Xavier's POV:
What the hell is wrong with me?
I still can't believe I almost forced myself on her. She was terrified—truly terrified.
I don't understand myself anymore. Every time I touch her, those old memories come raging back, like my nightly nightmares tearing through my mind.
But what confuses me even more is that I didn't stop because of those memories…
I stopped because of her.
Her screams.
Her tears.
The way she begged.
It pierced through me, shaking me to the core. Each plea felt like a knife, stabbed repeatedly in my chest.
Gosh , Xavier, what has become of you?
No woman has ever made me feel this horrible. But Scarlett… she's different. And I hate that I don't know why.
Usually, I hate tears—even from her . But today… watching her break because of me made my stomach twist with something I've never felt before: guilt.
If this continues, I might actually lose my mind.
I tried to push the thoughts away. There's nothing special about her. She's just like the others—women I used, discarded, and forgot.
Maybe I'm only feeling this way because I haven't been with a woman in a while and cause I almost forced myself on her .
Yes. That must be it. Just a stupid coincidence.
But a part of me—a stubborn, relentless part—refused to believe it.
Why?
Frustrated, I swung my legs off the bed and headed toward the dressing room. I needed to put something on, then check on her… make sure she was fine.
Yeah. That would calm me down.
It had to.
Scarlett's POV:
I lifted my head, blinking through blurry tears, trying to see who had come to help me.
It was Eva.
"Ma'am, let me help you to your room before someone sees you," she said softly, adjusting the blanket around me.
With her support, I got to my feet. Shame flooded me—shame and a deep, bone-heavy weakness. She wrapped an arm around my waist and guided me to my room.
Once inside, she helped me onto the bed. I buried my face in my cuffed hands and let the pain pour out of me. I cried until my chest ached and my throat felt raw.
I never imagined Mr. Grey would be like that.
Yes, he's cruel. Heartless. A man who enjoys seeing his enemies suffer.
But this?
Trying to force himself on me?
It shattered something inside me.
I know he's angry. He probably thinks I wanted sex last night just to see him vulnerable—broken. But I didn't even know that side of him existed, let alone meant to trigger it.
A warm hand touched my back. I flinched and looked up.
Eva stood there, eyes full of the warmth I wished my mother's eyes held when she looked at me.
"Ma'am," she said gently, "I don't know why you've chosen to stay with someone like the boss… but don't push yourself too far. You might die before you accomplish whatever goals you have."
"You don't understand why I need his help," I whispered, looking away. My chest felt heavy—like Thor's hammer had settled on it. "Why I have to keep going."
"I might not understand," she said, "but that doesn't mean I don't care. You're a good person. You deserve to be happy."
Happy.
That word felt foreign.
The only person who ever made me feel it was taken from me—my dad.
"Thanks," I murmured, curling up on the bed.
Eva stepped out for a moment, then returned after a while . "Ma'am, let me help with the bruises."
I forced myself to sit upright.
She applied ointment gently to my legs, chest, neck, and especially my hands— particularly my wrists. Then she pulled a small key from her pocket.
"Boss gave me this to give you," she said carefully.
I stared at it, then tossed it aside. What use was a key if I couldn't use it?
"Should I help you?" she asked.
My eyes widened. "No—don't. You almost lost your job last time."
She chuckled softly.
"I meant… should I teach you how to unlock them yourself?"
I stared at her, shocked. "You know how?"
"Yes."
"How?"
She smiled. "We all go through various training and tests—self-defense and more—before we're allowed to work here."
I nodded, and she took my hands, guiding me through — step by step, ensuring every detail is heard and well understood.
After many trials I finally pulled it off.
Click.
The cuffs fell open. Relief washed over me.
"Thank you, Eva," I said, smiling for the first time in what felt like years.
"Anytime, ma'am." She hesitated. "May I see your phone?"
I hesitated then handed it to her. She went to my browser then searched how to unlock a handcuff with one hand and saved the page.
I blinked at her, stunned.
"If the boss finds out you learned this from me, he'll think I helped you again. This way, you have proof." I nodded I realization and thank her again.
Wow! She's was smart—very smart.
She left and returned with a tray of food. We talked for a while. She told me about her kids—her son 12 and her daughter 5. I smiled at her stories, warmed by her presence. I wished deep down my mom could be like this, even just for an hour .
Then, suddenly, she stood up straighter, head bowed.
"Ma'am, do you need anything else?" she asked softly.
She subtly pointed toward the door.
I followed her gesture.
There he was.
Mr. Grey.
Standing at the door, hands shoved casually in his pockets, looking effortlessly powerful. His dark eyes scanned me slowly….endlessly .
I sucked in a sharp breath.
What was he thinking?
"An orange juice would be fine," I said to Eva, forcing my voice steady. She bowed and left.
He remained still, watching me with those piercing eyes.
My hands trembled as I tried to lift the spoon to my mouth.
Then he began walking toward me.
Each step deliberate and well calculated.
I shivered and pulled the sheets tighter around myself.