Billionaire Redemption

Chapter 26

Ayra’s POV

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My stomach grumbled low, loud enough to make me glance at the door guiltily—as if someone would hear. I hadn’t eaten well yesterday because of the awkward dinner with Leon, and now the emptiness in my belly was screaming louder than the fear in my chest.

"He won’t be awake, right?" I whispered to myself, holding the door handle. My heart pounded, but I tightened my grip and opened the door anyway.

The hallway was still, dimly lit, and quiet. I tiptoed out, the sound of my footsteps swallowed by the thick rug that lined the hallway.

The only place I knew in this massive mansion was the kitchen—and that was only because Leon had literally carried me like a sack to dinner the last time. I rolled my eyes at the memory and pressed forward.

As I walked, I let myself admire the place—massive chandeliers that sparkled like stars above me, walls lined with art that looked like they belonged in a museum, and antique vases placed delicately on ornate stands. Even the air smelled rich, like imported flowers and money.

This is wealth. Real wealth, no doubt.

I smiled a little, feeling like I’d stepped into a dream. No guards. No maids. Just silence. Maybe luck was on my side this morning.

I reached the kitchen and slipped in quietly. I opened the cupboards one by one—nothing I could make sense of.

Just boxes, jars, bottles of expensive-looking things I couldn't pronounce. I opened the last one and found biscuits, but I wasn’t really feeling like chewing cardboard. I kept searching and finally saw a packaged snack—some sort of chocolate-filled croissant. That would do.

I hopped onto the kitchen counter, unwrapped it, and started eating. The sugar hit me instantly, calming something deep in me. When I finished, I dusted my gown and hopped down, looked at the counter and saw it neat then my gown at the back to see if I was stained and it was clean.

I smiled, glancing at the living room across from me.

The living room screamed elegance. A huge flat-screen TV sat mounted on the wall across from a semi-circular set of chairs that looked too expensive to even sit on. A glass table sat between them with a sculpture on it—something abstract and probably costing more than my entire life.

Curiosity won me over.

I padded quietly over to the TV and picked up the remote, saying a small prayer under my breath. I pressed the power button… and boom—Netflix. Logged in and already subscribed.

My jaw dropped. “Wow… so this is how they live,” I mumbled, smiling.

I scrolled over to Trending, eyes lighting up at the bright covers and endless options. My classmates used to talk about K-Dramas all the time. I never had money to even subscribe to Netflix. But now…

One caught my eye—"Bon Appetit, Your majesty."* Looked light-hearted, historical, fun. Perfect distraction.

I ran back to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Jackpot—strawberry ice cream. I grinned as I took a spoon and held the tub in my arms.

But then I paused.

"Ayra, it’s that time of the month. No sugar." I said out loud like my inner nurse.

Then I replied to myself, "I won’t die. Just one scoop, please."*

Grinning, I tiptoed back to the living room.

But the moment I sat down—ugh. Another drop. I froze, panic setting in.

What if I stain this expensive chair?!

I stood up quickly and scanned the room. Then my eyes landed on the wide arm of the sofa.

“Smart girl.” I whispered to myself and gently lay sideways, letting my lower half avoid the seat altogether.

“I’m proud of your brain, Ayra,” I said and gave myself a light tap on the forehead.

With the remote in one hand and ice cream in the other, I clicked on Episode 1 and let the music, colors, and dramatic acting of Korean magic and romance fill the silence. For once, I felt like a normal girl, curled up watching Netflix at 4:30 AM, just… living.

**

I was already giggling by the time the end credits of Episode One rolled.

Bon Appétit, Your Majesty was nothing like I expected—it was way better. The first episode had me blushing, kicking my feet, and slapping the couch like some teenager.

That scene where the cold, stuck-up Emperor was personally served by the female lead after she tied him up? Gold. Literal gold. And the way he awkwardly reacted after tasting her food while pretending not to care had me biting my lips trying not to squeal.

“This is my kind of man,” I whispered, grinning like a fool. My stomach fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with ice cream or cramps.

I happily clicked Episode Two, ready to drown in more imperial romance. The opening started playing—but then—

Clink.

I froze.

A sound came from the kitchen.

I muted the TV instantly, heart thudding in my chest. Thief? Impossible. This house had more security than a government building.

Maid? Could be. But maids don’t usually move around at 5 a.m, yes?

Leon?

I swallowed hard.

“Please no…” I whispered, creeping slowly toward the kitchen. I tiptoed silently, peeking from behind the doorway.

And then I saw him.

Shirtless.

His back was turned, broad shoulders rising and falling with each quiet breath. His damp, inky-black hair clung slightly to his neck, water trailing down his skin and disappearing into the waistband of his low-hanging shorts. His muscles shifted as he reached for something in the fridge—casual, effortless strength. He looked like he had just come out of the shower.

I stood there frozen. Literally frozen.

My throat dried.

And I kept staring.

Until—

“You really love staring, don’t you?”

I choked—like actually choked as if food was stuffed into my mouth.

I stumbled backward a bit, hand flying to my chest as if that would calm the mini heart attack exploding in my ribcage.

How the hell did he know I was standing there? He didn’t even look back!

A new wave of panic rushed through me.

Is he… immortal? Can he sense things? See without looking? Read minds? Is he a freaking werewolf or something?!

I clamped my hand over my mouth to silence my internal scream.

And then I noticed… my hand was wet.

I slowly looked at my fingers, confused.

Saliva.

I drooled?

F*ck?!!

My jaw dropped in horror as the realization hit me.

I. Just. Drooled. Over. Leon. Kael.

A shiver ran down my spine and my brain short-circuited.

This house might be rich in gold and glass and fine art, but I was convinced now—it was also cursed.

Cursed with a man I could neither understand… nor stop staring at.