~ Clara’s POV ~
The beeping sound of a machine and hushed murmurs were the first sounds I heard in the background before finally fluttering my eyes open after so many unsuccessful attempt.
A bright light that i suspected was coming from a chandelier above stung my vision causing me to quickly shut my eyes again.
I blinked several times, squinting against the glare until the blurriness started to clear.
As my senses returned, the first thing I noticed was the smell, Lavender.
It was that familiar scent that always seemed to linger in the air whenever Miss Evelyn walked past me in the hallways.
I turned my head slowly to the left, then to the right.
The walls were a deep, muted color, and the furniture was far more massive and expensive than anything in my room.
The ceiling was high, and everything indicated that this wasn’t my room.
‘Where am I?’
“Miss Clara? You’re awake.”
I tried to sit up, but a sharp, pulsing ache throbbed behind my eyes, making the room tilt.
I groaned, pressing a hand to my temple as I sank back into the pillows.
“Careful,” a man’s voice said.
I realized then that the room wasn’t empty.
Lyla was there, standing at the foot of the bed, along with a doctor and two nurses in white gowns.
Lyla moved to my side, lifting my head slightly to hold a glass of water to my lips.
I took a few sips, the cool liquid helping to soothe the dryness in my throat.
But as the fog in my mind began to lift, the memories of the last night event began to rush back in.
I remember the wine Julian forced me to drink, the way his face had blurred into a distorted mask just before the world went black.
“Julian…” I breathed, then became frantic as i pondered on the aftermath of the blackout and what he might have done to me when I fell unconscious.
I looked at the doctor, my voice unreadable.
“What happened? Did he… did he touch me?” I asked, lifting the large duvet with trembling hands as I looked down at my body.
The doctor stepped toward the bed, looking at a chart before meeting my eyes.
“You were given a very strong sedative that put even the most massive elephant to sleep, Miss Clara. However, after a full examination while you were unconscious, I can confirm that you were not taken advantage of. Aside from the bruising on your arm, neck and the lingering effects of the drug, you are physically intact.”
A long, shuddering breath escaped me as I closed my eyes for a moment, the relief so intense it made my chest ache.
“Where exactly I’m I and where is miss Evelyn?” I asked after I’ve gathered myself while staring toward the heavy doors of the bedroom.
I needed to see her, i wanted to explain the threat Julian had made, to tell her exactly why I’d gone to that hotel, and to thank her for getting me out of there.
But most importantly I wanted to hear her voice, even if it was only to tell me how badly I’d messed up.
“Miss Evelyn is not here,” Lyla answered directly.
“She left the country on an urgent business trip shortly after you were brought back. Though She left instructions for the medical team to remain here until you were cleared to get out of bed.”
I stared at the empty side of the bed and the closed doors, wishing she would walk through them, but there was only the quiet of the room and the steady ticking of the machine monitoring my vitals.
As days passed, the silence of the mansion started to feel like a weight I couldn’t shake off.
Towards the end of the week, I was back on my feet, but I stayed mostly in my room after been cleared by the doctor.
Every time I stepped into the hallway, the lack of Miss Evelyn’s presence hit me like a physical blow.
I had kept my new phone with me every day and on the nightstand before I slept, the volume turned up so loud waiting and expecting a call or text from her, that every minor notification made my heart jump.
But the screen never showed her name.
I watched the rest of the household continue as if nothing had changed.
Some days I would see Lyla answering her phone, nodding as she took down instructions for the house.
I even heard the estate manager in the foyer the other day, speaking loudly as he confirmed some details Miss Evelyn was asking him on the phone.
She was calling the staffs and everyone from across the ocean, everyone in this house….except me. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
And whenever I passed a maid in the hall and heard her phone buzz, I looked down at my own hands, hoping I’d just missed a call or a text.
But my screen remained painfully blank.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I took the courage and dailed her number, my heart beating frantically in anticipation as i waited for her to answer but it just rang and rang until it went straight to voice mail.
I sat dejected on the edge of my bed in the dark, then a thought came into my mind that made me do something I had never done before.
I opened a browser and typed Miss Evelyn’s name into the search bar.
The results were a flood of business headlines and high-society gossip.
There was a photo of her from a day ago, taken at a gala in a foreign country.
She was wearing a structured black gown, her hair swept back, looking every bit gorgeous and stunning.
I zoomed in on the photo until her face filled the screen.
I felt My chest tightened with a sudden painful ache.
Even though I tried to deny what I felt when I watched those photos, I just couldn’t.
This feeling has been growing for awhile, turning into a yearning I could no longer pretend wasn’t there.
I missed her terribly, and not in a platonic way.
Strangely i missed the quiet, terrifying intensity of her gaze whenever she’s annoyed.
I missed her so much and just wanted her back home…..to me.
For the first time i allowed myself to feel the things I’d spent weeks burying…
The way my heart raced whenever we’re alone and in close proximity.
