Under One Roof

This Time, I Won’t Let Him Walk Away

The loud sound of my alarm rang, jolting me awake instantly.

I didn’t even let it ring a second time before I sat up.

Honestly, I’m not that type of person. I usually snooze it at least three or four times before getting out of bed.

But not today.

The first ring had barely sounded before I was already up.

I barely slept last night.

After my mom delivered the news I first thought was bad news.

An opportunity.

One that could bring me closer to him.

Wyatt.

I pushed myself up immediately.

For most people, waking up at 4 a.m. for an 8 30 class would be crazy.

Normally it would be for me too.

But not today.

Normally, I wake up around 7 a.m., dragging myself out of bed at the last minute.

But today…

I had no time to waste.

Not when I was stepping into his territory.

Not when I needed him to notice me.

I threw the covers aside and stepped out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor.

My head was still heavy, still begging for sleep, but I didn’t hesitate.

I didn’t even consider it.

Because the only thing on my mind was this

How to use this chance.

How to get closer to him.

For now, anything else could wait.

I just needed to get my hands on him.

I stood up, switched on the light, and walked straight to the mirror, studying my face carefully.

No acne.

Good.

Even after barely sleeping last night, I still escaped overnight breakouts or a puffy face.

At least I didn’t have to deal with that.

“Aren’t you lucky, Aria,” I whispered to myself, staring at my clear, soft skin in the mirror. “Even the gods are helping you.”

I leaned a little closer, still inspecting myself, when something caught my attention.

A faint red mark on my neck.

My fingers slowly rose to it and that was when it fully hit me.

It was from the way he had gripped my neck last night.

I let my fingers hover over it lightly, and just like that, everything came rushing back.

His hand wrapped tightly around my neck.

The anger in his eyes.

The way he pinned me against the wall, demanding answers.

His voice, sharp, dangerous, dominant.

Then my favorite part.

The towel.

The way it slipped.

The way his eyes dropped instantly, following it like he couldn’t stop himself.

That look on his face.

And then the slap.

And after that, the unexpected apology.

My lips curled into a slow smile without me even realizing it.

“So intense,” I whispered softly, almost breathless. “So dominant… I love it.”

I froze immediately.

The moment those words left my mouth.

My eyes widened slightly at my reflection.

What am I saying?

I blinked fast and shook my head, like I could physically throw the thought out of my mind.

“Aria, you’re a bad girl…” I muttered, a smile still lingering on my lips as my gaze dropped back to the mark on my neck. “You won’t even spare your own stepbrother.”

I held the mark for a second longer, then turned away toward the bathroom.

But even as I walked

I was still smiling.

I turned on the tap and let the cold water run before splashing my face.

The shock pulled me back into reality.

A little.

But not enough to erase him.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

The mark was still there.

Faint but visible.

My fingers rose slowly to it.

“Let’s make more marks like this,” I whispered to myself with a small smile.

Not as a warning.

But as motivation.

I brushed my teeth slowly, every movement controlled like I was preparing for something important.

Because I was.

I slipped into the bath, letting the water swallow me slowly.

And I stayed there longer than I should have.

Too long.

As if the water could wash away everything that wasn’t him.

When I finally stepped out, my fingers were slightly wrinkled from the water, but I didn’t care.

I dried myself and walked straight to my wardrobe.

I stood in front of my wardrobe, silent, after opening it.

But nothing in there felt right.

Some clothes looked too simple.

Some were too loud.

Some too careless for this.

Some didn’t fit the version of myself I needed today.

I needed something different.

Something that didn’t scream for attention.

But still made people look twice.

My fingers moved through the clothes slowly until I stopped.

There.

I pulled it out slowly.

“Perfect,” I whispered.

A long black maxi skirt.

And a fitted black turtleneck crop sweater.

My fingers lingered on the fabric for a moment.

It wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t flashy.

But it spoke in silence.

Exactly what I needed.

And the turtleneck.

Perfect for hiding that faint mark he left on my neck.

I held it against myself briefly, studying it like it already belonged to me.

Then I smiled faintly.

“Exactly what I need,” I murmured.

Not too bright to announce my intention.

Not too revealing to look careless.

Not too expensive to scream for attention.

But rich enough that no one could question it.

And yet

It still shaped everything.

My waist.

My figure.

My curves, one of the best features I inherited from my mom, undeniable, impossible to ignore.

I exhaled slowly.

This wasn’t just an outfit.

It was perfect.

This outfit I had barely worn before.

It was a gift from my naughty cousin on my eighteenth birthday, someone who always said I dressed like I was hiding.

