smile, though there was a hint of mischief in her eyes as she looked at me.
Oh, great. Another agonizing hour of sitting and doing makeup.
___
After two hours of painstakingly sitting still, Martha finally declared that I was presentable enough for breakfast.
God, it was so hard to sit motionless, unable to move, while they dressed me up as if I were some kind of doll. But, as annoying as it was, I had to admit they knew what they were doing because when I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but admire my reflection for a moment too long.
Now, as I walked behind Martha, trailing after her while she led me to the dining table, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. I puffed out my chest and walked with as much class as I could muster.
Hmph, I was gorgeous.
“We are here, madam,” Martha announced, stepping aside to give me a clear view of what lay ahead.
And almost immediately, the three men turned their gazes toward me.
At the head of the dining table sat Alexander in a crisp black suit, his posture relaxed-almost lazy-as he locked his cold eyes on me, his expression unreadable, unlike the two men seated next to him.
My eyes flickered from Alexander to Damien, who gave me a small nod, his demeanor professional and his appearance impeccably neat.
Then, my gaze shifted to the last man, and I raised a brow as I took in his face.
Black hair and piercing green eyes.
Where have I seen him before? His confused expression mirrored mine for a brief moment before his eyes widened. He gasped and pointed at me dramatically, exclaiming,
“You! The disgusting girl from the restroom!”
The memory hit me instantly, and my eyes widened as I remembered where I had seen him.
Oh my goodness, it’s the player from the restroom!