CHAPTER 16
ALEXIA P.O.V
"Hiiiii!" Clara squealed as the door flew open.
Naomi, Allen, Clara's other brother, and a guy I didn't recognize walked in.
Perfect timing.
"What are you all doing here?" Asher asked—
And might I add… not in a friendly tone.
"Oh, don't be so moody," Clara waved him off. "Weren't you the one who invited us? And seriously—why is this place still so depressing? There's no vibe at all. You call this a party? Must I teach you everything?"
Without waiting for a response, she marched over to the speakers and blasted music through the room.
Allen walked up to me, a smirk playing on his lips.
"You know," he said casually, "when Clara told me you invited us, I thought she was being dramatic again. But now that I'm here…" he glanced at me, then back at Asher, "…I understand why you did."
He winked.
I raised a brow. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," he shrugged, already walking away.
Typical.
Moments later, he grabbed a few bottles and raised one in the air.
"Who's ready to party?!"
Cheers erupted.
But from the corner of my eye—
I saw it.
That flicker of anger in Asher's eyes.
Sharp.
Cold.
And then—
Gone.
Replaced by that same unreadable, expressionless face.
And for some reason…
That satisfied me.
I was about to walk away when—
"What did you do?"
I paused.
Turned slowly.
"Me?" I blinked innocently. "I didn't do anything."
"Don't play with me, Miss Williams."
I tilted my head slightly. "Is something wrong, Mr. Slade? That your family decided to show up at your house? You could use the company." I smiled faintly. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
I walked off before he could stop me.
"Here, have a drink," Naomi said, handing me a glass of whiskey.
"Hm… thanks."
I took a sip, glancing at her.
"Seems like you and Allen are getting along pretty well."
"It's nothing," she said quickly, her cheeks turning pink.
"Oh? Nothing—and you're blushing like a high schooler?"
She turned away, ignoring me.
"Hey, guys!" Clara suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
"Naomi has a crush," I said immediately.
"I do not!" Naomi snapped.
"Ohhh, tell me everything," Clara leaned in excitedly. "But first—what's his name?"
Naomi and I exchanged a look.
"What?" Clara frowned. "Is he an assassin or a baker? Why are you acting like it's a crime to say his name?"
"…It's your brother," Naomi admitted.
Silence.
Clara blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"Oh… oh…"
She froze, clearly trying to process it.
"But… why?" she said slowly. "Allen is—no offense—a total player. And I don't want anything to ruin our relationship."
Her tone softened.
And honestly…
I understood her.
"Hey! Truth or dare?" the unknown guy called out.
"Hell yeah!" Clara clapped excitedly. Then she turned to us. "We'll talk about this later."
"Alexia!" Allen shouted. "You playing?"
"Nah, I'll pass."
I wasn't in the mood.
Still, I sat nearby, watching them form a circle and start their chaotic little game.
Laughter filled the room.
Music.
Drinks.
Too many drinks.
I had lost count of how much I'd had—but surprisingly, I was still completely sober.
Clara and Naomi, on the other hand?
Not so much.
Their faces were flushed red.
"We're down here having fun," Allen said, holding up his bottle, "and the host is nowhere to be found."
"Yeah," Clara chimed in. "Someone go call him!"
And then—
All eyes turned to me.
I frowned. "What?"
"Go call him," Naomi said.
"Why me?"
"Because it's weird for us to be here without the host."
"I get that—but why me?"
Silence.
"…Because none of us want to," Naomi admitted.
"And I look like I do?"
"Well…" Allen scratched his head. "We just feel like you should."
"No."
Absolutely not.
I wasn't going upstairs to face that man.
Not after earlier.
"Fine," Clara said dramatically. "I really thought you weren't scared of anyone, Alexia. But I guess I was wrong."
I froze.
"Excuse me?"
She smirked. "Shame."
Hook.
Line.
Sinker.
"Who said I'm scared of him?" I scoffed, standing up. "Just watch—I'll bring him down in under 20 minutes."
"Twenty?" Clara laughed. "I could do it faster."
"Ten."
And with that—
I marched upstairs.
"Such a big mansion for such a lonely man," I muttered. "No wonder he's a robot."
The hallway was quiet.
Too quiet.
I opened door after door.
Nothing.
Empty.
Until—
The last room at the end of the hall.
I pushed it open.
His bedroom.
Dark.
Minimal.
Cold.
A large bed sat in the center, untouched.
A balcony stretched out beyond glass doors, overlooking the night—calm, almost peaceful.
Two more doors stood at the side.
Closet.
Bathroom.
"He has to be here…"
I stepped inside.
"Mr. Slade?"
Silence.
"Mr. Slade," I called again, louder.
Nothing.
I checked the closet.
Empty.
My gaze shifted to the bathroom door.
"I probably shouldn't…"
I opened it anyway.
"Mr. Robot?" I called softly.
Still nothing.
"…Maybe he's not here."
I turned to leave—
And suddenly—
THUD.
I slammed straight into something solid.
Pain shot through my head.
"Ah—!"
I lost my balance instantly, falling backward.
Instinctively, I grabbed onto something—
Fabric.
Soft.
Smooth.
I pulled hard—
And in the next second—
Strong arms wrapped around me.
Firm.
Steady.
Stopping my fall just before my head hit the marble floor.
My breath hitched.
I looked up—
And froze.