Virgin At 25 Chapter 20: THE ACCIDENT

Novel: Virgin At 25 Author: Kessta Updated:
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The first thing I felt was warmth, the soft weight of the duvet wrapped around , the faint scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air. It didn’t sll like ho. It slled like Aec.

I stirred slightly, the sunlight creeping through the blinds and brushing across my skin. My nightwear felt loose, half unbuttoned, hanging off my shoulder and the room was too silent. Then I felt it... that feeling.... A stare.

My lashes fluttered open, and there he was standing by the window, arms crossed, eyes fixed on like I was so puzzle he hadn’t decided if he wanted to solve or forgotten.

"Good morning," I whispered, my voice low and unsure.

His gaze didn’t soften. Instead, his lips moved slowly. "How do you even make it work?"

My brows furrowed. "What?"

He tilted his head slightly, eyes still glued to . "I’m not surprised you’re always late to work."

That was when I shot up, my heart skipping. "Work?" My eyes darted to the clock on the bedside table. 8:46 AM. "Oh my God...no, no, no..." I scrambled up, searching for my phone, panic bubbling in my chest. "I’m so dead!"

"You’re not going to work," he said simply.

"What?" I froze, turning to him. "I have to go..."

"I already called your office," he cut in, voice calm but sharp. "Told them you’d be absent for the day."

I blinked. "You what?"

He looked at like it was the most casual thing in the world. "You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you."

Images flashed through my half-awake mory, him standing by the edge of the bed, phone in hand, murmuring sothing about an ’employee absence.’ I’d thought it was part of a dream. Turns out it wasn’t.

"You had no right to do that!" I snapped, anger flaring through the fog of sleep. "You don’t decide when I work or when I rest..."

"Did you enjoy last night?"

The question sliced through my words, freezing mid-breath, he kept on ignoring everything I was talking to him about by bringing up sothing that’d shut up.

My mouth opened, but nothing ca out. My head dropped, the air suddenly feeling too heavy to breathe. My fingers twisted the sheets, my cheeks burning as the silence stretched.

Aec’s lips curved, the faintest hint of a smile, sharp and mocking but... softer than before. It wasn’t warm, not exactly. But for the first ti, his face didn’t look carved out of ice.

"Before you go ho to rest," he said after a mont, his tone low and casual, "co downstairs. I’ll make you breakfast."

I blinked at him, surprised ofcourse. "You’ll what?"

"Make you breakfast." He turned toward the door, already walking away. "You look like you could use it. Last night must’ve drained you."

I froze.... Drained ? My throat went dry.

He paused by the door, glancing back. "You’ll need your strength for our next eting."

"eting?" I echoed weakly... I kept repeating his last words like I was stupid

He didn’t answer. He just gave that cold, unreadable look that sohow made my chest tighten, and started to leave. But before stepping out, he stopped again and faced fully.

"Learn to cover your chest," he said quietly. "Especially when I’m not there."

The door clicked shut behind him.

I looked down at myself and realized what he ant, my nightdress was still gaping open, revealing more than I’d intended. "Idiot," I muttered under my breath, quickly clutching the sheets to my chest as if that could hide the heat rising up my neck.

---

It took nearly fifteen minutes to calm down enough to move. I found a robe near the chair and wrapped it around myself before heading downstairs. The sll hit first, coffee, eggs, sothing buttery.

He was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled, wearing an apron that sohow made him look even more attractive. The way he moved was calm, efficient, completely in control, it was almost hypnotic. I leaned on the doorway, just watching him.

His hands were steady as he flipped sothing in the pan, his hair slightly tousled, his focus unbothered. My lips tugged up before I realized it, a small, stupid smile.

"What’s funny?"

I jumped when I heard it.

He didn’t even look up, but his tone carried that quiet authority that made straighten imdiately.

"N-nothing," I stamred. "Just... nothing."

"Go wash your face," he said, still focused on the stove. "And brush your teeth. There’s a new set in the second drawer by the sink. Pick whichever you like."

I blinked, a little surprised at how dostic his voice sounded, firm but almost... gentle? No, that couldn’t be right. Aec wasn’t gentle. He was cold, commanding, and emotionally unavailable but right now, he was making breakfast and telling to pick a toothbrush.

I didn’t argue.

