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MY JAW DROPS. WHAT the hell was that?
I watch him swiftly wipe his lips with the napkin provided. Is it something I said? Something I did? Is it the food? I take a bite of the brioche, then pop it in my mouth. No, of course, it’s not the food. It’s delicious.
He stands up, then takes his steps away from me, but my feet seem to have a mind of their own. I follow him in a flash, just in time to stop him from opening the door.
“Wait!” I yell as I grab his arm.
“Don’t touch me!” he shouts, then pulls his arm back. His voice is like the great imitation of Belle’s Beast. My heart skips a beat.
His masked face looks down on me, glaring and breathing heavily. I stagger back.
“Rule number two. I hate being touched.”
I shudder at the sound of his voice. I feel ashamed by only grabbing his arm. Is this another reason he hates going out of his room other than his hiding-from-the-whole-world game? He hates being touched?
I back away, feeling so embarrassed. I never felt so dominated my whole life. I used to be the one who solves things myself. I work hard for my twelve siblings, and I’m their hero, yet here, I feel like I’m the slave.
“I’m so sorry, Master. I was wrong. It won’t happen again.” I breathe a sigh of sadness, realizing how I crossed the line. I shouldn’t have asked him to come out. The Master is right all along.
He grits through his teeth. “If hating you can be a rule, I’d be happy putting it on number one. You are very brazen and presumptuous. You need to behave.” Master Brandon steps forward and lowers down himself to my height. He is too tall compared to a five-feet-three inches’ height. He leans over to my ear, then breathes on my neck. I’m not able to answer. I almost stumbled. “Someone should teach you, Miss Hart. It’s a shame I can’t.”
Electricity flows all over my body in his words alone. I gasp at how my body reacted to him. He didn’t even touch me. I don’t know if it is even possible. Unless, of course, he is using a black magic spell on me.
My inner self chuckle with my own thoughts. What’s up with me thinking that a billionaire would use black magic to make my knees tremble if he could do it effortlessly?
Master Brandon pulls back, then he turns around. “Don’t forget the address. Bring it to me at dinner.”
He walks away, leaving me breathless and unsettled.
It is afternoon when Madam Lennie comes to my kitchen while I’m preparing dinner for the almighty Master.
I have been ill at ease for the last few hours. I’m bothered by his actions earlier. He was too dark. He’s unfathomable. And he was wearing a mask. Yet, I’m still enthralled.
“You seem troubled,” Madam Lennie observes.
“I just spoke with the person who has hidden from the world all his life. Maybe I just couldn’t get over it,” I answer while stirring the corn and kernel cheese soup I’m making.
“How did it go with the Master?” she asks glacially.
“He signed the contract and we spoke of a few things before breakfast, but his mood changed so suddenly. He walked out on me.”
“Is that all?” she asks curiously. “Did you do something odd again that angered him?” she questions.
“Nothing, believe me, Madam.”
“Well, your talent in cooking is unquestionable, but you are rather clumsy at times,” she inserts in a flat tone.
Is she scolding me now or something?
“This time, I don’t think I did anything.” I stop and turn the stove off. I pick up the pot and transfer the soup to the bowl.
“That smells nice,” Madam Lennie remarks.
“Thank you.” I lift the bowl and move it to the island, so I can prepare it with the rest of the dish. “Madam, you know... I didn’t like how he didn’t even eat his breakfast,” I continue, unsure why I’ve suddenly talked to her. “I dressed up for it, and I felt insulted. I couldn’t help but get mad. I had a reason, then he told me I needed to behave? I think that applies best to him.”
She tenses up. “It’s been a long time since the Master locked himself from the world. You are the first person who made him come out after a decade. What does he look like?”
“He’s tall and—” I pause. Oh, no! I remembered I wasn’t supposed to say anything to Madam Lennie. I promised to keep my mouth shut. Unfortunately, I just told her half of everything. What’s holding you back?
“He’s fine,” I add.
“He’s fine? Are you blind, young lady? The master is good looking, isn’t he?”
I look at her in surprise. I didn’t expect those words from her.
But yes, he is. I thought he was beautiful by looking at the unmasked side half of his face, but I decide not to tell her the Master was wearing a mask.
