THE HIGH GROUND

A HEART BENEATH THE ICE

Bella rushed out of the master bedroom, her hands shaking as she desperately smoothed down her wrinkled blouse and adjusted her twisted skirt. Her heart was a frantic drum against her ribs.

"Who roams around half-naked in the house like that?" she muttered fiercely to herself, her cheeks still flaming with a brilliant crimson. "Absolutely no consideration for others..."

But as her heels hit the plush rug of the main office room, the cold reality of the situation settled back over her. She stopped, letting out a sharp, frustrated breath. *Of course, it’s his mansion,* she realized bitterly. He was Daemond King Jr. He could do whatever he wanted in his own home. She was the one who had crossed the line, letting her dangerous curiosity pull her into his private quarters. *I shouldn't have entered there. Forget it, Bella. Just forget it ever happened.*

Before she could fully calm her racing pulse, the connecting double doors swung open.

Daemond stepped into the office room, and the sight of him made Bella’s breath hitch all over again. He had changed out of the towel, but his attire was far from formal. He wore a crisp, white semi-transparent linen shirt, left casually unbuttoned at the top. The thin fabric clung to his frame, subtly revealing the hard, shadowed contours of his muscular chest beneath. He had paired it with tailored dark trousers, and as he walked toward the massive mahogany desk, he began rolling his sleeves up his forearms with a slow, hypnotic rhythm. He looked entirely perfect, so charming, and so intensely manly in the casual outfit that it felt unfair to the rest of mankind.

Bella remained standing a safe distance away, keeping her posture rigid. Despite her internal warnings, she couldn't stop her eyes from drifting upward, taking a quick, helpless peek at the broad expanse of his shoulders before she frantically forced her gaze away, staring intensely at the floorboards.

"If you are done staring at my body, you may leave and wait outside, Miss Swan," Daemond said. His voice was a low, husky rasp that vibrated through the quiet room. He hadn't even looked up at her; his emerald eyes were already focused entirely on the manila folders she had left on his desk, his long fingers flipping through the documents with casual indifference.

Bella’s jaw dropped, a hot wave of indignation washing over her. "Wha... I... I wasn't... staring!"

She stammered over her words, her defense dying in her throat as she realized he wasn't going to respond. Daemond remained completely absorbed in his files, ignoring her presence entirely now that he had delivered his strike. Gritting her teeth, Bella decided she was more than glad to take off. She turned on her heel and marched out of the executive office, silently cursing him with every single step she took toward the grand staircase.

*What does he mean, 'staring'?* she thought, her inner voice fuming as she hurried down the hall. *Huh! I wasn't staring! Wasn't he the exact same person who had her pinned down on his mattress just moments ago? Half-naked, staring at her like he wanted to completely devour her alive? What an absolute piece of work!*

Reaching the opulent foyer, Bella suddenly stopped and looked around. The space was completely empty. Rose was entirely missing from the waiting lounge where the head housekeeper had left her. Bella’s brow furrowed, a sudden knot of worry tightening in her stomach. Did the chief secretary just leave her here? Did she take the town car and abandon her at the estate?

Before the panic could take root, a loud, violent splash echoed from the expansive glass doors leading to the rear of the mansion.

A second later, a sharp, piercing scream tore through the air. It was Rose.

Bella didn't think twice. She bolted toward the sound, her second-hand shoes slipping slightly on the polished marble as she threw open the rear doors. Outside, the scene was pure chaos. The head housekeeper was rushing down the stone path, completely dropping a silver medicine and water tray onto the floor. The glass shattered, water spraying across the stone as the old lady cried out in terror.

Bella reached the edge of the massive, deep luxury swimming pool and gasped at the horrific sight. A thin, pale boy was thrashing violently beneath the surface of the water, his thin hands clawing desperately for air as he sank into the deep end.

"Master William!" the old lady screamed, her voice cracking with maternal panic. "No! Help! Somebody help him!"

From the perimeter of the garden, a squad of nearly ten heavily built bodyguards heard the commotion and began rushing toward the pool. But before their massive frames could even cover half the distance, a blur of white linen cut through the courtyard.

