83
~Belinda’s POV
I lay back against the pillows, the sheets still tangled around my legs, my breathing slowly calming down. My heart was steady now, but a strange kind of satisfaction settled deep in my chest. I turned my head and looked at Richard, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on his pants with shaking hands. His back was tense, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.
He wasn’t saying anything yet, but I could feel the tension rolling off him like heat. The air between us was thick, suffocating almost, like a storm waiting to explode. He sat on the edge of the bed, back stiff, fingers twitching nervously against the sheets. His head was in his hands, shoulders hunched like the weight of what we just did was pressing down hard on him. I leaned back against the pillows, still catching my breath, my heartbeat beginning to settle, but his wasn’t. His body language scread panic.
His silence didn’t last long.
"Miss Belinda..." he finally said, voice low and shaky. The way he said it, like I was suddenly so distant figure, not the sa woman he’d just kissed and touched like his life depended on it, made sothing sour twist in my stomach. "We shouldn’t have done this."
I didn’t respond. Not at first.
He turned slightly, eyes darting to like he was too afraid to look directly but too ashad not to. "If the Alphas find out..." he swallowed hard, voice catching like it hurt to say it out loud, "I could die. They could kill , Miss Belinda. At the Alphas’ sword. Just like that."
I scoffed, rolling my eyes with a bitter laugh. "And who exactly is going to tell them? You?"
His eyes widened, panic flaring in those soft brown irises. "No! Of course not... what do you take for?" He looked genuinely horrified at the idea, like I had accused him of the ultimate betrayal.
"Then stop acting like a scared little rat," I snapped, pulling the sheet tighter around my body and sitting up straighter, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "No one’s going to find out unless you grow a conscience overnight and run your mouth."
He stood up suddenly, running a hand through his hair. "I can’t keep doing this. I want to stop."
"Stop?" I raised a brow at him. "Stop what, Richard? Sleeping with ? Being useful for once in your miserable life?"
His lips parted, but nothing ca out.
"You don’t get to say that," I said firmly. "Not after what just happened. Not after all the things you’ve done behind closed doors. You don’t get to grow a heart now and decide you’re done. We’re not done, Richard. Not until I say so."
He looked down, ashad. "I didn’t an to make it go this far."
I chuckled darkly. "Oh, please. You were begging for it the mont I touched you. Don’t act innocent now."
"I should go."
"You should," I said coldly, pulling the sheet off and reaching for my robe. "Put on your clothes and get out."
He didn’t argue. He just nodded like a scolded puppy and rushed to finish dressing. Within seconds, he was out the door.
The mont it shut behind him, I sank back into the bed, smiling.
Finally.
It felt like a small victory. Sothing about how desperate he had been, how afraid he looked when I said Damon’s na, it gave a rush. For once, I was in control. And it felt good. So damn good.
I laid there for a few minutes, just soaking in the quiet, staring at the ceiling with a satisfied grin on my face. Then I sat up slowly, tying the robe around my waist, and walked to the bathroom.
I turned on the tap and let the warm water run into the bathtub. The sound was soothing. I poured in a little scented oil and watched it swirl, steam rising gently as the water filled the tub.
As I sank into the bath, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. My muscles relaxed, and I felt the tension ease out of my limbs.
But my mind wasn’t still. It never was.
One thought kept circling back, louder and clearer than anything else:
It was ti to deal with Lisa.
I opened my eyes, a wicked smile playing at my lips.
She’d been running her mouth too much lately. Always trying to get Damon’s attention, always acting like she was so pure and kind and perfect. I knew her ga. And I was tired of it.
She needed a reminder of where she stood.
After my bath, I dried off and changed into a silky nightgown, sothing soft and pretty but still commanding. I looked at myself in the mirror, brushed out my hair, and added a little gloss to my lips.
Then I walked back into the room and rang the bell.
A few seconds later, one of the maids ca in. She was new, young, timid. Good. She’d follow orders without questions.
"Yes, ma’am?"
"Bring so juice," I said. "Sothing cold. And two cups."
"Yes, ma’am," she nodded and disappeared quickly.
I walked over to the armchair by the window and sat, crossing my legs slowly, letting the silk of my gown slip a little off my shoulder. It wasn’t just about comfort now, it was about control.
The maid returned in less than three minutes, carrying a silver tray with a jug of juice and two crystal cups.
I glanced at the cups and then back at her. "Good. Now bring Lisa."
She blinked, confused. "Lisa, ma’am?"
"Yes, Lisa," I said slowly, like I was speaking to a child. "Tell her I want to see her. Now."
"Yes, ma’am," she said again and hurried out.
I poured the juice carefully into both cups, the rich red color catching the candlelight. Then I waited.
A minute passed.
Two.
Then the door opened again.
Lisa stepped in hesitantly, wearing a simple dress, her hair tied back neatly. She looked like she’d been asleep or close to it.
"You wanted to see ?" she asked gently, standing near the door.
"Yes," I said with a smile, waving her in. "Co sit. I thought we could chat. You and I don’t get enough ti together."
Reviews
All reviews (0)