Runaway Heiress, Reluctant bride

“Darling, how was your trip?” he asked eagerly, a wide smile on his face.

I waited for the familiar embrace, the one he always gave me when I returned from a business trip. But instead, I smiled at the man who had raised me alone, giving everything he had. He had nothing when my mother left him for a wealthier man. To this day, I hoped I’d never see her again. I despised her for abandoning me, for abandoning him.

“Excellent, papa,” I replied, giving a promise that I would share all the details soon enough.

As the articles often stated, Sebastian Cruz was a renowned business tycoon—his name synonymous with power and success in the construction industry. While the Valera’s were known for their dominance in the hospitality sector, the Cruz family had made its mark in the building world.

“You’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you!” Sebastian Cruz exclaimed, walking beside me, his admiration obvious.

I could tell he was proud of my achievements—how could he not be? After all, I had worked tirelessly to meet his high expectations. I should have been proud of myself too. “I have a feeling there’s something you’ve been meaning to tell me since I stepped off the plane,” I said, watching his face carefully.

He shook his head, denying it, but I could tell something was troubling him. His stiff posture, the way his brow furrowed—it was all too clear.

“We’ll talk about it later, Isabella,” he said, but the way he said my name caused a jolt of concern. Usually, he called me by my nickname, which I hated, but Isabella ? That felt too formal, too distant.

“Alright, if you say so,” I replied, willing to let him speak when he was ready. He looked like he was already carrying a heavy burden, so I didn’t want to press him further.

We climbed into the convoy of black cars, which sped toward the private road leading to our estate— The Belleview. It wasn’t just a house; it was a castle, complete with five towering spires that stretched into the sky, surrounded by thick walls made of golden stone. The asymmetrical windows and spiked crenellations weren’t just for defense—they were there for aesthetic purposes. My father had always fancied himself a king, and the Belleview was his crown.

The castle was heavily guarded, but even so, there were hidden entrances known only to those who had lived here long enough to discover them. The iron gates loomed tall as we drove through them, passing a line of regal statues of kings who served as my father’s inspiration—proof that with hard work, determination, and persistence, anyone could achieve greatness.

The Belleview had been my home since I was ten. Before that, we had lived in a slum, scraping by. I was young then, but I still remember how hard my father worked to put food on the table. He started as a laborer, worked as a construction helper, and eventually became a mason. After years of toiling away in the field, he learned the real money was in construction.

In a desperate bid to turn our fortunes around, he gambled on a lottery ticket—and he won. The jackpot was a turning point. With the money, he invested wisely, and soon enough, he was building an empire. The rest, as they say, was history.

As we entered through the gates, I looked at my father and smiled. I promised myself then that I would do whatever it took to repay him for everything he had done for me. “Papa, maybe it’s time you found a wife,” I suggested playfully.

His hair was graying, but I knew it was the color he had chosen—it used to be a rich coffee brown that made him look much younger than his fortyseven years. I assumed several women would be eager to line up for the chance to be with him. He was still quite handsome for his age.

“No, it’s just a waste of time,” he replied with a shrug.

“Are you sure? Or are you still waiting for my mother to come back?” I teased, but my humor didn’t sit well with him. He frowned, his eyes turning away from me.

“I was only kidding, papa,” I said quickly, regretting my words.

“You’re right,” he muttered after a long pause.

I stared at him, shocked by his response. “Wait—are you serious? Oh my God, I can’t believe you, papa!” I shook my head, laughing incredulously. “I never thought I’d hear that from you!”

“It’s true love,” he reasoned, his tone soft but insistent.

“True love, my foot! If that’s what you call true love, then I don’t want any part of it!” I shot back, my words sharper than I intended.

“Isabella, you can’t say that,” he disagreed, his voice tinged with concern, but I just huffed in response. He had no idea what it was like to feel suffocated by expectations, to be tethered to a life you didn’t choose.

I was about to argue more, but we had arrived at the estate, and I didn’t want to risk the staff overhearing our argument. There could be a spy among the staff, and I couldn’t afford a scandal. Our business depended on maintaining the perfect image, and I wasn’t about to let a minor disagreement destroy that.

A uniformed woman followed me as I made my way toward the elevator, leading me to my bedroom. “How are you doing, Elena?” I asked warmly, trying to break the tension.

