Swallowing hard, she forced herself to look away, focusing instead on the food in front of her. But she couldn't bring herself to eat.
With trembling hands, she picked up her fork, the cold metal slipping in her grip.
Evangeline's stomach rumbled again, a betrayal of her body's hunger.
She took a bite of the roast chicken, the tender meat almost melting in her mouth.
Yet the flavors were lost on her, the taste of fear too strong to be overpowered.
Vincent watched her with a hungry gaze as she ate, his own hunger not for the meal before him but for something else entirely.
His eyes lingered on her soft pink lips, the way they moved with every bite she took.
He wished to ravish those lips, to claim them as his own.
"You know why you're here," he said, distracting himself.
Evangeline's eyes remained glued to her plate, her appetite lost. "No sir," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Look at me," he demanded. The authority in his tone was undeniable. Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his gaze.
"You're here," he began, "because you're a problem that needs to be dealt with. You saw something you shouldn't have, and now, you're a liability." His voice was a silky threat, the kind that made her blood run cold.
"But," he continued, his tone shifting to something almost... gentle. "You're also something I want."
Evangeline's eyes widened, and she felt a cold sweat break out along her spine. What did he mean by that? What could he possibly want from her?
"But... but I don't understand what you talking about" she stuttered, her voice sounded broken.
Vincent's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "You don't need to understand," he said. "You just need to do as I say." He took last bite of his food, savoring the flavors as if he had all the time in the world.
Evangeline's confusion grew, the food on her plate now a forgotten prop.
"Finish your dinner," he said, his voice a whip crack that sliced through the heavy silence. "You'll need your strength."
Evangeline's eyes flicked up to meet his, filled with a mix of fear and confusion. She didn't dare argue. The last thing she wanted was to incur his wrath again.
With trembling hands, she picked up her fork and took another bite of the now-cold chicken.
"Finish your meal. We have matters to discuss in my bedroom."Vincente said looking at her face while wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Evangeline's hand froze mid-air, the silverware clattering against the porcelain plate. She stared at him, but said nothing in response.
Vincent Castellanos pushed his chair back with a deliberate screech.
The sound echoed through the grand dining hall.
He rose to his full height, his gaze never leaving Evangeline's terrified form.
"You have six minutes," he said, his voice a soft yet commanding tone.
Evangeline nodded, her eyes never leaving her laps.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode towards the door, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous space.
The maids lining the walls remained motionless, their eyes cast down in respectful fear.
Once the door clicked shut behind him.
The maids began to clear the dishes, their movements swift and silent as they worked to clean up.
Evangeline's eyes remained glued to the spot where he had been standing, her heart racing like a wild horse.
She forced herself to take deep, even breaths, trying to calm the storm within her.
Maid Sara approached her, her eyes filled with a silent question. "Are you done, Miss?" she asked, her voice a gentle.
Evangeline nodded, her appetite vanished like mist in the morning sun.
She couldn't bear the thought of another bite.
She pushed the plate away from herself, the food untouched except for the few bites she'd forced herself to take.
"Come with me miss, I will lead you to Sir's bedroom" Sara said, her voice barely audible above the clatter of the dishes being cleared.
Evangeline's stomach twisted into knots as she followed the maid through the mansion's hallways.
The door to Vincent's bedroom was open, the room dark, heavy furniture and brooding artwork.
The scent of his cologne hung in the air, a heady mix of sandalwood and leather.
Sara knocked softly on the frame, her eyes cast down in respect.
"Enter," Vincent's deep voice called from the darkness of the room.
Sara nudged her gently forward, then she left.
As she stepped over, the heavy scent of his cologne grew stronger, wrapping around her like a noose.
Vincent was standing by the window, a glass of amber liquid in hand, his eyes never leaving from the nightview through the window.
The city lights twinkled like distant stars.
He took a sip of his whiskey, then he boringly looked at Evangeline who had been standing there, trembling for minutes.
He turned to face her. His eyes searched hers for a brief moment before looking away.
Vincent's usual meticulously combed hair was disheveled, falling over his forehead.
His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing his muscular chest and the hint of a scar that she hadn't noticed before.
Thanks for reading.