CHAPTER 15: TRAPPED IN HIS STUDY
1074 Words
DAPHNE’S POV
My body went still.
The words I had just heard echoed in my head, refusing to fade.
“…letting him live will be the last.”
My fingers curled slightly at my sides, my heart pounding harder than before.
Was he talking about… that man?
The one from the restroom?
A chill ran down my spine. I took a small step back, my thoughts scattered.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have stopped.
I turned slightly, meaning to leave quietly before he noticed my presence.
But my elbow hit something–a vase.
Before I could react, it tipped over.
Time slowed for a second.
Then—crash.
The sharp sound shattered through the quiet hallway.
My breath caught. “Oh no—” My hands flew to my mouth, as I shook my head.
The study door opened almost immediately. My heart dropped.
Cassius stepped out.
His gaze moved from the broken vase… to me.
I froze completely.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
His eyes were sharp, unreadable, but I could feel the weight of his attention.
I swallowed hard, panic rising in my chest.
“I—I just…” My voice shook. “I was going to get water, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t—”
“You’re bleeding.”
His voice cut through mine, calmly.
I stopped talking.
My eyes followed his gaze downward. Only then did I notice it.
A thin line of blood ran down my leg.
The broken pieces of the vase were scattered around my feet, and one of them must have cut me.
“I…” I blinked, suddenly aware of the sting. “I didn’t even feel it.”
Cassius didn’t respond. Instead, he stepped closer.
Before I could react, he bent slightly and picked me up.
A soft gasp escaped my lips as my hands instinctively went to his shoulders.
He carried me into his study without another word and shut the door behind us.
The room was dimly lit, quiet, and smelled faintly of fresh papers and coffee.
He walked straight to his desk and placed me on it.
My breath hitched slightly.
Sitting there, with him standing so close, made my heart start racing again.
He moved away briefly, opening a drawer and taking out a small box. A first aid kit.
I watched him silently as he returned and stood between my legs.
My fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the desk.
“You should watch where you’re going,” he said, his tone calm but edged with annoyance.
I lowered my gaze.
“I didn’t mean to break it,” I murmured.
“That’s not the point.” He muttered.
If that wasn’t the point… then what was? The injury?
My heart skipped a beat.
His focus shifted to my knee.
The cut wasn’t deep, but it was enough to bleed.
He reached for a cotton pad and poured something onto it.
The sharp scent hit me immediately–methylated spirit.
Before I could prepare myself, he pressed it against the cut.
A sharp sting shot through my knee.
“Ah—” I flinched, my fingers gripping the desk tightly.
“It stings,” I muttered, my lips forming a small pout without me realizing it.
Cassius paused for a second, then leaned closer.
Before I could understand what he was doing, he blew gently over the wound.
I stilled. My breath caught in my throat.
The sting eased slightly under the cool air, but something else replaced it.
My heart. It started beating faster–much faster.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Not when he was so close.
I was wearing boy shorts that stopped at my mid-thighs, my legs bare and far too close to him.
He stayed like that for a moment, focused on what he was doing.
Then he lifted his head slightly, and our eyes met.
For a brief second, something shifted in his expression.
It was quick–so quick I almost thought I imagined it.
He cleared his throat and looked away, continuing what he was doing.
“Hold still,” he said.
I nodded faintly, even though he wasn’t looking at me.
Silence filled the room again.
“Does your stomach still hurt?” he asked after a moment.
I blinked.
“Yes. A little,” I replied softly. “It’s better than before.”
He didn’t say anything to that.
My mind drifted back to what I overheard earlier. Was he talking about the man from the restroom? I thought security had taken care of it. Then why did it sound like he had something else planned?
My fingers curled slightly on the desk.
I hesitated for a second, then spoke.
“I heard…” I stuttered, quietly.
He stopped.
Slowly, he looked up at me.
The air changed instantly, my throat went dry.
“What did you hear?” he asked, calmly.
I swallowed.
“I didn’t mean to listen,” I said quickly. “I just… I was passing by and I heard your voice and then—”
He stepped closer.
Before I could finish, his hands came up, resting on either side of me on the desk, trapping me.
My breath hitched.
I leaned back slightly, my heart racing again.
“I asked,” he said slowly, his voice lower now, “what did you hear?”
My cheeks felt warm.
“I didn’t hear everything,” I said quickly. “Just… a few words.”
His gaze darkened, and I gulped.
My fingers tightened against the desk. “I heard you say… you didn’t care what it takes,” I continued, my voice soft. “And… to make him pay.” I said, innocently.
I suddenly became aware of how close we were. One small movement, and our bodies would brush.
I tried to stay still but my restlessness chose that moment to kick in.
As I shifted slightly, my knee brushed against his middle section.
My eyes widened instantly, my breath caught.
I froze.
The contact was brief, but it was enough to send heat rushing to my face.
I didn’t dare move. I didn’t dare breathe too loudly.
No one said a word.
His gaze darkened slightly.
And still… he didn’t move away. Neither did I.
My heart pounded wildly in my chest as I looked at him, unsure of what he would do next.
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