Us against the world

Chapter three

"Perhaps, my lady, I would like you to stay here a while longer," Derek said, his tone calm yet firm. "I think it’s safer this way. If you go back to your residence, there’s a chance they’ll come for you again. So, I don’t believe it’s wise for you to leave. It’s better for you to stay here, just for the meantime."

"You want me to stay here with you? Honestly I'm not comfortable with the idea." I met his gaze, feeling frustrated. "Do you know me? I've asked you before, and I’ll say it again. Do you know me?"

He looked away, his face unreadable. "I told you, it’s none of your business. Just relax and don’t stress me out," he replied sharply before walking off to his room.

I felt my frustration rising. What was going on? Hours ago, I’d been surrounded by strangers who shot at me, claiming they were following their boss’s orders. Now, here I was with another stranger, who insisted I stay. Why? I didn’t want to stay, but I felt trapped, conflicted between the fear of returning to a bleak life without a job and the uncertainty of staying here. My mother had always warned me never to linger around strangers. But this wasn’t exactly my choice; they had me cornered.

"You should take a shower," a woman’s voice interrupted my thoughts. I turned, startled, to see a woman standing by the doorway.

"Shower?" I echoed.

"Yes, a shower," she replied, nodding.

I glanced down at my bruises and cuts, the pain flaring up with every slight movement. "I don’t think I have the strength… I’m covered in bruises, and it hurts to move."

She gestured toward the bathroom, her gaze steady, encouraging. Slowly, I dragged my feet to the bathroom, surprised by how stunning it was. The room was magnificent, with warm, cinnamon-scented water mixed with floral fragrances that filled the air.

I carefully undressed and slipped into the warm water, letting it soothe my aching body.

Two women entered the bathroom. I was startled at first, but their gentle gestures told me they were here to help. I didn’t protest—I needed their assistance. They combed my hair, washed my feet, and helped me feel human again. By the time they finished, I looked in the mirror and barely recognized myself. I felt like a transformed version of me, almost… pretty. A strange thrill ran through me. Somehow, I felt like I wanted to stay here. Part of me didn’t want to leave this place. I wanted to know more about Derek Zeke, to understand who he really was. Something in his eyes felt familiar, like a memory I couldn’t quite place.

I considered starting a conversation with one of the maids, but they seemed focused on their tasks, as though they’d been instructed not to speak to me. After they left, I stepped out of the bathroom and made my way to the sitting room, feeling refreshed despite the lingering pain of my bruises and wounds. I felt calm, grounded.

When Derek entered the room, I was speechless. He approached me, his gaze steady, and then, to my surprise, he said my name softly. “You smell nice, Chelyn.”

"Me? I smell nice? Um, thank you," I stammered, instantly feeling foolish. I couldn’t look him in the eye, my nerves getting the better of me. Why was he standing so close? The thought echoed in my mind, over and over.

“Do you… do you wish to know why I brought you here?” he asked, his voice low.

"Yes, I want to know. I’d like to know why you brought me here," I said, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "Why did you bring me to your home?

He smiled, taking a step forward, and leaned close to my ear, his voice a whisper. "What if we have a little fun tonight?"

"Fun? What kind of fun?" I replied, snorting as I stepped back.

"You’ll find out when you’re ready," he chuckled.

“Why did you bring me here?” I repeated.

"How about I let you figure that out on your own?" he said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"But didn’t you say you saved me because of that strange man? I thought you were protecting me from him."

"Oh, dear, you’re so gullible," he replied, his tone almost mocking. "I didn’t do it because of him. I did it for myself, for reasons I won’t reveal—not yet. But one day, you’ll know."

"Fine, If you don’t want to tell me, that’s your choice. I’d like to be alone, then. Where am I sleeping?"

"You’ll stay in the same room with me," he said casually.

"What? Are you out of your mind? This is a massive house with plenty of rooms!" I protested.

"Ah, so you’d like one of my many rooms? How greedy of you," he teased, smirking. "Fine. You can have a room of your own."

I was stunned, completely thrown off balance by his attitude. He was making no sense, and every time I tried to piece together what was happening, his words only blurred things further. "You know what? It doesn’t matter," I mumbled, realizing he wasn’t going to give me any real answers.

Then, unexpectedly, he took my hand. I didn’t resist. Something in his touch felt magnetic, almost calming, and I allowed him to lead me down the staircase, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and curiosity.

As we walked down the hallway toward another room, Derek suddenly turned and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into an abrupt hug. I was taken aback, completely surprised. This powerful man—usually so composed—held me close, his breathing heavy, tightening his embrace with each breath.

"Are you okay? Derek, are you alright?" I whispered, unsure of what to do. He didn’t respond, only held me in silence, his hug saying more than words could. I let myself relax in his arms, feeling a strange sense of comfort.

Finally, he released me and opened the door to a room. "This is where you’ll sleep tonight," he said, stepping back to let me in.

I gasped as I took in the room. It was enormous, like a whole apartment on its own. "This… this is one room? It’s like a house!" I marveled, my eyes widening.

Derek chuckled. "Didn’t you ask for a different room? Or have you changed your mind? Do you still want to stay with me?"

"Or… are you thinking about having fun with me?" I teased, remembering his earlier comment.

"Oh my god, you and that word—‘fun’!" He rolled his eyes, smirking. "What kind of fun do you mean?"

I laughed nervously, trying to hide my curiosity. "Well, you’re the one who mentioned it, so… you tell me."

He leaned in close, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Maybe I’ll show you the kind of fun I mean… tomorrow,"

"Alright then. Goodnight, Derek." I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me, and took a deep breath. I could still feel his presence on the other side, lingering, as if he hadn’t quite left yet. Quickly, I locked the door and tried to steady my racing heart.

***

The next day, I woke up surprised to find myself still here. I yawned and stretched, feeling more comfortable than I had in years. For the first time in two years, I’d slept like a baby. As I stood up, I was shocked—my body felt… healed. What happened? Just yesterday, I was bruised and broken from the accident, barely able to move. But now, it was as if all my wounds had vanished.

I went to the mirror and looked down at my feet. The bruises were gone, my skin smooth and unmarked. This was a miracle. I felt energized, like a new person. I brushed my hair, took a shower, and filled the bath with that same warm, cinnamon-and-floral-scented water, savoring every moment.

By the time I checked the clock, it was already 11 a.m. I’d slept nearly the whole morning—a luxury I hadn’t allowed myself in years. It felt strange yet wonderful to wake up this late, my mind finally at rest.

I thought about Derek and realized I hadn’t been thinking of him the whole night. I needed to find him, but everyone else around here acted as if I didn’t exist. They ignored me, every single one of them, like wolves circling in silence. I felt a pang of worry but tried to brush it off.

I took a deep breath, peeking outside. I’d been warned not to, told about the mysterious man in black who seemed to lurk on the edges of my memory. I’d only seen fragments of him—his intense eyes, his face half-shrouded in darkness. But he was one of the most striking figures I’d ever seen, and for some reason, he was after me. Why did everyone keep insisting I was in danger?

Then, I heard my name. I turned and smiled, relieved to see Derek, though he looked different—his eyes downcast, almost weak. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I noticed the faint exhaustion on his face, though he tried to mask it.

“Good morning, Derek,” I greeted him. “Thank you for letting me stay last night. I suppose I’ll be leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, you’ll be leaving,” he replied.

A pang of disappointment settled in my chest. I’d secretly hoped to stay a bit longer. I didn’t want to go. Why did I have to ask him about leaving in the first place?