Chapter4
699 Words
Zara finished clearing the breakfast plates, her hands still a little shaky. She kept replaying the moment Alexander walked in on her. The way his eyes had stayed on her body for that long second. The way he hadn’t apologized. Just gave an order and left.
She told herself it was an accident. He didn’t care. He never cared about anything except control.
She wiped down the counters and started preparing lunch. Simple grilled chicken and vegetables. Nothing that would remind him of anything. She moved fast, trying to stay busy so she wouldn’t think about the towel, the exposed skin, the way her n*****s had been visible through the thin fabric.
Alexander stayed in his study most of the morning. When he finally came out for lunch, he sat at the dining table without a word. Zara placed the plate in front of him and stepped back, keeping her eyes down.
He ate quietly. Halfway through, he spoke.
“From now on, you knock before entering any room that isn’t the kitchen or your own,” he said, voice flat.
Zara nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”
She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell him he should have knocked too. But the salary flashed in her mind — the money that was keeping the debt collectors away. So she swallowed it.
Alexander took another bite. He didn’t look at her. But his mind kept flashing back to the image: her slim waist, the curve of her hips, the round soft perky boobs that were moderate in size, smooth and succulent. The towel barely holding, her n*****s clearly visible. The shaved clean v****a.
He hated that the picture wouldn’t leave his head.
He finished eating and stood up. As he walked past her, he stopped for a moment. Close enough that she could feel the heat from his body.
“Make sure dinner is ready at seven,” he said. Then he continued to his study and closed the door.
Zara let out a long breath. She cleaned the table and went back to the kitchen. Her heart was still beating too fast. She hated how aware she was of him now. Hated that one stupid moment had made everything feel different.
Later that afternoon, she was dusting the living area when she heard voices from the hallway. A woman’s laugh. Then Alexander’s low, cold voice.
Zara froze. She moved closer to the corner, just enough to see.
A tall, beautiful woman in a tight red dress was standing near the entrance. Alexander handed her an envelope. The woman smiled, leaned in like she was going to kiss his cheek, but he stepped back sharply, face blank.
“No need,” he said. “You can leave now.”
The woman looked surprised but took the envelope and walked out without another word.
Zara quickly went back to dusting, pretending she hadn’t seen anything. Her stomach twisted. So that was how it was. Women came and went. Paid and dismissed?.
She kept working.
That evening, she served dinner at exactly seven. Alexander ate in silence again. When he was done, he stood up and looked at her for the first time since morning.
“Tomorrow, clean the east wing. But stay out of the locked rooms.”
Zara nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He walked away. But as he reached the hallway, he paused and glanced back at her for a second.
Zara didn’t notice. She was already thinking about the east wing and what she might find there. She finished clearing the table and started on the dishes.
While wiping down the shelves in the living area later, her cloth caught on something. A small leather-bound book fell to the floor. She picked it up. It looked old, well-used. The title was in gold lettering: The Art of Control.
She flipped it open. Inside the front cover, in neat handwriting, was a name: Elena.
Zara stared at the name for a long moment. Who was Elena? And why did Alexander keep this book so close?
“Is this his diary?” she wondered confused
She quickly put it back exactly where she found it, heart racing.
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