“Just fine, Miss Isabella,” she replied, her voice as timid as usual.

I rolled my eyes, trying to ease her nerves. “Come on, Elena, it’s just us here. No need for all the formality.” They were trained to be proper, to never act out of line, but I preferred it when they treated me like family. Elena had been with us for nearly fifteen years, and she’d seen me grow up. She was more than just a servant; she was a confidante.

Once in my room, Elena helped me with my bath. While she scrubbed my back, we chatted about everything and nothing. After a few minutes of silence, I found myself asking a question that I hadn’t really intended to voice out loud. “Do you think I’m happy with my life?”

Her gasp was immediate, and I could hear her pause. “You are Sebastian Cruz’s only daughter. Isn’t that enough to be happy?”

I could hear the wisdom in her voice, but it didn’t reach my heart. “You always have a clever answer, Elena.” I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “To be honest, I don’t feel like an heiress. That title is just a name. Without my father’s last name, I’m a nobody.”

Elena sighed, as though she understood, and I appreciated that. She’d been with us since my father’s rise to wealth, and I trusted her more than anyone else in the world. If my father ever decided to find a wife, I would happily recommend Elena to him. She deserved happiness just as much as anyone else.

After she helped me get dressed, I gave her a little something from my latest trip to Chicago. I had gone to meet with Victor Ramos, the renowned architect based in the U.S. His firm had caught the attention of our architectural division, and we wanted him on board. When our representatives failed to secure his signature, I knew I had to step in.

I was lucky. He agreed to work with us after a long conversation. It was only when I mentioned that my father had helped him when he was just starting out that things turned around. Victor said he remembered my father—how he’d helped him when they were neighbors, back in the old days before any of us had anything. I couldn’t recall those years, but I didn’t need to. What mattered was that he was coming to work with us. That was a win.

With a sigh, I walked over to the window after changing into a comfortable dress. From up here, I could see the ocean stretching endlessly. It seemed so close, yet the reality was I had to travel for more than an hour just to reach it.

Another sigh escaped my lips, and I sank back onto my massive bed. The firm had become my world, and home felt… empty. I often wondered if anyone would care about me if my last name weren’t Cruz. Without my father’s name, who would I be?

I had spent so many years trying to live up to his expectations, to make him proud. It was suffocating. But he was the only one who had ever loved me unconditionally, and I owed him everything. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

I was supposed to rest, but I couldn’t escape the swirling thoughts. At twentyeight, I was expected to be dating, to have a fiancé, but I had no interest in any of it. I refused to let anyone have power over me. Not now, not ever.

The sound of someone knocking on my door pulled me out of my thoughts. It was time for dinner. When I entered the dining room, I greeted my father as usual, but his expression was unreadable, stern even. “Papa, is something wrong?” I asked, sensing the tension.

“Not really,” he replied, though his tone suggested otherwise. “Isabella, can you be honest with me about your love life? Do you have a boyfriend, or are you dating someone behind my back? Just tell me.”

I pursed my lips, shaking my head. “I’m not interested in men, Papa.” My response stunned him, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at his reaction. “No, I’m not a lesbian!” I clarified, sensing the confusion in his eyes.

“Then why aren’t you interested in men? You’re already twentyeight, and at your age, I already had you. Look at you now!” He paused, his gaze shifting to something behind my eyes, something he didn’t want to say. “Well, I’ve arranged a deal with the Valeras , and you only have to marry their second son.”

My heart skipped a beat. I blinked several times, trying to process what he’d just said. “What? Why do I have to marry their son?”

“It will benefit the company,” he replied, his words firm.

“By using me?” I snapped, my anger rising. “Papa, how could you do this? We already talked about this. I don’t want to get married, I don’t want to start a family, and I absolutely don’t want anything to do with Adrian Valera!”

“I wanted his older brother, but he’s already engaged! We can’t break that engagement without causing problems for ourselves,” he explained, his voice pleading.

“When I said I didn’t want to get married or have a family, I meant it!” I insisted, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “Even if it strengthens our business, I won’t do it, Papa!”

He frowned, clearly disappointed by my decision, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he tried to soften the blow. “It’s business, Isabella. You know how these things work.”

I knew what he was thinking. He was pushing me into something I didn’t want. And then he dropped the bombshell. “Adrian Valera is coming to see you tomorrow.”

