Lilia couldn't believe this man—his actions, his words. How could he say sothing so improper, so shaless, and yet so casually? Oh goodness, what was he even thinking? Was this what he called fun? Her mind raced, trying to process everything, but it only left her more flustered. She shook her head, finally finding her voice.
"Mr. Zethan, please. This is highly inappropriate," she said, biting her lip to hold back the frustration threatening to spill over.
His response was imdiate, his tone firm and entirely unbothered. "Do you need to remind you that rules are made by ? And I am the one who enforces them."
Her breath hitched as her fingers clenched into fists at her sides. Lilia bit back a retort, knowing it was futile to argue with soone like him. This man was arrogance personified, and the last thing she wanted was to provoke him further. Still, she kept her composure, even though the tension in the room felt almost suffocating.
Then he stood. The movent was slow, deliberate, and calculated. Each step toward her sent her instincts into overdrive. Without realizing it, she moved backward until her heels brushed against the cold surface of the wall behind her.
"Don't co any closer," she said, her voice sharper now, though she struggled to mask the unease growing within her.
He stopped, tilting his head slightly. The smirk playing on his lips was infuriating, almost mocking. "Or else?"
Her words froze on her tongue. What could she say? What could she do? Her body was tense, her mind scrambling for an answer that didn't co. His smirk deepened, darker now, as he took another step forward.
She felt her back press harder against the wall as her escape routes dwindled. Before she could react, his deep, unsettling voice cut through the silence. "I'm sure you're aware," he said, his tone calm yet laced with an unsettling edge, "that our engagent is tomorrow night."
Lilia's heart plumted at his words. It felt as though soone had knocked the air out of her lungs. Engagent? The very thought was absurd. Her hands gripped the folds of her gown tightly as she shook her head, her voice faltering as she spoke. "I know you don't want this, Mr. Zethan. You can tell —did my father say sothing to...."
She regretted the question the mont it left her lips. His laugh was sharp, cold, and void of any real amusent. It sent a shiver down her spine, making her realize she had said the entirely wrong thing.
Zethan leaned slightly closer, his tone dripping with mockery as he echoed her words. "Your father?" He chuckled again, as if the thought was laughable. "I was minding my own business, and then you pointed at ."
Now, she was beginning to regret her actions. She was certain he would use this as an opportunity to tease her rcilessly.
He brought a hand to his chin, as though replaying the scene in his mind "And then the spotlight was on ," he continued, his voice dripping with feigned reminiscence. "What did you expect to do, little Loris? Ignore it? Not like I couldn't just end it right there. But..." He paused, a dark gleam in his eyes as his lips curled into a sinister smile. "I found it fun. You're not boring after all."
His laughter grated against her nerves, each sound cutting deeper than the last. Lilia clenched her fists tighter, her nails digging into her palms as she resisted the overwhelming urge to lash out. She wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face, but she knew better than to act on impulse.
"Fine then," he said finally, his tone as dismissive as if he were swatting away a fly. "We'll familiarize ourselves after the engagent, as you suggested."
Before she could respond, he moved swiftly toward the door. Her eyes widened in shock—how had he crossed the room so quickly?
"Rest well, little Loris," he said, his deep voice echoing ominously in the room. With that, he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
The mont he was gone, Lilia exhaled shakily, only now realizing she had been holding her breath. Her heart pounded in her chest, her hands trembling slightly as she pressed them against the wall to steady herself.
"What is wrong with that man?" she muttered under her breath, pacing the room to shake off the lingering tension.
Her gaze drifted around the lavish bedroom, finally landing on the ornate mirror near the dresser. She decided she needed to freshen up. If she was going to escape, she needed to do it properly. Heading toward the dresser, she opened the drawer, searching for makeup remover. Inside, she found an array of beauty products—far more extravagant than anything she was used to. The kinds of things her sister would adore. The kinds of things girls who loved aesthetics craved.
But Lilia wasn't like her sister. She paid them no mind, focusing instead on cleaning her face. The cold sensation of the makeup remover against her skin brought a sense of clarity, washing away not just the remnants of the evening's event but also so of her lingering anxiety.
Once her face was clean, she felt a little freer. Reaching into her gown pocket, she retrieved her phone and tossed it onto the bed. The center of the bed was still slightly disheveled, a reminder of Zethan's earlier presence.
"Go have your bath, dress, and escape," she told herself firmly, heading toward the bathroom.
But just as she entered, her body froze. The sight before her was breathtaking. This bathroom was every lifestyle blogger's dream—the kind she'd seen on "Everything Showers" posts. The faint lavender aroma in the air, the soft glow of scented candles, and the enormous tub filled with steaming water all made it feel otherworldly.
She tried to focus, but the allure of the space was too strong to ignore. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to move forward. Tugging at the tight knot holding her gown, she struggled for what felt like an eternity until it finally gave way, and the heavy fabric pooled around her feet.
Hissing softly, she rolled her ankles and stretched her arms, trying to ease the soreness that had built up from wearing the stiff attire for hours. Stepping out of her undergarnts, she carefully climbed into the tub, sighing deeply as the warm water enveloped her body.
The tension in her muscles began to dissolve, the soothing scents lulling her into a sense of peace. For a fleeting mont, the escape plan she had been obsessing over seed far less urgent.
'No, Lilia, focus on the plan' she scolded herself. But even as she thought it, her mind betrayed her resolve, drifting into the comfort of the mont.
By the side of the tub, she noticed a cucumber face mask. She peeled the wrap off, applying the cool mask over her face. Maybe it would soothe the faint redness from her mother's earlier slap—another sharp, burning reminder of the day's events.
For a while, Lilia simply soaked, her body still, her thoughts drifting aimlessly. But soon, guilt clawed its way back into her mind, snapping her out of her haze. She jolted upright in the water, glaring at it as though it were to bla for her lapse in focus.
"What are you doing, Lilia?" she muttered under her breath.
Stepping out of the tub, she grabbed a towel and quickly dried off, the smooth fabric brushing against her skin in hurried, determined strokes. Wrapping the towel tightly around her, she strode toward the wardrobe, her steps purposeful.
Inside, she found an array of elegant gowns and luxurious nightwear. Each garnt was beautiful, but none were practical. Her eyes finally landed on a simple white nightgown—loose, plain, and unrestrictive. Perfect for what she needed. She dressed quickly, tying her hair back into a tight knot.
Now ready, she approached the door with purpose, her hand outstretched. But just as she was about to open it, a thought struck her.
My phone.
Spinning on her heel, she hurried back to the bed, where the phone lay in the center. Climbing onto the mattress to retrieve it, she froze for a mont. The bed was impossibly soft, the plushness threatening to swallow her whole.
She shook her head, trying to focus, 'Just grab your phone, Lilia. Just grab it and leave'
But the bed seed to whisper to her, coaxing her into its embrace. As she clutched the phone in her hand, her eyelids grew heavy, the weight of the day pressing down on her.
Five minutes, she promised herself, sinking into the mattress. '"Just five minutes won't hurt." she whispered.
And before she knew it, she drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
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