After some time, Hunter turns to my direction, and my heart skips a beat as I instinctively lower my head.
I shut my eyes and lips tight, screaming within.
This nervousness's crucifying me, only if I'm not already turned cold by the idea of Hunter staring at me—why does it even matterrrr?!
"I'll take her," he declares, his sonorous voice cutting through Saturn's words as it brings her chatter to a halt.
I imagine her blinking, stunned, and trying to comprehend Hunter's words. But I too am left bewildered.
Hearing his voice in reality for the first time is like having an initial conversation with your celebrity crush. Maybe more than that.
The sound is thrilling and exotic; lodges between my ovaries, creating butterflies and their dancing sensations. Anyone would fall for the man without setting eyes on his gorgeous physique.
"Take her? For what, Brother?" Saturn's annoying tone spoils the moment. Could someone beseech the girl to be quiet, even for a second? Her screeching voice is taunting as well as the dead silence that befalls the room as I strain my ears to hear Hunter's response.
It doesn't come on time. But when it does…
"You," he says, almost in a whisper. "Look up."
I feel a force compelling me to obey, raising my eyes to meet Hunter's gaze fixed on mine.
Yes, that there is it—the look I needed to see! Though his face is still blank, I can recognize 'Want' whenever I see one.
There's this glint in his eye… a pure embodiment of the word seduction—mind the hair and the eyepatch, even the brow piercing and how his lips are parted to create a small slit as if he'll blow an air of arousal any moment from now, not as if that air hasn't already been blown.
He's approaching me with a steady gait, his head cocked, footsteps echoing in the silent room.
As his presence dominates me, each footfall stealing a beat of my heart, my body tenses, chin tilted up to lock his stare.
He stands in front of me, and I feel a jolt of nervousness.
My knees tremble, my stomach churning when his majestic height casts a shadow over me. And his scent hits me so hard that I feel dizzy.
Now, I'm looking for something of a distraction so I'm not too nervous or teary in the eyes—something like what kind of scent this man has.
I can tell there's a hint of leather. But the prime smell… it— it's heady and musky like… It has this spicy and sweet smell lingering around a strong, woody aroma. I think that's it. Or I'm just rambling. But I love the scent. It's something I want to envelop my senses on a cold and rainy day… during sex.
'Ah! Snap back to reality, Heidi! Hunter's bloody in front of you. And until moments ago, it had been your damn dream to stand before him like you are now, to feel his breath on your face, touch his arms, and embrace him.'
But now… now as my heart urges me to reach out, my mind's filled with doubt. I can't seem to shrug off the feeling the look in his eye gives me. Fear. That's it—raw fear.
I feel like I'm staring a villain straight in the eye, and I'm the main character he wants to devour. That in the next second my life would be taken… by him. That's why as his hand rests firmly on my shoulder, the unexpected contact makes me shudder.
My heart's beating so fast that I might collapse, my chest heaving from the effect. Tickles are coursing in my veins, and the hair on my nape has risen. And for what? This man before me who now, thankfully, shifts his gaze to Saturn.
"From now on, she is mine," he says in a low voice, rather too casual as if he's pricing a commodity. Or, as if he's reading an unimportant list of which each word spoken is an item. "Father." I watch him flick his eye toward Dad Griffin. The latter nods before Hunter brushes past me.
I don't turn to see whether he's leaving the hall, but I know he's gone. His presence is gradually fading. Even my pulse rate is slowing down. Except I'm left in a labyrinth of emotions, my mind a chaotic dwelling for its contrasts.
I don't know if to feel anger, confusion, or fear. And Hunter's words leave a lasting trail on my mind that I can't erase.
Just hours ago, he acted like I didn't exist—as if he wasn't the fucking sweet guy who I exchanged texts with.
Now, out of the blue, he claims I'm his.
It makes no sense no matter how I look at it. And I can't help but wonder what kind of twisted game he's playing.
As I leave the room, I catch Saturn's mouth gaping open, words stripped from her tongue. She's looking at the dim space of the entrance. Her eyes are wide and her brows creased as she probably tries to fathom what happened.
