Anger surged through Richard like a storm, and he turned off the tablet abruptly, as if cutting off the evidence of her deceit.
Driven by a mix of jealousy and betrayal, Richard stormed back into the house, his feet pounding the floor with a fierce intensity.
He moved quickly, his footsteps echoing through the grand hallways like a drumbeat of accusation.
Earlier, at the dining room, when he saw Rachel leaving the table and heading towards the kitchen, he suspected her, but he didn't dwell on it then, willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Now, that trust seemed like a foolish mistake.
In the hallway, he intercepted the maid carrying the drink, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. Without a word, he snatched the glass from her hand, his fingers closing around it like a vice.
He angrily gulped down the juice, as if trying to erase the gesture Rachel had intended for Derek, the liquid burning his throat.
The taste did nothing to quell his fury; instead, it fueled his anger, like gasoline poured on a fire.
He strode further into the kitchen, his temper flaring like a wildfire. Spotting Rachel, he didn't hesitate, his movements driven by raw emotion.
He grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not painful, his fingers wrapping around her like a restraint. He dragged her towards their room, his pace quick and determined, leaving the maid watching with wide eyes.
"Richard, what are you doing?" Rachel exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of fear, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to wriggle free from his grasp.
He didn't respond, his silence deafening as he pulled her along, his grip unyielding.
He didn't stop until they were inside their room, the door slamming shut behind them like a trap.
He let go of her arm, and she rubbed the spot, her eyes never leaving his face. He turned to face her, his eyes blazing with anger and jealousy, the intensity of his gaze making her take a step back.
"Explain to me!" he demanded, his voice tight with controlled rage, the words barely containing the fury simmering beneath. "Why are you still making drinks for Derek? What game are you playing, Rachel?"
Rachel blinked, confusion and realization dawning on her face like a sunrise, her eyes widening as understanding slowly dawned.
"I was just being polite, Richard," she replied, her voice calm and measured, a hint of defensiveness creeping in. Yet, she lied. "It's nothing more than that. I didn't mean to upset you."
"Polite?" he scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm, his voice heavy with disbelief. "You think I'm a fool? You still have feelings for him, don't you?"
Rachel took a step back, her eyes wide with protest, shaking her head vehemently.
"No, Richard, you've got it all wrong. I don't have any feelings for Derek anymore. I'm committed to making this work with you," she insisted, her voice firm but laced with a hint of desperation.
He stared at her, his eyes searching hers with a piercing intensity, as if seeking to uncover the truth hidden beneath her words.
"Then why do this?" he asked, his voice softer but still laced with pain, the vulnerability in his eyes a stark contrast to his usual composure.
"I wanted to show that I can be civil, that I can move on past him and our memories together," she explained, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her eyes, her gaze locked on his with a sincerity she hoped would convince him.
'Yet another lie,' she thought, her heart racing with the fear of being discovered, but she was sure Richard couldn't detect the deception behind her words.
"But it's you I care about now, Richard. You have to believe me," she pleaded, her words laced with a desperation she couldn't conceal.
Richard's anger began to ebb, replaced by a deep, gnawing uncertainty that threatened to consume him. He yearned to believe her, to trust that she was sincere, but the wounds of jealousy and betrayal ran too deep.
"Just...don't do it again," he finally whispered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I can't bear the thought of you doing anything for Derek. Understand?"
Rachel nodded, her eyes brimming with tears and earnestness. "I understand. I promise. I'll do anything to regain your trust."
Richard took a deep breath, trying to let go of the residual anger, the tension in his body slowly easing. "Alright. Let's put this behind us and move forward."
Rachel stepped closer, her eyes locked on his, her hand reaching out to touch his arm with a gentle caress. "I'm with you, Richard. Only you."
He nodded, though a flicker of doubt still lingered in his eyes, a hint of uncertainty that he couldn't shake.
For now, he would choose to believe her, hoping that their fragile trust could withstand the tests to come, and that their love was strong enough to overcome the hurt and betrayal.
Richard's demeanor softened as he pulled Rachel's cheek, teasing her lightly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. She sighed, feeling a bit of pain from the prolonged pull, her cheek now red and slightly tender.
Richard noticed and leaned in, his lips brushing against the reddened spot in a tender, gentle kiss.
Rachel's heart fluttered, beating heavily in her chest, as if awakening from a long slumber.
In her past life, aside from Derek's forced and violent touch, she had never experienced such genuine affection, such tender care.
Richard, once a distant figure, a man of prestige who wouldn't dare touch a woman who wasn't his, was now showing her a different side of himself, one that was gentle, kind, and loving.
His actions were like a balm to her soul, soothing old wounds and awakening new emotions, making her feel seen, heard, and cherished.
As Richard's lips brushed against her cheek again, Rachel's mind drifted back to a specific night in her past life….
(Flash Back)
It had been a particularly difficult evening, one that had started with a heated argument and ended with Derek's storming out, leaving Rachel alone and heartbroken.
Feeling dejected and desperate for comfort, she had turned to a bottle of wine, seeking solace in its numbing embrace.
That night, Richard had found her stumbling through the hallway, her legs trembling beneath her.
Concerned, he had scooped her up in his arms, cradling her like a fragile doll, and carried her to the room she shared with Derek.
Rachel was indeed aware enough to register the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek as he held her close, his scent a comforting mix of soap and leather.
"Rachel, you're too drunk. Let me get you to bed," Richard had murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves, his breath a gentle caress against her ear.