Cillian's piercing gaze was fixed on her, his eyes boring into her like a cold drill.
"What are you doing back there?" he asked, his tone icy and detached.
Eileen's heart skipped a beat as she scrambled for a plausible excuse. "I... I was looking for ingredients," she stammered, trying to sound convincing. "I thought I saw something fall behind the fridge."
She held her breath, hoping her hasty lie would pass muster.
Cillian raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. "Ingredients, huh?" he drawled, his voice dripping with disbelief. "I hope you're not lying to me, doll."
Eileen forced a smile, struggling to appear calm and composed. "Of course not, Mr. Frosty," she replied, her voice sweet and submissive. "I am here to serve, as always."
Cillian's eyes flared with renewed anger, his pupils constricting as he took a step closer to her.
"Exactly," he seethed, his voice low and menacing. "You're here to serve me, not wander off on your own little programmed adventures."
Eileen could feel the heat of his fury radiating from him like a palpable force, making her skin prickle with unease.
She struggled to keep her voice steady, her words barely above a whisper. "Why are you so angry, Mr. Frosty?" she asked, her eyes fixed on his, searching for a glimmer of reason in their icy depths.
He exploded in anger, his voice thundering through the spacious kitchen like a clap of thunder as he replied to her question.
"Because since Casper left, I've been calling you, looking for you! Where the hell have you been?!" he bellowed, his words echoing off the stainless steel appliances.
Eileen swallowed hard, her throat constricting with fear. "I-I apologize," she stuttered, her voice trembling. "I didn't hear you... I was, uh, busy…"
She trailed off, her excuse sounding feeble even to her own ears.
"Sir Casper is… is he coming back?" She asked, intending to lighten the mood or at least change the subject.
"Busy?" Cillian scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Doing what? Who are you serving here, Casper or me? This is my mansion, not Casper's. He's not coming back," he spat, his words laced with venom.
Eileen took a deep breath, struggling to maintain her composure in the face of his anger.
How did I get involved with a man with anger issues?!
"What can I do for you now, Mr. Frosty?" she asked, her voice steady and submissive, her eyes cast downward in a gesture of deference.
She was literally at his mercy right? A man that could get whatever he wants can definitely look up her history, how she ended up in his house and then what? Arrest her!
Cillian's expression shifted from anger to something more unsettling, his eyes gleaming with a sinister intent.
"You can come sleep with me," he said, his voice low and husky, his words dripping with a menacing suggestiveness.
Eileen's heart skipped a beat as a chill ran down her spine. She hadn't expected that.
"S...sleep with you?!" she stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes widening in alarm as she struggled to process his demand.
"Yes," Cillian said, his voice softer now, but no less commanding, his eyes boring into hers with an unyielding intensity. "That's an order."
Eileen hesitated, her mind racing with the implications of his demand.
There was no chance to escape, so she had to play her cards carefully and make sure herself as a dill doesn't get banged!
"Of course, Mr. Frosty," she said, her voice steady and submissive, her eyes cast downward in a gesture of obedience but his something… conniving. "I'm here to serve...as you command."
Cillian was definitely satisfied with her response. He had a soft spot for obedient humans!
"Good. Follow me," he commanded, leading her deeper into the mansion she hadn't yet stepped on.
As she trailed behind him, Eileen's mind raced with desperate thoughts of escape. She needed to find a way out of this situation, and fast, or risk losing her dignity to a man with anger issues.
But for now, she had to play along, complying with his demands to buy herself some time and avoid arousing his suspicion that she wasn't the obedient doll he thought she was.
The consequences of disobedience, she feared, would be dire - he would send her to hell, or worse.
When they entered a room with barely any light, Eileen's fear began to escalate. "M... Mr. Fr... Frosty?" she stammered.
"Don't look for me in the darkness, just keep coming. Walk straight. I'm already on the bed," his voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows.
Eileen paused, trying to steady her breathing. She wanted to protest, to say they shouldn't do this, but she knew that would only make him more suspicious.
She had a Plan B though.
Raising her right hand like a sword, she prepared herself. Her martial arts training from her late mother, Rochelle, might just save her tonight.
Taking a deep breath, she started counting down in her mind as she walked closer to the bed.
5... 4... 3... 2...
She had just raised her knee to climb onto the bed when she felt Cillian's hands wrap around her waist, pulling her down beside him.
She was taken aback, unable to react out of sheer shock.
Her mind raced as she prepared to scream, but before she could, she felt his lips brush past her left nipple.
'Shit,' she cursed in her head. 'Who told me not to wear a bra?'
She had always hated bras, wearing them only when absolutely necessary. Now, she regretted that decision as her nipples hardened, pressing against the thin fabric of her top.
Rapist! Her mind screamed, forming a harsh judgment of the man beside her.
"Just go to bed. I'm already sleepy," Cillian mumbled, his voice now softer and drowsy.
Eileen lay there in stunned silence.
Yeah, right. Sleep! So that was it? Oh!
She exhaled slowly, trying to calm herself. Perhaps she could use this opportunity.
If he was truly going to sleep, she could sneak out. She needed to be patient and wait for the right moment.
For now, she settled into the bed, her mind easing up.