I know it wasn’t safe to feel this way, and it wasn’t professional, but in the silence of the house, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.
I closed the browser, but the image of her stayed burned into the back of my mind while i laid back against the pillows, the empty space of the room feeling twice as large as it had been five minutes ago.
By the seventh night, the silence of my room finally became too much.
A heavy storm had rolled in, and the sound of the rain lashing against the windows made the house feel even larger and emptier than it already was.
I couldn’t stay in bed, because every time I closed my eyes, the memory of what happened af Celeste hotel resurfaces, making my heart race in the dark.
I grabbed a thick knit throw from the chair and walked down the grand staircase
The foyer was dimly lit, the only light coming from the occasional flash of lightning.
I made my way to the main living area and sat on the long sofa.
I pulled the blanket around my shoulders and tucked my feet under me, staring out at the rain as it blurred the garden outside.
The storm was loud and steady, drumming against the glass that drowned out the creaks of the mansion.
As i watched the rain, my mind drifting back to the photos I’d seen of Miss Evelyn.
I wondered where she was, if it was raining where she was, and if she was getting any sleep at all.
I felt exhausted, the mental strain of the last week, the constant waiting for a phone call that never came, had drained me in a way the sedative never could.
I didn’t intend to stay there all night, i just wanted to be in a space where I could breathe.
But as the minutes passed, the sound of the rain started to feel heavier, pulling at my eyelids.
My head dipped toward the plush armrest, and my breathing finally slowed.
I didn’t fight it, I just pulled the blanket over my neck as I curled into the corner of the sofa, falling into a deep sleep for the first time since I’d woken up in her bed.
The scent was the first thing that reached me even in my sleep state.
It was faint, mixed with the smell of rain and cold night air, but it was unmistakable.
My mind was still heavy with sleep, but the sudden presence of someone hovering over me and of course that familiar scent made my heart give a small, fluttering kick against my ribs.
I felt a touch, cool and steady fingers gently touching my face and moving a stray lock of hair away from my face.
The movement was slow, almost hesitant, as if the person holding me didn’t want to break the silence.
I wanted to stay in that hazy middle ground, where the touch felt real and the fear of being alone was gone.
Then, I felt a soft, cool lingering pressure against my forehead.
It was a kiss.
I could feel her hands and the warmth of her breath on my face.
And that confirmed my suspicion that it was indeed a dream, one that made my heart melt with the touch.
But suddenly my eyes fluttered open.
Just to be sure i wasnt dreaming, i blinked several times but Miss Evelyn was really right there, inches away from my face and it wasnt a dream.
She was wearing her long black coat, her hair loose and cascading around her neck
Up close and thankfully with the help of the light coming from the moon outside I could see the faint shadows under her eyes but that didnt take way how stunning she looked..
For a split second, her expression was completely open, full of a raw, aching worry that she had never allowed me to see before.
But as soon as our eyes met, the warmth vanished.
It was like watching a curtain fall.
Her pupils contracted, and her features sharpened into a mask of cold indifference.
She pulled back instantly, standing up straight and smoothing out the front of her coat as if she hadn’t just been leaning over me.
“You should be in bed, Clara,” she said.
Her voice was flat, devoid of the tenderness I’d felt seconds ago.
She just looked down at me with eyes that had turned back into flint, treating me like a stranger she’d stumbled upon in her living room.
“Miss Evelyn…” I started, my voice small and thick with the remnants of sleep.
I pushed myself up, the knit blanket sliding off my shoulders, but she was already turning away.
“It’s late,” she interrupted, her tone sharp and professional.
“Go upstairs. We’ll discuss the mess you made tomorrow morning.”
She started to walk past me toward the stairs.
The transition from that soft, lingering kiss to this icy dismissal was so fast it made my head spin.
“Miss Evelyn,” I called out again.
Pushing one foot after the other, I walked briskly towards her.
I couldn’t let her go.
Not like this.
Catching up to her before she could reach the staircase and i wrapped my arms around her waist from behind, burying my face in the fabric of her coat.
The scent of rain and lavender filled my senses, a sharp contrast to the lingering fear in my gut.
“Miss Evelyn!” I cried softly, my voice cracking as sobs wracked my body.
Tears I hadn’t even realized I was holding back streamed down my face.
“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”
I clung to her, my grip tightening with every ragged breath.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting her to understand the desperation that had driven my decision, but mostly, that I didnt mean to lie to her and put her in such a tight position just to save me.
She stood there, rigid, under my desperate embrace.
She didn’t hug me back, but she didn’t pull away.
She just stood perfectly still, as I sobbed my apologies into her back.
Way to go Clara.
The first step to winning the heart of our ice queen is to admit you like her more than just a boss.
Do you think she would confess to Evelyn in the next chapter? let me know your answers in the comment box.