The Innocent Girl Who Stole His Heart

Chapter 4

"Do all ladies wear things like this?" Adrian asked, his voice cutting through the lingering tension in the car, his gaze fixed on my seething, embarrassed face. It was a loaded question, delivered with infuriating casualness.

Actually, no, I don't wear anything like this. I fumed internally, my cheeks still burning. I'm a decent girl to the core! I just lost my virginity last Friday at 28! And I dressed this way specifically to annoy James, my blind date. I was just unlucky enough to run into my one-night stand at the restaurant, and now here. I rolled my eyes, ready for a scathing reply.

Before I could launch my verbal assault, he hit me with another unexpected question. "Are you an orphan?"

"No!" I snapped, caught off guard.

"Then go ask your mother," he taunted, a sly grin playing on his lips, hinting that my attire was her fault.

"Insolence!" I bit back, the word a familiar, sharp weapon. "You're too rude!" I bet you will remain single for the rest of your life, "because no man will be willing to marry a wife who libels his mother!"

"Amen!" he declared, his voice surprisingly cheerful, almost triumphant. "I claim your generous prayer! So be it."

"So you wish to be single forever?" he asked, a flicker of genuine confusion in his eyes, as if he couldn't quite fathom my declaration.

"Yes!" I glared at him, my resolve solid. So no need to comment on how rude I am. I won't be marrying any of you serpents."

Adrian hadn't seen a woman as ruthlessly defiant as me before. He shook his head, a faint, almost pitying expression on his face. "Well, it's advice from me. Don't wear anything like this anymore. It doesn't portray you well. It makes you look desperate, not defiant."

"I don't need your word of advice! "I will wear whatever I please, however I please!" I jeered, challenging his condescension, refusing to let him dictate anything about me.

Adrian gave out a rueful, knowing smile, a subtle hint of amusement in his eyes. "At least wear a tight next time". "Don't go around exposing your underwear," he said, his voice laced with pure sarcasm, a subtle flick of his eyes downwards.

"Huh?" My cheeks flared crimson, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over me. The world seemed to tilt again. So he did see my panties! No wonder he bent down for those agonizing minutes, feigning interest in my purse. He must have watched enough, the shameless, lustful thing. My earlier anger reignited, sharper than before.

"You're not in a position to tell me what to wear under anything!" I leaned forward, my voice a low growl, preparing for a devastating counter-attack. "You've got bad breath", you know that? "Please, for the love of all that is holy, brush your teeth!" "It stinks!" I wrinkled my nose in exaggerated disgust, hoping to hit a nerve.

Adrian's jaw dropped. He arched a dark brow, his eyes widening in disbelief, a rare crack in his arrogant facade. "It's the same stinky mouth that you kissed every inch and cranny of that night, like never before, isn't it?"

"I was drunk that night!" he interrupted my furious thoughts, a sudden, defensive edge to his voice.

"It's all the same!" I retaliated, sticking out my tongue in a childish, mocking gesture. "The fact that you kissed these lips can never change!"

"So shameless, you daughter of a b***h!" he cursed, his voice low, simmering with controlled fury.

"Son of a thousand fathers!" I retaliated, my own anger boiling over, matched by the drumming of the heavy rain against the car roof.

Just then, Stephen, the driver, halted the car smoothly at the imposing, wrought-iron gates of a grand estate. The high walls, illuminated by the distant flash of lightning, seemed to stretch endlessly into the stormy night.

"Why did you stop?" I demanded, my voice still sharp with indignation.

"Of course he had to stop. "Or do you want to follow me to my house?" Adrian responded on behalf of Stephen, a clear challenge in his voice.

I shut my eyes and re-opened them, a desperate attempt to process his implication. My mind raced, trying to find an escape. "Why don't you ask for directions? "So I can lead you to where I live!" I pleaded, glancing at Stephen, then back to Adrian, a fragile hope flickering.

"I asked on his behalf," Adrian said, mimicking my earlier pout, a hint of amusement returning to his eyes. "But you began to throw tantrums."

"OMG, how do I get home?" I bit my lower lip, the full weight of my predicament sinking in. No money, no phone, no car. I was truly stranded.

"How about spending the night at my place?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint, clearly relishing my helplessness.

"Are you that generous?" I asked, suspicion lacing my voice, even as a tiny part of me considered the offer.

"You can leave if you don't want to," he responded, leaning back, feigning nonchalance, challenging me to refuse.