“Madam, don’t say that aloud,” I hiss. “He might hear you. It might get into his head.” I shake my head in disbelief. Besides, I shouldn’t care what he looks like.
“Your reaction showed enough attraction,” she points, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I don’t. The content of his character doesn’t even allow me to consider his physical traits.”
“But I hope this will make you realize that our Master isn’t cruel. He won’t bother himself this much just for a piece of information.”
“I understand.” I slip my hand in my pocket and feel the paper on my palm—the piece of paper he needs. I wrote Lucia’s whereabouts here.
“I should go now, Miss Hart. I still have things to do. Hurry with that soup.”
“Yes, Madam Lennie.”
I go to the Master’s room at precisely seven in the evening. It is his usual dinner time. Tonight, I cooked Greek tangerine beef and a bowl of soup. I bring the signed documents of our contract with me as well.
I knock thrice. “Master, your dinner is here,” I call loudly.
I don’t bother waiting for an answer. I push the door open, then drag the food trolley in. The room is surprisingly bright when I enter. I didn’t notice that his private space was spotless and enormous before. It looks like a house inside another house. He even has his own living room.
“Master? Hello?” I call, but he doesn’t answer. The silence is deafening.
“Master? The soup will get cold.” I stroll toward the bedroom, but it’s just an empty bed. My shoulders fell. “Ugh, God. I really need a massage. My shoulders are killing me,” I complain as I massage my shoulder.
“You should get one.” I jump in surprise upon hearing his husky voice behind me. When did he come in? I spin around to see him. He is wiping his wet hair with a white towel wrapped around his waist, but I still can’t see his face because he covers it with a towel.
But what startled me the most is...
Is that a scar on his right chest? Man, of course, I notice how sexy he is. I always have, but I just can’t seem to ignore it. I immediately look away, but the image of it has already imprinted in my mind.
It’s a keloid scar, slightly pink, thick, spread across his shoulder blade.
What happened to him? It doesn’t look like a scar you got from an accident. It seems somewhat like burn scars that were made... on purpose.
“I’ll give you a pass to the spa I own near my office building. Do you know where my company is?”
“Yes, I know where it is.”
“I’ll give you gift cards.”
Carefully, I lift my head but avoid looking at his face. “Thank you for your generosity.” I force a smile.
“Is that how you thank people? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“By nothing, did you mean my scar? I need you to go out of my bedroom,” he instructs. “Unless you want to watch me put my pants on. Wait for me in my living room.”
I wonder what it’s like to see him nude all over again. Now, it won’t be just his sexy back. I’d love to run my fingers over his stomach...
Stop, Alayna! What did I just think? When did I become so aggressive? I groan inwardly and decide to just leave.
Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to get out of his room. He sits on the couch in front of me. He looks normal, but not too normal—just a barefoot man in his black shirt, gray sweatpants, and a mask.
Does he possibly have a scar on his face too? Is that why he keeps on wearing a mask?
“Here.” He hands me gold cards with the logo of Grethe and Elga Enterprises on it.
“Thank you.” I look up and smile. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Just do your usual.” He walks to the couch and sits, then he grabs the book from the side table. I follow him and slump in the lounge next to him.
“What are Grethe and Elga?”
“It’s not what. It’s who,” he corrects.
“Who are they then?”
“Too hungry for information, Miss Hart?”
“No. It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”
“It is my mother and my sister’s name. Well, it was.”
“Oh, no. What happened?”
“They died ten years ago,” he informs bitterly.
Ten years. Oliver said that was a decade ago when he started hiding in the world. Is it possible that his family’s death is the reason?
I feel all the blood rush to my face. I know how hard it is to lose someone. When my father died, I felt like my world fell apart. I thought I wasn’t going to survive. I was so depressed, I felt like dying. “I’m so sorry. Really. It must be so hard for you. But how about your father?”
His brows furrow. “I don’t talk about him.”
“My father died too,” I mumble, involuntarily.
But surprisingly, he sounds genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I have twelve siblings to take care of her at home.”
He nods. “And you’re the breadwinner.”
“Since my father died.” I shut my eyes; my breath quickens. “I’m sorry I’m talking too much.” I don’t know why I’ve suddenly opened up. Maybe it’s because I can see the sadness in his eyes. We aren’t too different in this field after all.