I froze. “Who’s coming?”

“Adrian and his family,” he replied, and I felt my resolve harden.

That was it. I had made up my mind. I would leave the castle. I would disappear, hide, until I could figure out how to escape this fate, this life my father had mapped out for me.

I stared at the empty space around me, still processing the fact that I had finally made the decision to break free. It felt surreal, yet, despite the exhilarating feeling of independence, a looming sense of poverty greeted me. Regret, I knew, would come at some point, but I couldn’t let my father’s relentless pressure to control my marriage hold me back—not when it involved someone as despicable as him.

“Are you okay?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked up at the man standing in front of me. My brain was slow to process his presence. As the COO of Cruz Architecture, meeting handsome men wasn’t exactly rare for me. But there was something about this stranger that immediately caught my attention—his athletic frame, and my gaze involuntarily lingered on the veins snaking down his muscular arms.

“I’m fine,” I replied quickly, standing up before his hand could touch my arm. “Please, just forget about me,” I added, brushing him off.

“Are you sure?” His concern felt genuine, and I hated him for it. “You seem lost. Are you new around here?”

He was being friendly, so the least I could do was not be rude. I contemplated walking away, but then an idea struck me. Maybe he could help me find a job. “Actually, yeah. My friend moved away, and now I’m looking for work.”

“I see,” he responded, studying me.

“I’m not a fraud!” I blurted out, my defensiveness getting the best of me. His eyes had scrutinized my appearance, from head to toe, and it made me feel uncomfortable.

“You must be from far away,” he observed.

“Yeah, you could say that. Do you know anyone looking for help around here?”

“I might,” he said thoughtfully.

“I’ll work for meals. I don’t need pay, as long as I can eat.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he said.

Excitement bubbled up inside me. “Can I get the address?” I asked eagerly.

“Well, I can give you a ride,” he offered, his voice low.

The moment he mentioned the ride, my skin prickled. What if he was some kind of criminal looking for his next victim? A chill ran down my spine, my heart racing as he stared at me. I quickly took a step back.

“I’m not sure I should take a ride with a stranger,” I said, the caution in my voice clear.

He stiffened, clearly offended. “I’m just trying to help. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.”

He gave me one last look and then turned to leave. But before I could react, he spoke again.

“Hurry up if you want to come with me.”

His tone was cold, and I had no choice but to hurry and keep pace behind him.

As we approached a sleek, black car, my eyes widened. A limited edition Lexus! Only a select few could afford such a vehicle, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d said something wrong for noticing. “Are you rich?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. It wasn’t the most tactful question, but I was too curious.

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice nonchalant as though owning a car like this was nothing special.

Despite my reservations, I climbed into his car. My instinct told me to be cautious, but I had no choice—my father’s people could be looking for me, and I couldn’t let them find me.

The roof was high, slanted, and covered In sleek black ceramic tiles, with two small chimneys jutting out from the side. It was a stunning modern design, and the wellmaintained garden only added to its beauty.

“This is my home,” he announced, pulling into the driveway.

A sudden sense of dread washed over me. “What do you mean, this is your home?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“You need a job. Well, I also need someone to help around the house—cook, clean, you know, the usual,” he said, as if it was no big deal.

“You’re joking, right? You didn’t mention anything about that in the car!” I retorted, my frustration bubbling to the surface.

“What’s the difference? You need a job, and I need help. It’s simple,” he shrugged.

“Wait, you want me to be your maid?” I asked, my voice incredulous.

He paused for a moment, his expression turning cold. “If you don’t want to work as my maid, you can always be my mistress.”

I felt my jaw drop. “Do you think I’m insane?” I snapped, the reality of the situation dawning on me.

“I’m just giving you an option,” he said, unfazed.

“So, either I work as your maid, or I become your… mistress?” I muttered under my breath, the words almost choking me. “You’re a despicable, arrogant bastard!”

“That sassy attitude of yours, when you’re penniless, might just change my mind,” he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

I dropped my gaze to the ground, suddenly feeling small. He was right. I had no leverage, no options.

“My father’s… he’s going to testify, and I can’t go back to him now,” I admitted, my voice faltering. “Please, help me,” I pleaded, hoping that he would show some compassion. But the truth was, I was terrified—terrified of being caught by my father’s men, terrified of facing the consequences.