I looked out through the window. The rain was still falling heavily, a thick, impenetrable curtain of water obscuring everything beyond the warmth of the car. Where could I possibly go with no money, no phone, no shelter? Now I was truly hopeless. This guy was a devil. Could he have planned all this? The thought, though ridiculous, briefly flickered in my mind. But it isn't possible! He probably couldn't have control of the rain! Or could he? I bit my finger, my mind reeling, desperate for a solution.

Maybe I should just accept the offer. Tomorrow morning, I will leave, I decided. It was a temporary truce with the devil, a desperate measure against the elements.

I breathed out slowly, a defeated sigh. "Okay! It's just a sleepover. No strings attached."

"I can't have any strings with you, even if you are craving for it," Adrian taunted, his smirk returning, his words a direct challenge to my previous confession of being turned on.

Stephen then drove the car inside the expansive, perfectly manicured parking lot, the crunch of gravel under the tires barely audible beneath the drumming rain. He finally halted the car at the imposing front entrance of what was clearly a mansion, a sprawling edifice of glass and stone.

"Good night, Sir," Stephen said, a polite nod, before quickly exiting the scene, leaving us alone in the hushed, rain-soaked interior.

Neeve and Adrian stared at each other with unconcealed loathing, the silence between us charged and heavy. If glaring could kill, both of us would have died a thousand deaths on that spot.

"Shall we?" Adrian broke the hostile stares, a subtle smirk playing on his lips as he gestured towards the grand entrance, almost daring me to follow.

I walked after him, feeling utterly defeated, like a drenched chicken. My designer gown, now limp and clinging uncomfortably to my skin, was a poor shadow of its earlier defiant glory. As I stepped inside, my anger momentarily evaporated, replaced by genuine awe. The living room was breathtaking, a sprawling space adorned with exquisite artwork and tasteful, modern furnishings. It was an art gallery in itself, a testament to immense wealth. My gaze fell upon a framed photograph on a side table: that serpent Adrian, looking surprisingly tender, hugging a woman in her mid-fifties, her face kind and aristocratic. Probably his mother, I thought, a flicker of surprise cutting through my anger.

I was cut out of my thoughts by his voice. "Change into this." He handed me a pair of soft, plush flip-flops. My heels, now soaked and painful, were quickly pulled off, and I gratefully slipped into the cozy slippers. The relief was instantaneous.

Adrian walked towards a sleek, modern refrigerator in the expansive, open-plan kitchen, effortlessly pulling out a pitcher of orange juice. Without asking, he poured out a tall glass for himself and a significantly shorter one for me, a subtle insult to the unequal serving.

"Thanks," I mumbled, taking the glass from him. I gulped it down, the cold sweetness a welcome relief against my dry throat. I was damn thirsty. This guy sure has a good side, I thought, a small, involuntary smile touching my lips.

"What is the cause of your smile?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly, catching my fleeting expression.

"Should I report that to you?" I retorted, still guarding my thoughts, unwilling to give him any more power.

"Yes!" he insisted, taking a step closer, his presence suddenly looming over me, intimidating in the vast room. "Why? Because you're in my house."

I instinctively moved backwards, maintaining a safe distance. "I don't want to argue with you. Where is the guest room?"

"Say 'please' and I will tell you," he smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes, clearly relishing his temporary advantage.

I rolled my eyes. This guy is truly misusing his opportunity. It's just for tonight. I will endure. "Please…" I dragged the word out, making it sound more like a concession than a polite request.

"Come with me," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. I watched after him, my annoyance growing with each step. Adrian opened a door, pushed me in, and then with a curt, almost dismissive, "Good night!" he shut the door firmly in my face, the click of the lock echoing in the quiet room.

I flopped onto the warm, inviting bed. After the humiliation of my damp gown, showering was a must. I couldn't possibly clad myself back in my dirty, sequined dress. I needed new garments for the night. I opened the large, polished wardrobe and, to my surprise, found a delicate lingerie set. I held it up, the sheer fabric barely there. Oh, God, is this what ladies wear for sleeping here? It was a delicate, translucent blue, barely covering anything, exposing "all my possessions," as I grimly noted. There was nothing else in the closet. I had no choice but to put it on.

I switched off the light and, exhausted from the day's drama, finally drifted off to sleep. After some hours of deep slumber, I began to hear a soft, insistent "meow" sound. My eyes snapped open in the pitch darkness, my heart jumping.

Oh, God, is there a ghost in this house? I instantly covered my head with the duvet, pulling it tightly over my ears, but it was helpless.