Chapter 4
1171 Words
Michael stood and broke the tense silence with a calm but commanding tone. “Go take a shower.”
Hazel froze. His words, though ordinary, struck her like a bolt of lightning. Her cheeks burned, and she quickly lowered her gaze, clutching the damp fabric of her dress. Without another word, she turned and hurried out, her heart racing.
The cold rain had soaked her earlier, leaving her clothes clinging uncomfortably to her skin. Now, standing under the hot shower, the warm water cascaded over her, easing the chill in her bones but failing to calm her chaotic thoughts.
Hazel’s mind was a storm of its own. **What did he mean by that? What will he do next?** Her heart pounded louder with every question. She’d never been alone in such close proximity with a man before—especially one like Michael, whose presence felt like a wildfire in an otherwise cold, dark night.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, her hair still damp and her nerves frayed, the room was empty. Hazel blinked in surprise, a mixture of relief and disappointment flooding her chest. **He left.**
She exhaled shakily, letting her tense shoulders drop. **Perhaps he doesn’t want to stay near me.** The thought stung more than she expected. Did he think she was trying to seduce him earlier, undressing out of desperation to prove her innocence? She bit her lip. **If that’s what he believes, he must truly loathe me.**
Pushing aside her turbulent emotions, Hazel set about making the bed on the floor for herself. The proper thing to do was to give Michael the bed. She had no intention of further provoking his disdain.
---
Late into the night, Hazel lay wide awake on the cold floor, staring at the cracked ceiling. Her body was still, but her mind churned.
**It’s been a year.**
A year since the accident that claimed her parents’ lives. The memory hit her like a crashing wave, and tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them.
That stormy night played vividly in her mind.
The rain had been relentless, hammering against the car windows as they made their way back from the village. Her father had struggled to control the steering wheel, his knuckles white as the brakes failed, sending the car careening into the river.
The icy water surged in, swallowing the vehicle whole. Her mother’s desperate cries, her father’s frantic instructions—they all blurred together. Hazel’s body trembled as the memory clawed at her. She’d barely escaped through the sunroof, pushed out by her father’s strong hands.
“Hold on to something!” he’d shouted. Those were his last words before the currents dragged him under.
Hazel had clung to a broken tree branch, her fingers numb, her voice hoarse as she screamed for help. “Please… someone… help me!”
No one answered.
Her strength waned, and as her grip faltered, she sank into the frigid depths. The cold was merciless, stealing her breath, numbing her limbs. She was drowning—sinking deeper and deeper, the river consuming her.
Then, a powerful arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her from the watery abyss.
Through the haze of rain and tears, she caught a fleeting glimpse of her savior: a tall figure clad in black combat gear, his face obscured. His voice, deep and steady, pierced through the chaos.
“You’re safe now. I won’t let you go.”
Those words had been her lifeline.
Hazel’s eyes fluttered open, tears streaking down her cheeks as the memory faded. She sat up abruptly, hugging her knees. Her savior had vanished as mysteriously as he’d appeared. She never learned his name or saw his face clearly. **Who was he? Why did he save me?**
---
Meanwhile, in the cemetery outside the city, the air was heavy with rain and silence. A row of sleek black cars stood still under the gloom.
Micheal stood by one of the cars, his sharp profile illuminated by the faint glow of a streetlamp. He accepted a phone from Uncle Gavin, the elderly butler who hovered anxiously beside him.
“President Donovan is on the line,” Gavin informed him, bowing slightly.
Micheal’s jaw tightened as he took the phone.
Before he could speak, a harsh voice exploded from the other end. “Lucas! You’ve been away from Sky City for six months. When are you coming back?”
His grip on the phone tightened. “Don’t call me that,” he said coldly. “My name is Micheal now.”
“Lucas or Micheal, I’m still your father!” Donovan thundered. “You’ve turned your back on this family long enough. Your grandmother is gravely ill. And as for your marriage—”
Micheal cut him off sharply. “You can save the lecture. When you chose your mistress over my mother, you lost the right to dictate my life. If you want me back in Sky City, remove my name from the family tree. Until then, I’ll send you money—two million should suffice for now.”
Before his father could respond, Micheal ended the call. The tension in his posture softened, but his eyes remained dark.
“Young Master,” Gavin hesitated, “shouldn’t you return? The Donovan Family has been discussing your engagement...”
Micheal’s gaze flicked toward him, silencing the old man instantly.
---
Hours later, Micheal returned to the bungalow. The sight of Hazel sleeping on the floor stopped him in his tracks. Her frail figure looked even smaller against the cold, hard tiles.
His jaw clenched. **Stubborn woman.**
Without a word, he bent down and scooped her up. She stirred, her lashes fluttering briefly before settling again. Micheal carried her to the bed and gently laid her down, but as he straightened, her arm shot out, looping around his neck.
He froze.
Hazel murmured something incoherent, her fingers clutching at his shirt as though she were clinging to a dream. Her leg draped over his waist, her body seeking warmth instinctively.
Micheal’s breath hitched as her soft form pressed against him. A spark of heat flared in his chest, surprising him. He immediately brushed it aside, shifting her limbs carefully.
But as he pulled away, her grip tightened, and she whispered through her sleep, “Don’t leave me…”
Micheal’s heart thudded. The vulnerability in her voice pierced through his carefully maintained detachment. For the first time in years, he hesitated.
After a long moment, he pulled the covers over her and sat at the edge of the bed, staring out into the rain-soaked night.
**I don’t have time for this. She’s not part of my plan.**
Yet, as Hazel shifted again, nestling into the space where his warmth lingered, Micheal felt something stir deep within him. A protective instinct he thought he’d long buried.
He let out a soft sigh. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he muttered under his breath, before finally lying down beside her, keeping a careful distance.
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- Writer