His gaze softens. “It’s alright.”
“Oh, before I forget...” I slip my hand in my pocket, then grab the folded piece of paper. “I have Lucia’s information.” He hasn’t explained why he’s looking for her, yet I’m willing to give the information away. Well, he wouldn’t bother if it’s not important to him.
“Wait,” he halts.
My hand automatically pushes back into my pocket. “Yes?”
“Keep it, or maybe give it to Oliver instead. I don’t think I’m ready. Yet.”
I don’t completely understand what he meant. He even offered a price for this and signed a contract. “I thought you needed this?”
“Ollie will take a look at it,” he dismissed instantly. “Where’s the contract?”
I guess that’s when I should stop any further questions though I’m inquisitive.
“Oh. Here.” I pick it up from the food trolley and give it to him.
He nods, doesn’t bother to check the content, and puts the folder on the side table.
I hold the trolley’s handlebar in an attempt of leaving him alone, but he stops me.
“Wait.”
“Yes?”
“You don’t mind, right? Joining me for dinner?” he doubtfully asks.
I smile but slightly astonished. “Not if you’re going not to walk out on me.” I shrug.
“I won’t. I promise.”
THE AWKWARDNESS IS undeniable. The world takes its time spinning, and everything seems to be in slow motion.
I clear my throat. I want to ask him why he asked me to have dinner with him. He doesn’t socialize with other people, but he can actually eat with someone comfortably. This might be the first time he shared tables with somebody.
“Stop staring,” he says softly.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I look away quickly. “But if you don’t mind me asking—”
“I was wondering when your next barrage of questions was coming.” He continues to eat delightfully.
I can’t help but notice how gorgeous he is, even if it’s only half of his face. It’s just too bad he’s wearing a mask.
I search for any mark or scar that might have slipped out a little, but I see nothing. Maybe he has hidden it faultlessly. Or perhaps not. I’m not even sure if he really had a scar there.
“I told you to stop staring.” He meets my gaze this time, jolting me back to reality.
“I was wondering why you asked me to eat with you,” I say swiftly, then close my eyes.
“Why do you ask?”
“It’s just... You don’t go outside your room and never meet with other people, but you can comfortably eat with someone.”
He laughs as if I just said something hilarious. “I’m not sure if it’s funny or insulting that you’re basically describing the life of a beast,” he chuckles. “To feed your curiosity, I eat with Oliver every single night, Miss Hart.”
“Of course. How thoughtless of me.” I chuckle fretfully. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Lucien—I mean, Master. It’s really hard to call you Master.”
“You can call me whatever you like.”
I’m slightly stunned at his reaction and how he is surprisingly calm about it. “Thank you, but I’d rather call you Master. Madam Lennie might hear me calling you whatever I like.”
“The dinner was great.” He puts down his empty plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Thank you, Miss Hart.”
“You’re welcome. So...” I clear my throat. “If you need anything, you can just call me.” I’m done with mine as well, so I finally stand and start clearing the table.
“You’re leaving?” he asked, sounding confused.
“Yes, thank you for letting me share the meal with you, and I’m sorry again about your mom and sister.”
He nods and springs up as well, walking to the couch.
Lying on my back that night, I stare at the ceiling of my room feeling delightful. Deep inside, I know and feel that the Master has a good and generous heart, but he makes me think about him too much.
I roll to my side, resting my head on my arm. I still have too many unanswered questions about him. What is he hiding beneath the mask? Are there scars? Did someone hurt him? How did his family die?
I exhale in frustration. It’s not that I even care. I’ve only known him for a very short time. I’ve barely talked to him, but he is kind to me. I finally doze off, picturing the Master taking his mask off as the lights dim.
“ALAYNA, I DIDN’T EXPECT you to be this early.” Oliver waltzes into my station in his running outfit the next morning. A white towel is hanging on his shoulder, and one bud of his earphones is still in his ear. Judging by his looks, he’s probably going for a run.
“Good morning, Oliver. Going for a run?”
“Yes, my morning routine.” He glances at the small bowl I’m holding. “Oh, you’re making crêpes.”