It was Daemond. Having heard the scream from his office, he had sprinted down the stairs and out the doors in a state of pure, unbridled panic. His usual icy, calculating composure was entirely gone, replaced by a raw, terrifying desperation as he locked his eyes on the drowning boy.

Everyone was shocked and completely surprised by the sheer speed of his reaction. But as the crowd reached the edge, it was Bella who moved with the instinct of someone who spent her life putting others first. Without an ounce of hesitation for her own safety or her clothes, she threw herself toward the steps of the deep end, stretching her body out over the water, and managed to firmly grip the boy's flailing arm. With a mighty, breathless heave, Bella dragged the young boy up toward the concrete ledge.

The moment the boy's head broke the surface, Daemond rushed forward, dropping to his knees. He didn't care about his emotions visible to the world; he reached down and scooped the shivering, pale boy into a fierce, protective hug, pulling him tightly against his chest.

The silver-haired butler appeared instantly, quickly handing Daemond a pair of large, plush towels. Daemond wrapped them securely around the trembling boy, lifting him up into his powerful arms.

"Are you... are you okay?" Daemond managed to take out the words, his deep voice shaking with an emotion Bella had never heard from him before. He looked completely unraveled.

Wiliam coughed violently, spitting out pool water, and gave a weak, shivering nod against his brother's shoulder.

"Call the doctor!" Daemond shouted, his voice roaring like a feral lion protecting his cub. The sound echoed off the stone walls of the mansion, striking absolute terror into the staff.

The entire courtyard dissolved into a frantic panic. Bodyguards and caretakers began bumping into each other, frantically pulling out their smartphones and dialing numbers all together in a disorganized frenzy.

"Master, I did already," the old butler assured him smoothly, his calm voice acting as a anchor in the chaos. "The doctor will be here in exactly seven minutes."

Holding his brother securely, Daemond finally took a long, heavy glance over at Bella, who was sitting on the edge of the pool, gasping for air. His emerald eyes burned with an unreadable intensity, shifting from her to the old housekeeper. No words were exchanged between them, but the housekeeper gave a firm, understanding nod, knowing exactly what her master required.

Suddenly, Rose threw herself into the space, crying hysterically. Her hands flew to her face as she began apologizing over and over for the event to occur. "Mr. King, I am so incredibly sorry! I just turned my back for a second! William, sweetie, are you okay?" Rose wept, trailing frantically after Daemond as he turned and began striding back toward the mansion to take his brother to his room.

Before Rose could follow them through the doors, two large bodyguards stepped into her path, halting her midway with firm, unyielding expressions. Rose managed to cry out a few more loud, worried statements from behind their shoulders, making sure her voice carried down the hall.

But the moment Daemond and his brother disappeared around the corner of the grand staircase, Rose’s entire posture changed. In an instant, the hysteria vanished. Her face hardened, and she wiped her fake tears away with a cold, disgusted flick of her manicured fingers. Without casting a single look back at the pool or the staff, she turned around and walked straight toward the exit, completely done with the drama.

No one cared that Bella was still standing at the spot. She was completely soaked, her cream blouse and knit cardigan clinging heavily to her skin, dripping pool water onto the stone. She had just saved the boy's life, but as she stood there shivering in the cooling afternoon air, she didn't feel disappointed about being ignored. She wasn't the type of person who would ever look for admiration or praise. She lived to help others, and knowing the little boy was breathing and safe in his brother's arms made her genuinely happy.

Hoping for the boy’s continued wellness, Bella reached down and squished the excess water from the hem of her dark skirt. A sudden, violent shiver racked her body, and she coughed softly against her hand.

"Let's get home before I get sick," she whispered to herself, her teeth shivering against each other from the biting cold of her wet clothes.

She turned and began the long, uncomfortable walk out of the garden, heading toward the main exit doors of the estate, desperate to find a way back to her neighborhood. But just as her hand reached for the heavy brass handle of the exit door, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, stopping her right in her tracks.