Back then, I didn’t care for it.

It felt too intentional.

Too bold in its silence.

So I left it hanging untouched.

Until today.

Now it felt like it had been waiting for this exact moment.

I changed into it slowly.

Then I stood in front of the mirror again.

The difference was immediate.

It did exactly what I wanted it to do.

Perfectly.

My hair fell naturally down my back, soft, dark, catching the light in a way that made it look effortless even when it wasn’t.

I ran my fingers through it slowly, then adjusted it, parting it slightly to one side and securing a small clip that shaped my face just enough.

Not overly styled.

Just controlled.

Just intentional.

Just dangerously subtle.

My makeup followed the same rule.

Light.

Almost invisible.

A touch of freshness on my skin.

Nothing heavy.

Nothing loud.

Just enough to look awake, alive, and quietly irresistible.

I tilted my head slightly, studying my reflection.

This version of me didn’t ask to be noticed.

But she would be.

That much I knew.

A slow smile formed on my lips.

“Let’s see,” I murmured, adjusting my collar slightly.

“If this won’t melt a bit of your cold heart.”

I grabbed my bag and glanced at the clock.

It was already 6 00 a.m.

Perfect.

Everything was going exactly how I wanted.

And I stepped out.

The hallway felt different than what I expected.

Everywhere was already busy, alive, that I almost doubted if my time was too slow.

From the moment I stepped into the hallway, everything felt alive, maids in crisp uniforms moving in a quiet, professional rhythm, polishing surfaces, arranging flowers, cleaning corners that already looked perfect to me.

“Good morning, ma’am,” one of them greeted softly, bowing slightly as I passed.

I hesitated for half a second.

Then returned it awkwardly.

“Morning, ma…” I replied slowly, bowing back to her. Everything still felt strange.

Still not used to being called that.

Still not used to this life.

I kept walking.

Another greeting followed.

Then another.

“Good morning, ma’am.”

“Good morning, ma’am.”

It echoed softly through the hall like a routine I had suddenly been dropped into.

I nodded each time, unsure how to properly exist in it, sometimes giving a small bow back without even thinking.

Someone stepped forward, offering to carry my bag.

I instinctively shook my head.

“No… I’m fine,” I said quickly, clutching it closer to myself.

I wasn’t there yet.

And looking at it, I don’t think I will be anytime soon.

Everything around me still felt unreal.

Too clean.

Too polished.

Too expensive, nothing like the life I had lived before.

The deeper I walked, the more the house revealed itself, looking even more luxurious than what I saw yesterday evening.

The way the crystal lights shone only revealed more of the beauty and expense of the house.

And the marble floors, how they gleamed, looked different under artificial light than they did in daylight.

“Wow… it’s out of my world,” I couldn’t help but whisper to myself as I walked through it.

I passed another corner and saw them again, more maids, moving in perfect order, as if the entire mansion ran on invisible control.

I began to wonder how rich people never got tired of this kind of structured life, because just looking at it was already overwhelming.

“Ma’am, breakfast will be ready shortly,” someone said politely from behind me.

I slowed slightly.

“Thank you… I’ll pass,” I replied softly. “I need to go somewhere early.”

They nodded immediately and stepped aside.

No questions.

No hesitation.

Just obedience.

That alone made my chest tighten.

I continued walking until I finally reached the outer doors.

A staff member opened it for me without a sound.

And the moment I stepped outside

The world changed again.

The compound stretched wide and immaculate.

Luxury cars lined perfectly along the driveway, each one shining under the morning light like they had been polished overnight.

Black, silver, sleek machines that looked too expensive to even touch.

I frowned slightly, staring at them.

Who even cleans cars this early?

No one answered my thoughts.

A driver stood nearby.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“Morning,” I replied quickly, already getting tired of the greetings.

I moved forward again, stepping outside the gate, and the air finally changed.

Less heavy.

Less controlled.

I stopped just beyond it, taking a small breath for the first time that morning.

It felt like freedom.

Freedom from the perfection of that house.

I stayed just beyond the gate, my eyes fixed on the driveway.

Waiting.

Each second dragged, heavy and slow, my grip tightening around my bag as sleep tugged at my eyes and my legs ached from standing.

But I didn’t leave.

I couldn’t.

Not when I knew he would drive out any moment.

Not when this might be my only perfect chance.

At some point, my pulse began to pick up, anticipation and doubt curling low in my chest as the morning grew brighter.

Come on…

I held my breath, a small, dangerous smile forming on my lips.

“There’s nothing to doubt,” I whispered to myself. “He’ll come out… this is his only way out,” I assured myself.