Sold to the Billionaire Vampire

A New Perspective

Later that morning, several maids came bustling into their rooms and began moving Thalia's things without a word.

"What are you doing?" Talia cried, grabbing at one of the woman's arms. "Those are my things! Where are you taking them?"

"The master asked us to move you to the room down the hall, your highness," the woman answered flatly, ignoring Talia's hysteria. The woman was crazily strong. None of Talia's pulling or shoving seemed to have any effect on her.

"Move me? But why?" Talia followed the small parade of maids down the hall to the new room.

Tears started to gather in her eyes again and she angrily wiped them away. She was so tired of crying and it seemed that was all she did since she was forced into marrying this horrible man.

"We don't ask questions, your highness," another maid answered entering the new room. "We simply do what we are told."

Talia was about to argue again when she stepped over the threshold and her breath caught in her throat. The room was beautiful. It was nothing like Draco's room with its dark wood and red velvets. This room was light and airy with pale yellow walls, a white wooden four-poster bed carved with flowers and draped with sheer white curtains. The curtains on the bed echoed the curtains on the windows which fluttered in in the breeze that were currently filling the room with fresh air.

She breathed deeply as she continued to look around in shock as the women bustled around, putting away her clothes, placing her things on a delicate bedside and dressing tables. A comfortable looking damask covered settee sat in front of an unlit fireplace and Talia went to sit on it to get out of the way. What was Draco thinking? He'd said they were going to share a room but, obviously he'd changed his mind. Did he really want her to be more comfortable while he was gone rather than wanting to get rid of her?

She had to admit this room would be much nicer for her but she was still so confused. She wasn't used to trying to figure out what people were thinking. No one ever taught her how to figure people out. She had been catered to and her every need provided for as a princess. She'd led a charmed life. Here, she was nothing though everyone called her 'highness'. And she especially didn't understand this man who was called her husband!

"Is there anything else we can get you, your highness?" The maid's voice drug Talia out of her musings and she looked up to find the women standing in a row in front of her.

"Um, no thank you," Talia muttered.

They bobbed in unison and a moment later, Talia was alone again.

***********

Molly

The soft morning light streamed through the window, pooling onto the floor where Molly lay curled up like a cat. Alec paused in the doorway, his head tilting slightly as he tried to process the scene before him.

Molly, his strange and unexpected houseguest, was asleep on the hardwood floor, her cheek squished against her arm and drool glistening on the corner of her mouth. She looked impossibly small in his oversized hoodie—the one she’d borrowed last night and clearly had no intention of returning.

He let out a small sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Molly,” he called, his voice firm but not unkind. “Wake up.”

She stirred, her lashes fluttering before her eyes squinted up at him. For a moment, she just blinked blearily, as though trying to process who he was and where she was. When recognition set in, her eyes widened, and she scrambled to sit up.

“Doc?!” she gasped, brushing furiously at her cheek where the evidence of her nap still lingered.

Alec’s mouth quirked slightly, but he schooled his features into something neutral. “There are drool marks on your face.”

Molly let out a tiny squeak, frantically wiping at her face with the sleeve of his hoodie, and he couldn’t stop his lip from twitching upward. “It’s gone,” he assured her dryly, crossing his arms as his gaze swept over the room again. His brow furrowed. “Why are you sleeping on the floor when there’s a perfectly good bed right here?”

Her expression turned sheepish, and she glanced toward the massive king-sized bed that dominated the room. “I tried,” she admitted, her voice small, “but it was too big. The floor is cooler and... safer, I guess.”

“Safer?” Alec repeated, his brows knitting together. “You’re afraid of falling off?”

Molly nodded earnestly, her hands twisting in the hem of the hoodie. “I’ve never slept on such a huge bed,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alec stared at her, his chest tightening unexpectedly. There were so many unspoken things in her admission, so much he didn’t understand about her yet. He ran his fingers through his hair—a mannerism he realized he needed to stop doing around her, considering how often she seemed to compel it out of him.

“Molly…” Hetrailed off, his tone softer now. “You can’t sleep on the floor. You’ll end up with a sore back—or worse. That’s what the bed is for.”

“But…” Molly hesitated, glancing back at the bed as though it were some kind of menacing creature. “What if I roll off in my sleep? Or get lost in the pillows? There’s just so much of it.”

Alec exhaled, caught somewhere between frustration and amusement. “I’m fairly certain you won’t get lost in the pillows.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she folded her arms over her chest defiantly. “You can’t know that! My luck is terrible—you saw it yourself.”

“I think you’ll survive.” He extended a hand toward her, motioning for her to stand. “Come on, up you go.”

