"Yeah, I'm awake," she said as she sat up, gripping the back of the couch for support. Her head swayed slightly as she looked at me, eyes unfocused but defiant.
"Good, then. Otherwise, I might have been worried," I said, settling down on the opposite end of the sofa—close enough to observe her, far enough to respect the moment.
"Worried?" she echoed, visibly confused.
"Yeah. Worried about how someone like you—someone who ends up drunk and spiked—can be responsible for an actual child's safety." I took off my watch and placed it neatly on the side table.
"Don't. Don't talk about Leo," she snapped, snarling as she tried to lunge at me—only to stumble halfway and lean against the back of the sofa, her flushed face still trying to appear fierce.
"I was just stating a fact now, wasn't I?" I teased, watching her stumble through her anger.
The ever-tightlipped and proper Miss Evelyn now looked like a child throwing a tantrum.
"I haven't had a drink in years. I've raised my son alone. I've worked my ass off," she said, wobbling on her knees as she launched into her declaration.
"And now you get to swoop in like some savior, just to prove I'm not enough. That my son needs someone else to live a normal life." Her voice remained soft, the same light tone she always used—but the restraint was gone. She didn't sound angry. She sounded heartbroken.
With each sentence, she moved closer to me—dragging herself on her knees, using the couch for support.
I smiled at her antics and stayed silent.
"See? See, there it is again. That infuriating silence and those taunting eyes—eyes that make me feel worthless. Like I don't matter. Is it so hard to answer when someone's talking?" She was right in front of me now, jabbing a finger toward my face, her knees pressing against my thighs.
"Speak. Speak, Adrian Voss. The Great Adrian Voss," she said, repeating herself bitterly.
She stumbled again—this time collapsing forward, her slender hands landing on my chest, hair spilling across my face.
"I was just waiting for you to finish venting," I said with a smile, placing a hand on her back and gently pulling her closer, our faces now just inches apart. "Are you finished now?"
A sweet scent hit my nose—alcohol, or maybe her perfume—I couldn't tell. She parted her lips to answer.
"I am not," she said, her voice rising. Her face, flushed red, matched her erratic breathing. Her arms gave way, and she collapsed fully onto my chest.
She looked up quickly, almost like a cat—her long hair obscuring her face. Annoyed, she shook her head repeatedly. I raised my hand, parting her hair and gathering it behind her head.
Her face was small—small enough to disappear entirely within my palms—as she glared up at me.
"Why did you say that? I know you didn't mean it," she said, her voice suddenly quiet.
"What? That we should live together?" I asked, already knowing what she meant. She nodded slowly—bumping her chin against my chest in the process, causing her eyes to water as she rubbed at it.
"Why do you think I didn't mean it?" I asked, my hand still resting gently on her back.
"Well, is that even a question? You're Adrian Voss. The Adrian Voss. Why would you bother with me—or my son? What could I possibly have to offer?" she asked, her voice heavy with doubt.
I knew she was at her limit—today's outburst likely brought on by stress after my last offer. She didn't need a grand gesture right now. Just a nudge. One small push in the right direction, and everything would fall into place. He would be mine.
And as things stood, I didn't mind her being part of the deal either. Training her would be… a pleasure of another kind.
"I meant what I said," I told her, my voice steady. "And I have my own reasons."
I held her sore chin, making her flinch slightly as I lifted her gaze to meet mine.
I saw the question lingering in her eyes.
Just then, my phone rang.
I glanced at her—her eyes now glassy from the pressure of my grip—as I moved my other hand down to retrieve the phone from my pants pocket. In the process, my hand brushed across her chest. The thin material of her shirt offered no resistance, and I clearly felt the fabric of her bra beneath. She flinched at the contact, but I held her in place. A small sigh escaped her lips as I raised the phone in front of her.
On the screen, it read: "Old Man." She glared at it.
Still confused, she watched as I answered and put it on speaker.
The old man muttered through some perfunctory greetings before getting to the point.
"Now that you're back, when are you bringing my granddaughter-in-law home?"
I looked at her, my face unreadable. Her expression slowly shifted as the words registered.
I brushed the old man off and ended the call.
"Understand now?" I asked, setting the phone on the side table.
She nodded slowly as I released her chin.
"You want to show me off to your family?" she asked.
"Just to the old man. He's been pestering me constantly lately," I replied.
"Now that we're clear on my intentions…" I slid my hand down again, resting it lightly on her waist. She let out a small, audible gasp, eyes glistening.
"Shall we finalize the deal too?" I leaned in, face close, inhaling that same sweet scent.
"Do you, or do you not agree?" I asked.
She hesitated—just for a moment—as I traced slow, deliberate circles over the base of her spine. Her breathing grew more erratic, and before long, she gave a small nod.
"Let's hope you won't change your mind again tomorrow," I said softly.
"What if I do?" she asked in a fragile voice.
I leaned forward until my mouth was just beside her red ear. "Believe me… you don't want to."
A visible tremor ran through her body.
"And what's with all these moans and gasps?" I teased, smiling as I leaned back, my other hand reaching up to play with her ear—hot to the touch.
She looked at me, eyes glimmering with unshed tears, as another gasp slipped from her lips.
"Don't tell me…" I paused, tilting her head gently up."You were fed an aphrodisiac?"