“As I’ve said before, I need a maid,” he repeated, his voice unwavering.

I wasn’t sure I could handle the job.

But I was stuck in a situation where I had no choice. After all, it was just for a few months. “All right, I’ll do it,” I agreed.

I accepted his offer without thinking of the consequences. I was a quick learner, and I believed that if I applied myself, I could succeed at anything! Even though the idea of working as a maid terrified me, I had no other choice. I needed a place to stay, even temporarily.

“Are you certain?” he asked again, his tone serious. “It won’t be easy.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” I replied.

“It’s Leo,” he corrected.

“Elena at your service, sir,” I said, using the fake name I’d decided on.

He gave a small nod. “Just call me Leo.”

I couldn’t help but whisper, “What a cheesy name for someone like you.”

He raised an eyebrow, his irritation evident. “What did you say?”

I had my own reasons to be irritated. “Nothing,” I muttered. “By the way, how old are you, Leo?”

“Thirtytwo,” he answered coolly. “And you? Are you already eighteen?”

“Twentyeight,” I said, almost too quickly.

He stared at me, his eyes widening with disbelief. “Eighteen? Seriously?” He then scrutinized my face, making me feel selfconscious. “You’re pretty, and your legs are… impressive. But what caught my attention the most were your eyes. They’re so captivating. I wonder how they’d look under me.”

At first, I didn’t understand what he meant, but after a few seconds, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. My cheeks burned with anger. “I’m here to work as your maid, nothing more. No touching, no flirting, or I’ll file a harassment charge.”

“Whoa, you’re a sharp one, Elena,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

“I am,” I shot back. “So you’d better watch yourself.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider something, then he groaned but said nothing. He turned toward the door, as though to leave, but then stopped short. “It’s just you and me in this house,” he added, “and there are plenty of rooms. Pick whichever one you like. I’ll be back in a minute.”

His offer to let me choose a room instead of relegating me to the servant’s quarters was generous, but I couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how he’d left me in the dark about what was expected of me. Still, I obeyed and followed his instructions. He’d gone left, so that’s where I went.

“Hey, come here,” Leo called, his voice drawing the attention of a brunette who was seated nearby. Nervously, she stood and walked toward him.

Without a word, Leo wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered something in her ear. The woman nodded, and within moments, they were in bed. My eyes widened in disbelief as I watched him strip her of her clothes.

“Baby, spread your legs,” Leo ordered, his voice low and commanding.

The woman complied, her body arching under him. He sank into her, and I gasped, feeling a strange mix of anger and discomfort at the scene unfolding before me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, even though every instinct screamed at me to leave.

They moved together in a heated rhythm, the air thick with their moans. The woman’s voice echoed through the room as she called his name repeatedly. I wanted to run, but my feet felt as if they were cemented to the floor.

As Leo pulled away from her, I snapped out of my trance, panic flooding me. I turned to leave, but in my haste, I knocked over a vase from the console table. The sound of it crashing to the ground was too loud to ignore, and Leo’s head snapped toward the hallway.

I bolted down the corridor, but Leo was already on my heels. “Stop, or you’ll regret it!” he called after me, his voice sharp.

I didn’t dare look back, but Leo’s long strides quickly caught up to me. “I’m sorry, Leo. I got lost,” I lied, my heart pounding in my chest.

He scoffed at my excuse, clearly unconvinced. “What did you see?” he demanded.

“Nothing,” I lied again, my voice wavering slightly.

“Are you sure?” he pressed, his suspicion thick in the air.

I cursed under my breath. This man was relentless. “Fine. I admit it. I saw you with that brunette… doing things… like wild animals. Happy now? Can I leave?”

“Are you sure that’s all you saw?” Leo’s eyes darkened, and I could tell he didn’t believe me.

I let out a long sigh. “Yes, that’s all. Can I go now?”

Leo’s anger flared, and he took a step closer. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that, Elena.”

I met his gaze, unflinching. He was furious, but I didn’t care. “If you don’t want me here, just tell me, and I’ll leave.”

“No one leaves without my say so!” he bellowed, his voice booming down the hallway.

“I am not your prisoner!” I exclaimed, turning on my heel and walking away.

“Wait a minute!” Leo called after me, his voice filled with frustration. Every time he was disrespectful or insufferable, I regretted ever crossing paths with him.