If only she knew I'm as confused as she is, maybe even more.
~
Nighttime is fast approaching. Preparations for Hunter's birthday party are in full swing.
I ascend the grand staircase with heavy steps, my thoughts still consumed by the baffling encounter at the cellar.
Then I hear footsteps replacing mine behind me, glancing back only to meet the offish stare of Madam Kwakye's penetrating eyes.
I quickly avert my eyes and dare not stop or let Madam Kwakye walk past me, as the vicious woman will likely drag me by the ear to my destination or shove me down the stairs straight away. That's how harsh she can be, and the idea of that alone raises a tension between us that lingers as we reach the servants' quarters.
I enter the room with the same agitation of a worker caught slacking during work hours. Standing still, my hands crossed before me and head hung low, I wait while holding my breath for the looming trouble.
Madam Kwakye walks past me without a word and heads toward the room where the servants' luggage is locked away.
She unlocks the door and stands Akimbo by the entrance.
"Find your case," she says curtly while popping her bubblegum with a sharp snap. And I'm hesitant because she always has a trick up her sleeves.
She revels in the pleasure of playing with people's minds and could be testing me for all I know—probably to see if I intend to leave. Or… she could merely be having fun, like the pause game where whoever moves after the stop alarm is shot dead.
In my case, I might end up trapped to face Dad Griffin's stiff stare once I enter the room. And that… that's as bad as being shot dead. Nope, I won't fall for some bloody toddler tricks.
"Go get your bag, Heidi. I'm losing patience," Madam Kwakye repeats, her tone softer this time as if coaxing me. But I'm no fool. I'll just stick my eyes on the floor while pretending to be a mannequin.
The robust woman sucks her teeth and says under her breath, "Fine. I'll have my price for this." Then she disappears into the dark room before the light flickers on.
I watch as she goes about the room with birdlike movements; humming to herself, still snapping her gum.
A few minutes later, she rolls out a spinner bag and slides it to my feet. "There isn't more than one Heidi here, I presume," she utters, pointing to the tag on the bag.
My brows furrow as the woman locks the room and enters the dressing room. What she intends to find there, I don't know. What I do know is she has no right to riffle through my clothes like it's her gigolos' pockets. How did she know which is my clothing line by the way?
"Let's find uhm… those… chic clothes," she mutters before glancing back at me. "Heidi, come find them."
Find what, the vibrator between your ass? But I don't tell her that, do I? Of course not. I'm not so bold even if I seem so. And now, I'm unsure of what to make of THIS situation, so I stand rooted to the spot.
I can only ramble within myself. Is Madam Kwakye taking the trickery too far? Yes.
Will I fall for it? Positive—only because I don't know how long I can keep defying the chubby woman before she starts tossing hangers at me.
I perch by her side, my hand reaching for the clothes.
"You know those stretchy tops you wore as White cosmetics CEO?" the woman says, still busying herself with MY clothes. "I'll take them."
Oh, shit. I saw that coming. But then, they aren't her size. And I intended to point that out before realizing that whatever Madam Kwakye wants, she gets.
As I hand the tops to her, I catch the satisfactory glint in her eyes before a timid knock comes at the room door.
"I presume someone else will take you from here," Madam Kwakye begins as she makes to leave but stops and points an oily index at my eye. "Don't be carried away though. You still have eyes watching you." I watch her head for the room door, opening it and letting in Yivlen with three other maids.
"I don't understand a fucking word you're saying," I mumble after the woman has gone.
She hears, her voice echoing from the hallway, "Lose the bad language too!"
The girls bow their heads to me—a gesture that shocks me to the bone.
Yivlen speaks first. "Ma'am, I'll show you to your new room. Your luggage will be delivered later."
"Ma'am?" I repeat, dumbfounded by the unexpected change in tone.
A few hours ago, bitch was all over my business with her tongue full of gluey words. Now, ma'am? Fuck that!
I don't show my anger on the outside though, following Yivlen out of the servants' quarters.
However, whatever brings about this new development doesn't entirely settle everything because I still hear the other girls sneering behind me as I leave.