Philip's POV
I jolted awake, heart racing, at the sudden, jarring sound that echoed through the room. I wasn't used to being woken up, so imagine my shock. It took a moment for my brain to catch up. doorbell. Someone was at the door. I groaned, dragged myself out of bed, and opened it. Standing there, looking like she belonged in some 1950s TV show, was a woman in an apron, mid 50s grinning like a fool.
What the hell's so funny? I thought
"Good morning, Mr. Philip," she chirped, her voice way too chipper for this hour. "I'd like to inform you that breakfast is ready, and whenever you're... "
I didn't let her finish. I Slammed the door in her face without a second thought. "Fuck off bitch," I muttered, heading back to the bed.
I collapsed face-first into the mattress, trying to claw my way back to sleep. But it was pointless. After 12 hours of rest, my body wasn't having it. I cursed under my breath. It was already morning.
Lying there, staring at the ceiling, my stomach growled like it was pissed off. Fine. I gave in after 3 hours and headed out, the mansion still feeling foreign and off-putting. At least I'd seen a couple of people, which confirmed that the place wasn't completely abandoned.
When I reached the dining room, the table was a ridiculous spread of food, fruit, snacks, you name it. My stomach roared again. I grabbed an apple, bit into it, and started chewing, only to catch the cook watching me like a hawk from the corner of the room.
Fucking creep, I thought.
"If you need anything....." she started, but I cut her off looking up from my phone.
"Can you kindly shut up?" I said, annoyed.
The footsteps on the stairs took my attention from her. before I saw who's. The Man who came into view, Snapped my breath away. He appeared, like he owned every room he walked into. "Is that Riff ? I asked myself. I mean he looked the part. This man wasn't just handsome; he looked like he'd been sculpted by some ancient god. His skin was a deep, warm caramel, smooth and flawless, like he'd never known a hard day in his life. His hair, cropped short and tight, had a natural curl, sharp and perfectly styled without a single strand out of place.
He wore a suit that looked like it had been made just for him tailored so well it clung to him in all the right ways. The charcoal-grey fabric hugged his broad shoulders and strong chest like it had been sewn right onto his body, His tie was sleek, dark, and flawless, as if it had been tied with precision only money could buy. Even his shoes polished black leather were glinting in the light, screaming wealth. The whole look was effortless, like he woke up that morning looking ready to conquer the world.
His posture matched the look straight, confident, not a hint of doubt in his step. He carried himself like someone who didn't need to speak to be heard. Like the world already listened. Every movement was smooth, controlled, as if the ground bent for him. Like every step he took was meant to be admired, I watched as he descended the stairs, his presence impossible to ignore
who is he" ? Curiosity was eating me up
He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, with an ageless look that wealth seemed to preserve. His skin, was a deep, warm brown. Black? But Mrs. North was pale as snow. The thought hit me, and I was suddenly full of questions. Was Mr. North Black? Was this guy somehow connected to that family? Or was he Riff? I was confused. I needed to know. The wish to know him was eating me up. He was ascending the stairs with Ayon, speaking in low murmurs, probably some business talk, like they were off to work.
And then he did something. Something that shattered me and rilled me up my world, all at the same time.
Our Mr Perfect, he walked past me without so much as a flicker in my direction, He walked right out the door without sparing me not as much as a glance, and definitely not a nod. Nothing. I wasn't exactly small, standing at 5'9, maybe 6ft, and while I wasn't as built as Ayon, I was working on it. I was far from invisible. But this guy? He treated me like I didn't exist. I started to wonder if I was a ghost.
How could he not notice me? Was I really that unremarkable? Was I not worthy of His stare?
"Is that Riff?" I asked, still trying to make sense of it all. There had to be some explanation for the way he brushed past me.
The cook, who was busy setting the table, glanced up. "I'm sorry?"
"Your boss. Is that your boss?" I asked again, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice.
She nodded, clueless. "Yes, that's Mr. North."
Mr. North. So, that was him the man who was supposed to know I'd be here, who was supposed to..... I don't know, acknowledge me? But he walked past like I wasn't even a thought in his mind? Like I was just part of the furniture, not worth a second of his look. Riff or not, the fuck was that about?
I felt a weird twist in my chest, something between anger and...something else. Why did it matter so much that he didn't acknowledge. The fuck ! Didn't he know i was coming.
