Chapter Five
1162 Words
Amelia’s POV
“Sir, I don’t feel like eating peanuts,” I tried to argue, though my voice was little more than a whisper.
“But those are , Cynthia?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm that made my heart jump.
I couldn’t hold his gaze. My eyes darted to the floor, to my trembling hands, anywhere but his piercing stare.
“Is there something, you would like to say to me wife?”
My heart skipped a beat.
“Why are your cheeks red, it’s making my c**k hard,” he said casually. My head jerked up in shock, what kind of p*****t is this I wondered.
“Why are you looking at me like that Cynthia.”
The way he called my sister’s name made my stomach twist. Who the hell was this man? One moment he was acting like he had known the truth, then he would switch to something else.
What does he even take me for?
“I wasn’t staring at you.” I lied averting my gaze quickly.
A dark smile tugged at his lips. “I should have planted a bullet in your skull. One in your father’s eyes, and another in your mother’s heart for your father’s Sins. But you…” His eyes flickered with something I couldn’t name. “…you’re one interesting woman, little wife.”
A shiver ran through me.
He closed the distance slowly, like a predator savoring its prey, and tilted my chin up until my eyes met his.
“You’re mine now, kitten,” he murmured, before letting go.
He picked up the peanuts and began munching on them like he hadn’t just threatened my entire existence.
My ice cream sat forgotten, melted into a sweet mess. My appetite vanished, and with it, my fragile courage.
“Thank you, sir,” I muttered, though he didn’t even acknowledge me. I turned away, pulled the blanket over myself, and forced my eyes shut. Sleep eventually dragged me under.
I woke in the middle of the night, the urge to pee pulling me from my dreams. But the moment I shifted, I froze. Strong arms were wrapped tightly around me.
My breath caught as I turned my head. His face was inches from mine, his expression relaxed in slumber. God… how could someone look so devastatingly handsome even in sleep?
For a reckless second, I wanted to press my lips to his. I forced the thought down and settled back into the bed, snuggling deeper into his arms despite myself.
And before I knew it, sleep reclaimed me.
Morning light spilled across the room, dragging me out of dreamland. I yawned and stretched, arms reaching wide, legs pushing against the sheets. Blinking, I glanced around. The bed was empty. I was alone.
Where does he always go? I wondered, slipping into the bathroom before my bladder burst.
When I came out, I froze. He was there. Just standing and Watching my every move.
He had this way of appearing and disappearing like a shadow. Sometimes I wondered if he was a ghost.
“G–Good morning, sir,” I stammered, my voice cracking.
His gaze pinned me in place, sharp and unrelenting, like he could strip me down to my very soul. My legs trembled, and for a wild moment I thought I might actually wet myself under the weight of those dark eyes.
After what felt like forever, he finally spoke. “Go back inside and bathe, wife. We are going out.”
So he hadn’t forgotten. The outing. My chest tightened. Is it that important? Am I even safe with him?
“O–Okay, sir,” I muttered quickly, ducking my head before retreating into the bathroom again.
Warm water rushed over me, easing the knots in my chest. I picked up the soap rack, only to freeze. Idole Papaya. My soap.
But I hadn’t packed any.
My fingers tightened around it. How does he even know the brand I use? What else does he know about me?
A shiver trailed down my spine. I scrubbed myself in silence, pushing away the unease that threatened to consume me.
By the time I finished and stepped out, the room was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of chicken and chips. My stomach betrayed me with a loud growl, and I clutched it, cheeks heating.
I risked a glance at him.
He was seated, eyes glued to his laptop, his expression unreadable. He hadn’t looked up. Relief washed over me, and I exhaled softly, slipping further into the room.
I walked sluggishly to the wardrobe and pulled out a simple flare dress that stopped at my knees.
Slowly, I let my towel slip, picked up my body lotion, and smoothed it across my skin, trying to calm my nerves. When I slipped into the dress, it hugged me just right. My stomach grumbled again, reminding me of the meal waiting at the table.
The moment I sat down and took a bite, a hum escaped my lips. The food was delicious, and tantalizing. For a brief moment, it was easy to forget everything else.
When I was done, I pushed the tray aside. “I’m done, sir,” I said quietly.
He closed his laptop with a snap, his deep voice filling the room. “Let’s go.”
I hurried into my heels and followed him.
“Morning, My Lady,” the maids chorused as I passed. Their respectful tone made me straighten my back. I waved with a smile, though a sinking weight pressed at my stomach.
Outside, he stood near a sleek black Range Rover. My eyes widened. So this is the kind of car I get to ride in? For a fleeting second, I thought, Maybe marrying a rich mafia billionaire isn’t the worst idea in the world.
He opened the door for me, and I slid inside quickly. He joined me on the other side, and the driver pulled away.
The city blurred by, tall skyscrapers and glass towers gleaming under the sun. I couldn’t help stealing glances at him every now and then, but he remained glued to his phone, his expression unreadable.
When the car finally slowed, my breath caught.
The building before me was massive, its glass-and-marble design glittering in the sunlight like a jewel. Bold silver letters gleamed across the front:
DE RUSELLA STEEL COMPANY
His company? My heart thudded. But why am I here?
Justin stood beside me, silent, letting me take it all in.
“Let’s go, wife,” he said at last.
Inside, workers rose to their feet, bowing their heads in respect. The air buzzed with admiration, and for a moment I felt like royalty—like I was standing on top of the world.
Then his voice rang out, smooth and commanding.
“Meet my wife. Your new manager.”
My jaw dropped. A gasp tore from my throat.
He didn’t even ask me first!
- Writer
