Chapter Eight
1423 Words
She straightened her shoulders in response, “I said what I said,” she replied, her voice softening. Realizing she had shouted, she added, “Mr. Morano.” She cringed inwardly, knowing the sudden use of his first name Derek sounded out of place, even if he had told her to call him Derek multiple times.
For a moment, Derek just stood there, unmoving. Then, as if regaining his composure, he said flatly, “Don’t ever raise your voice at me again.” Without another word, he turned sharply and limped toward the building.
Annabelle stood frozen for a second, her heart pounding. “What just happened? Haven’t I done too much?” she whispered to herself before hurrying to follow him.
Derek, on the other hand, was lost in thought as he walked to the front desk. “Did she just shout at me?” he wondered, his expression still calm but his mind rumbled. “I thought she was scared of me. Or maybe just an i***t who followed orders without question. What was that?”
His thoughts were interrupted when he felt her presence beside him. “Be careful,” she said, her voice gentler now. She grabbed his arm instinctively as they approached a short staircase. “Here, let me help you,” she added, guiding him.
For a moment, he almost let himself enjoy it—the warmth of her hand, the way she genuinely wanted to help. But then he stiffened. He couldn’t let her think he was weak, not even for a second.
“I don’t need your help,” he said coldly, pulling his arm from her grip just as Sebastian, his driver, appeared and stepped in to guide him instead.
Annabelle huffed, biting back a sharp retort. Instead, she trailed behind them, her fists clenched. She wouldn’t let him see how much his coldness stung. But even as she followed, she noticed a subtle hesitation in his step. “He’s not as unaffected as he wants me to think,” she thought, hiding a small smirk.
“Oh, my, my! To what do we owe this honor?” A middle-aged man in a sharp, tailored suit called out the moment he saw Derek walk in. His tone was a mix of respect and nervousness as he hurried to greet him. “Welcome, sir,” he added, rushing to Derek’s side like his life depended on it. Without waiting for a reply, he began guiding Derek toward an office just a few steps away from the entrance.
Annabelle followed behind, trying to keep up. Her mind raced as she observed the man’s eagerness. “Of course, they’re bending over backward for him. The man’s swimming in money,” she thought with an eye roll.
Her irritation grew as hushed whispers from the nearby female staff reached her ears.
“If he weren’t blind—and, you know, had that whole monster reputation—I’d have made my move ages ago,” one woman whispered to her friend, her eyes lingering on Derek.
“Right? But honestly, I don’t even care about all that. Have you seen him in those dark sunglasses?” the other replied with a giggle.
Annabelle’s jaw tightened, and she clenched her fists. “Menace,” she thought bitterly, the word bursting into her mind uninvited.
“Why do I care what they think about him?” she scolded herself silently. “It’s none of my business.”
Yet, despite her inner protests, an unfamiliar heat prickled her chest. She quickened her pace to catch up with Derek.
When they reached the office, Annabelle’s eyes darted around, taking in the lavish space. Then it hit her. Derek wasn’t just a customer here. He owned the building—and likely the entire company.
“Whoa! What do I even know about the man I’m married to?” she thought, her unease growing.
Derek’s voice snapped her back to reality. “Nothing seen here leaves this building. Not who I came with or anything else,” he said sharply to the man, his tone brooking no argument. Then he added, “And bring the best outfits for her.”
“Yes, sir!” the man replied, disappearing to carry out the orders.
Annabelle, meanwhile, couldn’t shake a thought. “Why is he picking out clothes for me? He can’t even see what I’ll look like in them.”
“Come here,” Derek’s deep voice pulled her from her spiraling thoughts.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as if trying to read her.
Annabelle hesitated, fumbling with her words. “Are you… used to not seeing anything?” she finally asked, her voice soft but curious.
Derek smirked faintly. “You know—”
Before he could finish, the middle-aged man returned, interrupting him. “Sir, she can come with me now. Our stylists are ready to assist her.”
Annabelle perked up a little, unable to hide her excitement. She’d vowed not to accept gifts from Derek, but the thought of being dressed up tugged at a happy memory of her childhood, when Martha used to dress her up like a princess.
“I’ll be back,” she said quickly, following the man out of the office.
As soon as she left, Derek turned to Sebastian, his driver and confidant, who had been silently standing by his side.
“What do you think about her?” Derek asked abruptly.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, surprised but not startled. These occasional personal questions from his boss were rare but not unheard of. “She confuses me,” Derek added before Sebastian could respond.
Sebastian chuckled lightly. “I think she’s a good woman who cares about you.”
Derek stiffened. “Cares about me?” he repeated in his head, scoffing at the notion. “No one cares about me, and certainly not her. She’s practically a stranger,” he muttered under his breath, dismissing Sebastian’s words.
“You don’t know what you’re saying, Seb,” Derek said flatly, shaking his head.
Before Sebastian could reply, the curtain to the dressing room opened.
“Boss,” Sebastian whispered, leaning slightly closer. “She’s… wow. She’s stunning."
Derek turned his head, his jaw tightening as he looked up. There she was—Annabelle. The emerald gown she wore hugged her figure perfectly, highlighting her pale skin and the graceful curve of her hips. For a moment, he forgot himself, and wished he could come clean about his sight and appreciate who he's staring at.
The way the emerald gown accentuated her hips, and her pale skin, was a beauty to behold.
His mind drifted. He imagined her under the soft glow of moonlight, laughing, carefree. The faint sound of music played in his head. She twirled in that same gown, reaching out to him with a teasing smile. “You’re mine forever,” she said in his mind, her voice soft, yet certain.
“You are—” Derek began to say aloud, but a firm hand on his shoulder jolted him back to reality.
“Boss,” Sebastian said, his voice breaking through Derek’s thoughts. “She’s ready.”
Derek blinked, his face instantly shifting to its usual cold expression. “What was I thinking just now?” he muttered to himself. A dry chuckle escaped his lips. “Bullshit,” he added under his breath. “That’s never happening.”
"What do you think?" Annabelle voice came out without thinking too much as she loves the way she looks, but she immediately took her words back realizing that meant as an insult to her husband.
He didn't respond, but straightened, focusing his attention back on the middle-aged man.
“Pack more clothes like whatever she's wearing, and send it to my house.” he said curtly."
He turned back to Annabelle, and gestured briskly. “We’re leaving.”
Annabelle hesitated for a moment, searching his expression for any sign of acknowledgment. She’d caught the way he was lost in thoughts earlier—brief, but enough to make her heart flutter. But now, his expression was back to its usual indifference.
She forced a smile, holding her head high as they walked side by side out of the company.
At the car, Sebastian helped Derek into his seat, then turned to Annabelle, his tone quieter this time.
“You look so so beautiful,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, before opening the door for her.
- Writer
