HE HAS DARIEN’S FACE
840 Words
I shot to my feet on instinct, my heart hammering against my chest.
“Who the hell are you?” My voice came out fast as I backed away, gripping the cutlery so tightly my fingers hurt.
Then the lights in the dining room shifted—brighter.
And that’s when I saw him properly.
His body first.
All black on black, leaning casually against the wall at the entrance of the dining room.
My breath caught.
The room suddenly felt smaller… harder to breathe in.
I couldn’t even find words.
Then he adjusted the light again.
And I saw his face.
Damn.
He was dangerously, unfairly attractive. Leaning there like he owned the space, like nothing in the world could touch him.
“Hey,” he said, stepping forward slowly, hands loosely crossed.
The smile on his face—and the calm in his dark green eyes—felt wrong. Too calm. Too sure.
I don’t even know this man.
“Who are you?” My voice came out hoarse.
How did someone like this even get in here?
The mansion was huge. If I screamed, I wasn’t even sure anyone would hear me.
So I didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe right.
Just stayed still.
“Who I am doesn’t matter,” he said, still walking closer. “I complimented you. And I didn’t get a thank you?”
His tone was calm… but there was something under it. Sarcasm. Maybe mockery.
I swallowed hard.
He was close enough now that I could see him clearly.
And then—
Wait.
My stomach dropped.
That face…
It looked familiar.
Too familiar.
No.
No way.
Darien.
He had Darien’s face.
Just younger.
And somehow worse.
More dangerous.
“If you don’t mind,” he said casually, reaching for the spoon on the table, “I could feed you.”
I blinked. “What?”
I didn’t understand a word he was saying.
“Who the hell are you?” I snapped, louder this time, hoping—praying—someone would hear me.
“No need to scream,” he said calmly. “They can’t hear you. And I’m not going to hurt you.”
I opened my mouth to scream again anyway, but nothing came out properly.
My voice betrayed me.
My whole body was shaking now.
I did this to myself.
If I had just followed Miss Vivian upstairs, I wouldn’t be here.
I kept my eyes locked on him, watching every move.
And then—
He was right in front of me.
Too close.
Before I could react, he picked up the spoon from the bowl.
Turning it slowly between his fingers like he’d done it a thousand times before.
“I think I need to teach you this,” he said, dipping it into the soup.
Calm. Controlled.
Like this was normal.
My chest tightened.
“Open your mouth, muffin,” he added, bringing the spoon toward me.
The aroma hit my face.
I gasped.
“Muffin?” I repeated, confused and offended at the same time.
No. I heard that wrong.
I stepped back immediately.
“I don’t know you. Don’t call me that. Get away from me.”
I tried to move again—
But he caught my wrist and pulled me toward him.
I slammed into his chest with a sharp gasp.
Hard.
Unmovable.
“Let me go,” I choked out.
“No,” he said simply.
Final. Certain.
“Someone help!” I screamed.
Footsteps echoed from the stairs.
And just like that, he released me.
Instantly.
Like nothing had happened.
Like I wasn’t just shaking in front of him.
He stepped back, adjusting his shirt slightly.
“Nice to meet you, Vionne,” he said.
I froze.
My name.
He said it like he already knew me.
I said nothing.
Just tried to steady my breathing.
Miss Vivian’s voice broke the silence.
“What’s going on?” she asked quickly.
She stepped into the room—
and stopped.
The moment she saw him, her entire body changed.
Still.
Controlled.
Afraid.
Her eyes moved from me to him.
Then she lowered her gaze slightly.
“Good evening, sir,” she said, bowing a little.
My eyes widened slightly.
Sir?
“Hello, Miss Vivian,” he replied casually, but his eyes stayed on me.
Always on me.
“You should teach her how to eat properly.”
Miss Vivian only nodded.
Quiet.
Careful.
Like she couldn’t afford the wrong response.
He stepped back toward the door.
“Have a great day.”
And just like that, he left.
Like he had never been there.
But his presence didn’t leave with him.
It stayed.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
I turned slowly to Miss Vivian.
“Who the hell was that man?” I scoffed. “Is he normal?”
She didn’t answer.
Just looked away.
Then she sighed.
“We have to go,” she said quietly. “He’s waiting for you.”
My stomach dropped.
“He?”
What other “he” could it be…
except Darien?
- Writer