When I ca back, the table was already set. He was plating the food, golden scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee that slled heavenly. I sat across from him, watching him work, every small gesture quiet but deliberate.

The silence between us wasn’t awkward anymore. It was... comfortable. Strange, but comfortable.

He caught staring once.

"Stop looking at like that," he said, voice low.

"Like what?"

He didn’t answer, but his eyes flicked up to et mine for half a second before returning to the food.

When he finally set the plates down, I followed him to the dining table like a shy kid following a parent. He sat, ate quietly, barely looking at .

I couldn’t stop rembering last night, his voice, his closeness, the way my heartbeat refused to slow when he was near. My lips twitched again before I caught myself.

"What are you smiling at?" he asked suddenly, not looking up.

I froze. "Nothing."

He gave a small hum, not quite disbelief, not quite acceptance and went back to his coffee.

---

After breakfast, I started gathering the plates.

"I’ll wash them," I offered quietly.

He didn’t argue, just walked beside to the kitchen. I washed while he rinsed. Neither of us spoke and the silence was full but not heavy.

Then we heard a knock,we both froze mid way...

He wiped his hands on the towel, starting toward the door, but I spoke up. "I’ll get it."

His brow arched slightly but he didn’t stop . I wondered why he kept agreeing to everything I said but it was interesting.

I dried my hands quickly and walked to the front door. When I opened it, a woman stood there tall, elegant, her beauty refined by age. Her dress scread class, her perfu flooded the doorway before her voice did.

She looked over once from my ssy hair to my robe and her expression twisted slightly, like she’d just caught a bad sll.

"Who are you?" she asked, her tone crisp and edged.

"I—uh—" I hesitated. "I’m—"

She didn’t wait. She brushed past and walked straight inside like she owned the place.

My mouth hung open for a second before I followed her in.

"Aec!" she called, her voice smooth but commanding.

Aec appeared from the kitchen, drying his hands with a small towel. The mont his eyes t hers, his entire aura shifted. The warmth what little there had been evaporated instantly. The cold Aec returned.

The man standing there wasn’t the sa one who’d made breakfast.

The woman gestured toward , her eyes narrowing. "And who is this?"

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze slid to expression blank and his tone unreadable.

Then like he was seeing for the first ti, he opened his out and...

"Get out."

The words hit like a slap.

I blinked trying to believe... "What?"

"I said get out," he repeated, voice calm and deadly. "Now."

My mouth opened, but no sound ca. My chest tightened, humiliation rushing in like a flood.

The woman turned to , clearly amused. "Oh, you’re waiting to get paid?" she said sweetly, reaching into her bag. "Let help with that."

"I... what?" I started, but she was already pulling sothing out, cash, probably. I felt my eyes sting. I turned away quickly, heading for the door, but her next words made stop.

"Well," she said with a light laugh, "that’s a proud one, Aec. Among all your won, she’s got high standards."

I turned back sharply, anger finally burning through the sha. "Excuse you, ma’am, I..."

"You’re just a fuck girl," Aec interrupted, his voice cold and even. "You do what you’re told. Now leave."

It was like every piece of air left my lungs.

I just stared at him. The sa man who’d smiled this morning. The sa man who’d told to eat. The sa man who’d made breakfast.

My hands trembled as I turned and walked out the door. No phone. No bag. Nothing. Just humiliation wrapped in thin nightwear. I stood for a few minutes outside trying to comprehend the whole scenerio but I still could not place things right

Behind , the door opened again but I didn’t look back until sothing heavy landed beside , a black jacket. Aec threw it at and shut the door again, I stared at it for a mont, then at the closed door. Slowly, I picked it up and slipped it on, I had no choice. The pockets felt thick and there was money inside. Of course there was.

I let out a shaky breath, blinking back tears. "So that’s what I was, huh," I whispered. "Paynt received."

The street was quiet, the morning air sharp against my skin. I started walking, eyes blurry but steady on the road ahead. One step then anothe but each steps felt so heavy...

I didn’t understand what was going on but I heard a horn.

Too fast, obviously too close.

My heart jumped into my throat. I turned... The sound hitting before the pain did.

A crash then a scream that didn’t sound like mine, I didn’t scream but I got hit...

The world went numb to , and the last thing I saw was the faint glint of sunlight bouncing off the car’s hood before everything went dark.

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