______________________
Nothing could've prepared me for the crushing weight of boredom hitting me like a brick. The day dragged on painfully. I retreated to my room, after the whole fiasco with Mr Stiff.. hoping for some quiet time, but it was impossible to shake the restlessness. This was the longest I'd gone without causing some sort of chaos. This life wasn't for me. I shouldn't even be here. This place was as quiet as a graveyard. Ostian that bastard. I cussed.
Finally, I gave in and decided to take a walk around the mansion, though I doubted there'd be anything worth seeing. Same as before vast gardens, marble statues, a private garden fountain. I was bored. As I wandered aimlessly, I glanced up at the building and froze. I couldn't believe my luck. There, on a balcony, stood Mr. North or "Mr. Stiff" as I'd dubbed him staring off into nothingness, Did I mention he was shirtless. Shirtless in all his glory
I stopped dead in my tracks. His body... I don't know how to describe this. I shook my head in disbelief. Riff was built like something out of a magazine, dude was so perfect, every muscle carved, every line in place. "Fuck," I muttered under my breath. What the hell was wrong with me? Did I forget the cold shoulder the bastard had given me earlier? And yet, here I was, hiding behind some overgrown flowers, staring at him like a creep. Was I seriously stalking him right now? Did I even want to take this walk? Or was I hoping I'd see him again? I was never one to take a walk in my life.
My heart raced in my chest, and I cursed under my breath. What was that? Why did my body react like this? I groaned in frustration, battling with myself, unsure of what was happening or why I even cared.
I didn't realize when I pulled out my phone and started snapping pictures of him. My thumb just wouldn't stop clicking, like I was possessed, trying to capture every angle of him standing there. But it wasn't enough no matter how much pictures I took. The lighting was trash, it was getting too dark, and the photos weren't doing him justice. I scrolled through them, shaking my head in disagreement. It wasn't enough. I needed a clearer shot.
That's when I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of a voice behind me.
"Think you've had enough?"
Of course. Ayon, ruining the damn moment, always poking.
"Fuck off," I snapped, pushing past him and brushing his shoulder like I didn't care.
"Language," he called out behind me, like some damn authority. I stopped in my tracks, blood boiling, and turned to face him.
"You got a death wish or something?" I shot back. '' the fuck are you to tell me what I can or can't say?"
He closed the gap between us, stepping right into my space until our faces were almost touching. His breath was on me, too close for comfort. We could've kissed right then, and the thought of it pissed me off.
"thread Carefully," he warned, his voice low.
"Or what?" I leaned in even closer, feeling the heat between us. Then, without thinking, the words slipped out. "You know he's not gonna fuck you right."
Ayon didn't flinch. For some reason, that small fact gave me relief. Maybe there was nothing going on between you know... Why did it matter anyway. Fuck it. Either way, this stupid face-off was over, and for once, I didn't want to push it.
I've never been one to back down from a fight. Hell, I lived for it—blood, pain, the intoxicating rush of adrenaline. Trouble had my name written all over it back in Ohio; it clung to me like a second skin, and I wore it like a badge. Hurting people, wrecking lives, it came as naturally as breathing. But thinking about Riff seeing me like that? It didn't sit right.
People were never pleased when I came off that way. I didn't want Riff to be displeased at me.
But, Why did I care? Why did it even matter what he thought of me? Did I really want to make a good impression on him? Please him? The thought gnawed at me, foreign and unsettling, like I was betraying my own instincts. That wasn't who I was. But for some reason, the idea of him looking at me with anything less than respect... it stung in a way I didn't want to admit.
"Goodnight, asshole," I spat at Ayon, more to shake off the strange feeling gnawing at me than anything else. The words were sharp, but even as I said them, my mind was somewhere else still stuck on why the hell I cared what Riff thought. I made it into the building. With Ayon right behind me walking me in like he was walking a dog into it cage. The man was starting to get on my nerves really.
Just as I was halfway up the Stairs , Ayon called out again, "You start school on Monday."
I didn't bother turning around. "Now, isn't that some good News ," I said replied
Truth was, I did love school—just not for the reasons everyone else did. School was a playground for someone like me, a place where you could easily find prey. Weak, clueless kids who couldn't wipe their noses without their mama around. I was the nightmare they carried into adulthood, the face they talked about in therapy sessions years later. I made sure of that. Ohio had its fill of me. I caused chaos, real damage, and when they finally had enough, they booted me out of every school I set foot in. No one in Ohio would even touch my record anymore.
At least something good was coming out of Boston. School is good. The thought consoled me. I just needed to wait till Monday. I doubt I'd be able to make it. But I could try.
__________________________
Please kindly Leave a vote.