“Yep, and I made a syrup. My own recipe,” I brag, smiling. “Strawberry this time.” I lift the spoon and taste it. I circle my tongue as I savor the sweet taste of honey and strawberry. My most favorite flavor of all. “I think this is good.”
I put three layers of crêpes on a plate, then pour the strawberry syrup on top. Oliver is watching me as I put bacon and eggs on another plate.
“Let me help you.” Oliver transfers the plates to the trolley, then opens the fridge and takes a pitcher of water and lemon. He slices the lemon into thin strips and drops the slices in the water. “And since you’re officially his private chef, and this is not listed on the schedule, give him this every Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays. He works out after breakfast, and today is Friday.”
“Work out?” I frown, confused. “Oh, of course. He has his gym in this house. I’m so silly.”
“Yes.” He smiles. “All done! Off you go.”
“Thank you.”
“Alayna, I’ve noticed you haven’t been outside since you came here.”
I look up at him with a frown. “Oh, yeah. I haven’t, right?”
“You know you should go out sometime and see the city. I thought you said you’ve never been to New York before.”
“I actually haven’t thought of going out. But you’re right, I’ve always wanted to see the city. Master actually gave me a gift card to one of the spas nearby. I might use it.”
Oliver’s forehead wrinkles. “He gave you a pass to the spa?”
“I was a little surprised too, but who am I to refuse?”
“What did I tell you? He’s a good man.”
I shrug. “I think so now.”
“Maybe I’ll drop you off at the spa,” Oliver offers. “I’m going to the city tomorrow anyway. But only if you like.”
“You will do that?”
“Of course.” He beams.
“Yeah, sure. I’d love to.” I chuckle nervously.
“Oh, take that to him now.” His hand motions to the food trolley. “He’s probably done with his exercise.”
“Oh, right. Thanks for the tips, as always.”
He chuckles softly. “Don’t mention it.”
I push the trolley outside and carefully walk through the hallways. It is very early, and the house’s silence is deafening.
I knock on the Master’s door thrice but don’t hear an answer, so I step inside. The dimness of the light in his room added the feeling of crispness, tempting me to light up the fireplace and settle on the couch with a cup of coffee. I even imagine myself sitting with the Master. The thought alone makes me feel giddy.
I find the air-conditioner’s remote control on the table, and I lower the temperature, so the food won’t cool down. I then set his breakfast on the table by the window.
“Alayna?”
My head shot up, jolting a little when I heard my name coming from his deep voice. I love it when he says my name. I finally see the Master in front of another door.
Still concealed by a mask, the Master is bare on top, and his chest is glistening with beads of his sweat. He is only wearing gray sweatpants that define his shapely torso. A white towel hangs on his shoulder. My throat dries up at the sight of him. His muscles are ripped, hard, and I instantly ache to run my fingers on his chiseled abs. He is simply breathtaking.
“I brought you your breakfast,” I try to speak nonchalantly.
He is panting heavily, and his gray eyes are looking directly at mine. “Hmm, thank you.” He paces towards me and checks the food. “You can leave now, Miss Hart.”
I suddenly thought of telling him about going out this weekend with his cousin. “Master, if I may, could I take a short break tomorrow? It’s Saturday.”
“It’s fine. I won’t call you on your rest day.” Of course, no reasonable employer should call you during your rest day.
I smile, satisfied with his answer. “Thank you, Master. Oliver actually offered to drop me off at the spa.”
His brows furrow. “Oliver offered?”
“Yes, since he said he’s going to the city tomorrow anyway.” I feel like I have to explain. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea. “Is this alright?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
I grin in victory. “Thank you, Master!” I clasp my hands together. “Oh, you should eat your breakfast while it’s still hot. I’m sorry, I was late. Oliver told me that you work out after breakfast.”
“I don’t work out after breakfast. I work out before.” He opens the lid and slightly sniffs the smell. I think I see him smile a little.
And I still can’t stop grinning, too excited for tomorrow. “Oh, maybe he just misspoke.”
I watch him settle on the seat and pick up the utensils but still doesn’t touch the food. “You may leave, Alayna. You can pick up the dishes later,” he says in a glacial tone, and quietly, I leave his room again. But something inside me doesn’t want to.