Molly hesitated a moment before placing her small hand in his. He tugged her gently to her feet and was immediately struck by just how slight she was. She barely came up to his chest, and the hoodie dwarfed her further, making her appear even more fragile than she already was.

“Why are you here anyway?” she asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts. “Isn’t it still the middle of the night?”

“It’s nine in the morning, Molly,” Alec replied, an eyebrow arching. “You’ve been asleep for thirteen hours. I got worried when you didn’t come downstairs.”

Her eyes widened so much he was worried they might pop out of her head. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to sleep that long,” she said, her words coming out in a panicked rush as she wrung her hands together. “I—I promised to behave and do the chores and everything, and here I am sleeping in like some kind of freeloader—please don’t be mad! Please don’t send me back to the hospital! Or worse, out on the street!”

“Molly—”

“I swear it won’t happen again! I’ll set alarms—even if I don’t know how to work one, I’ll figure it out. Or you could throw a water bucket on me! Whatever it takes, I’ll—”

“Molly!” Alec interrupted, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders. She fell silent immediately, staring up at him with wide, watery eyes that made his chest ache for reasons he didn’t want to examine too closely. He softened his tone, his grip on her lightening. “It’sokay. I’m not mad, and I’m not throwing you out. You needed the rest. Honestly, I’d prefer you take the time to heal without worrying about anything else.”

Her lower lip trembled, and he realized his reassurances had only succeeded in breaking through the brittle wall of bravado she’d been putting up. Before he could say anything more, she threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest, her voice muffled but heartfelt. “I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Alec’s arms hovered awkwardly at his sides, unsure of what to do. This level of intimacy, while utterly innocent on her part, was foreign to him. He wasn’t exactly the hugging type. But the way she clung to him, as though he were some kind of lifeline... It tugged at something deep in him, something he hadn’t felt in years—a fierce, protective instinct.

He tentatively placed his hands on her back, patting her lightly as if she were a fragile creature that might shatter under the wrong touch. “It’s okay, Molly,” he said awkwardly. “You don’t need to... uh, cry.”

She sniffled, pulling back just enough to look up at him, her wide eyes still glistening with unshed tears. “I’m not crying,” she protested, her voice defiant despite the evidence to the contrary. “I’m just… leaking gratitude.”

Alec’s lips twitched, and before he could stop himself, he let out a soft chuckle. “Leaking gratitude, huh? I’ll have to remember that one.”

Molly gave him a weak smile, the tension in her small frame easing as some of her natural playfulness returned. But then, as if realizing just how tightly she was still clinging to him, she quickly let go, stepping back and wringing her hands nervously.

“Sorry,” she muttered, her gaze darting anywhere but at him. “I didn’t mean to get all, um, touchy-feely. And... Did I say I love you? I meant... I like you! A lot! I mean, not... like that—just in a ‘you’re-so-nice’ way, and—” She cut herself off, groaning and burying her face in her hands. “Please stop me from talking.”

Alec couldn’t help but smile now, genuinely amused by her babbling. “You’re doing fine, Molly,” he said, his voice softer, warmer. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

She peeked at him through her fingers, her cheeks burning with a blush that stretched all the way to her ears. “You must think I’m crazy.”

“I think,” he said, leaning back against the dressing table and crossing his arms, “that you’re just a little... frazzled. Understandably so. But you’re doing fine.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, but her eyes still flickered with uncertainty. “You mean that?”

He gave her a nod, his gaze steady. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. Now listen—today’s Sunday. I’m taking the day off, and I thought we could go to the mall. You need new clothes, and probably some shoes too.”

Her eyes lit up instantly, the shift in her demeanor so quick and complete that Alec was almost caught off guard. “Really? I mean, like, really really?” she asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

“Yes, really,” he confirmed with a small chuckle. “But that’s not going to happen until you…” He gestured toward the bathroom. “Take a shower.”

“Right! Yes! Of course!” she exclaimed, practically leaping toward the door to the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in no time!”

As she disappeared through the doorway, Alec shook his head, a faint smile lingering on his lips. He hadn’t been sure what to make of her when she’d first come into his life—barely conscious and bruised, her mysterious past trailing behind her like an ominous shadow. But now, as he listened to the sound of water running, her bubbly energy bouncing off the walls even when she wasn’t in the room, he realized something unexpected:

He didn’t mind having her around.

“She’s... playful,” he murmured to himself, crossing his arms as his eyes flicked toward the bathroom door. A strange, unfamiliar warmth unfurled in his chest as his lips quirked upward, his next words spoken softly, as though to no one in particular:

“Playful but cute.”

And with that, he pushed off the table, his movements purposeful and brisk as he prepared for yet another day where Molly Nightfell, in all her chaotic and endearing glory, was undoubtedly going to turn his carefully ordered life upside down.