Scarlett POV:
I collapsed onto the bed, feeling completely drained. Gosh, I can't believe I survived that. But even as my body begged for rest, something was off. I wasn't tired. Maybe the tears had drained all my energy, or maybe it was the adrenaline from everything that had happened.
I climbed under the covers and shut my eyes, hoping sleep would come, but it didn't. I felt wide awake, as though the events of the day had somehow made me feel more alert. How am I not exhausted after everything I went through?
Frustrated, I got up and left my room. The house was eerily quiet. No maids, just the bodyguards quietly moving around, some of them lurking in the shadows, like ghosts in this enormous mansion.
I wandered the halls aimlessly, the silence pressing down on me. After a while, I headed back upstairs, my feet dragging. As I passed Mr. Grey's door, I hesitated.
Let me just check if he's awake, I thought, my curiosity getting the better of me. Slowly, I pushed the door open just a crack.
There he was, lounging in a chair, cigarette in hand, the soft glow of the embers illuminating his face. He looked comfortable, but somehow, he also looked... lonely. Here he was, surrounded by wealth and power, yet completely alone. Sure, he had his grandmother and Mr. Cross, but it wasn't the same. He needed someone close, someone to share his life with, to confide in.
I wondered what made a man like him so cold. So distant.
Why did someone so undeniably handsome—his lips, his teeth, his eyes—keep everyone at arm's length?
Not that I was interested, of course. Having feelings for Mr. Grey? That was a line I would never cross.
He stood up casually, heading to a drawer. As he opened it, I couldn't help but watch as he pulled out several small containers.
Wait... what? Does he take hard drugs too?
Before I could think better of it, I pushed the door open a little wider and stepped inside.
"It's not right to take drugs right after smoking, sir," I said, my voice soft but firm. He didn't even look up, just continued what he was doing.
Didn't he hear me?
I walked toward him, reaching for the bottle of water he was about to grab. His eyes lifted to meet mine, cold and unreadable.
"Mr. Grey, it's not healthy to take hard drugs, especially after smoking," I said, my voice trembling a little.
He scoffed, chuckling lightly.
What's so funny?, I asked myself , my confusion mounting.
He smirked, shaking his head. "Stop playing doctor when you don't even know the difference between hard drugs and regular ones… It's people like you who take caffeine as a painkiller."
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I had genuinely thought those pills were hard drugs.
I reached for the container to check the label, but suddenly, he snapped, "Drop it."
I froze, then quickly set the bottle down, my hands shaking slightly. "Sorry, sir, I thought they were—"
He cut me off, shoving me aside without a second thought. "What, you think I'm some kind of drug smuggler?" he snapped, making himself comfortable on the couch.
I bit my lip, holding back a retort. After all, he was a mafia don, and I'm sure drugs were part of the game.
"Um, Mr. Grey... I can't sleep."
He lit another cigarette without looking at me. "Put some glue in your eyes. That'll work," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
My jaw dropped. What kind of advice is that?
Let me try it on his eyes first…
"Why aren't you sleeping?" I asked, taking a seat next to him , making sure there was a respectable distance between us.
"Why are you in my room?" he countered, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looked at me.
I sighed in frustration. "Can you stop being so mean?" I said, my tone softening.
He didn't even acknowledge me.
"Go away, pony. You're giving me a headache," he muttered, lying back on the couch and closing his eyes.
I stared at him. Even now, when he wasn't trying to hurt me, he still looked... well, beautiful. There was a peacefulness to his face that I rarely saw.
He swallowed, and I found my eyes following the motion of his throat.
"Stop staring and get lost," he grumbled, his eyes still closed.
I quickly stood up, muttering under my breath. Maybe he was just hungry.
I'll get him something to eat.
Xavier POV:
Thank God she's finally gone. This girl was a pain in the ass. I couldn't even take my damn drugs in peace.
I sat back in the chair, eyes closed, savoring the silence. The only thing I wanted right now was some solitude.
But of course, my peace was short-lived. I heard a faint rattling noise. What now?
I opened my eyes lazily, and there she was, shaking a pack of peanuts in front of me with the most ridiculous smile plastered on her face.
I barely managed to suppress a groan. She really didn't get it, did she?
"What?" I snapped, clearly annoyed.
"I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you this," she said sheepishly, holding out the peanuts.
"I'm not," I replied flatly, pushing her hand away before resettling myself on the couch. "Get lost."
But she didn't. She just sat down on the floor, closer than I'd like, resting her head on the arm of the couch, blinking up at me.
I didn't answer. I didn't want to talk. Her presence was making my skin crawl, and I was starting to lose my patience.
"Mr. Grey…" she started again, her voice tentative.
"What?" I snapped, losing the little composure I had left. She flinched, drawing back slightly.
"I was just worried, so I brought you a snack," she said, her voice almost a whisper.
'For fuck's sake, worried? About what?' I wanted to shout it out, but I swallowed my frustration, sitting up and taking the peanuts from her.
The instant I took the bag, her face lit up, and she giggled, the sound grating on my nerves.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I muttered under my breath.
"Now go away," I said, setting the peanuts aside and leaning back against the couch.
She didn't leave. Instead, I felt the weight shift as she moved closer to me.
"Mr. Grey, I wanted to ask... if there's been any update on my father's murder?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
So that's why she's been bothering me.
I arched an eyebrow. "Has there been any intimacy between us?" I asked, my voice cold, my eyes narrowing.
Her cheeks turned bright red. "No," she whispered, nodding.
"Then no sex, no help. Got it?" I said, staring her down. "Now leave."
I watched as her eyes filled with tears. What the hell?
I didn't want to feel sympathy, but it was hard to ignore her pained expression. Still, I kept my voice hard. "I swear, if you shed a single tear, I'll throw you out the window."
She quickly wiped her eyes, nodding vigorously.
"I promise I won't, but please… just…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked up at me like a helpless child.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. "I'm trying to track the mail that was sent to me before I do anything else," I said, hoping that would end the conversation.
She looked confused. "Which mail?" she asked, and I could feel my temper rising again.
"I'm not explaining that," I muttered, but she cut me off.
"Please, Mr. Grey, just tell me," she pleaded, shaking my leg as if that might make me cave.
I removed her hand with a sharp motion, my eyes cold and warning.
"Please, Mr. Grey," she begged again.
God, I was about to lose my mind.
"You'll find out tomorrow. I'm tired now," I said, my voice short.
She practically beamed. "Really?!" she exclaimed, smiling like a child who had just gotten what they wanted.
I wasn't in the mood for any more of this. I grabbed her by the neck, and dragged her out, pushing her out of my room ,I slammed the door at her face.