“If you’ll show me to my room, I’d appreciate it. You know what? I’m not in the mood to argue right now. And if you want me to cook, you’ll let me take a nap first,” I added, crossing my arms.

Leo took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool, but I could see the flare of his nostrils as he fumed. “Of course, you’re welcome to my demands,” he muttered, his tone tight. He turned and started walking toward the hallway, gesturing for me to follow.

I couldn’t help but feel a little triumphant that he gave in to my request. Should I push my luck with another one? “I hope you don’t mind, but could you keep your voice down when… you’re with her?” I asked, not even bothering to hide my irritation.

Leo froze, and his jaw clenched when I used the word ‘fuck.’ He seemed genuinely taken aback. Well, it wasn’t new to me. I had heard worse, and the vulgar word no longer had the power to shock me.

“Whether I scream or grunt, it’s none of your business, Elena. Or do you want to experience it with me?” His taunt was laced with arrogance.

I knew he was trying to provoke me into submission, but I wouldn’t bite. Not now, not ever. Sebastian Cruz might have held power over me, but this man—Leo—had nothing on me. I’d do what I had to do for love, but no one, except my father, could boss me around.

“I’d rather please myself than do it with you,” I said firmly, my voice cold and defensive. It wasn’t an insult to his abilities, but more of a defense mechanism against his arrogance.

Leo’s face twisted with fury. “Oh, my God, just go to your room and don’t come out unless it’s to cook,” he snapped, storming off after he led me to the guest bedroom.

“Thank you,” I called after him, though I wasn’t sure if he even heard.

I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. How had I gotten myself involved with such an impossible man? When I opened the door to the room he had given me, I couldn’t help but be surprised. It was a beautiful space. Would his wife have been this kind to me? I doubted it.

The room was tastefully furnished with modern, sleek fixtures. The fourposter bed looked grand, and there were comfortable seating areas scattered around. As I moved toward the window, I noticed a beautiful view of the garden below.

It was considerate of him to let me use such a lovely room with access to the garden. For a moment, I actually felt a small pang of appreciation.

I stretched out my muscles, feeling the exhaustion in every fiber of my body, before sinking into the massive bed. It had been an exhausting day. The journey here, then meeting Leo—it was all too much.

Maybe it wasn’t such a horrible twist of fate after all. I had to admit, Leo had done more for me than most people ever had. But that didn’t mean I was going to let him walk all over me. Not for one second.

I closed my eyes, the fatigue from the long journey taking over my body. I had meant to set an alarm, but I was too tired to care. Let fate decide if I would wake up in time.

The sound of the clock ticking on the wall was the last thing I heard before sleep claimed me.

Hours later, I jolted awake in a panic. The faint glow of dusk trickled through the curtains, and I groaned. Dinner! I had overslept!

I scrambled out of bed, pulling on my shoes as I rushed to the kitchen. Sure enough, Leo was already there, his brow furrowed in frustration when he saw that his meal wasn’t prepared yet.

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized, my voice strained with embarrassment. “I overslept.”

He grunted in response, clearly unimpressed. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Elena,” he muttered. “By the way, I didn’t see anyone else except you and… your wife.” I figured I should ask, though I already had my suspicions.

“I don’t have a wife,” Leo replied shortly.

“Then who was that woman I saw earlier?” I pressed, trying to be nonchalant. “The brunette.”

“Oh, her?” Leo said, his voice almost bored. “She’s one of my mistresses.”

I blinked, my mind taking a moment to process his words. “Are you serious?” I asked, stunned. “How many are there?”

“Don’t ask if you don’t want to be one of them,” he replied, his tone colder than ice.

“Should I cook for all of them when they’re here?” I asked, mostly to gauge his response.

“No. They can manage on their own. Just cook for us,” Leo answered firmly.

“Okay, I’ll need about an hour to prepare dinner. You can come back then,” I told him, trying to hide my discomfort.

“Thirty minutes,” he bargained, his eyes narrowing. It was clear he was starving, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Fine,” I said with a sigh. My cooking skills were limited, but I would manage. At least, I hoped I would.

I had learned how to use the rice cooker pretty quickly. Isabella had shown me the basics, the things every woman should know before getting married. Although I wasn’t interested in marriage, I didn’t have the heart to refuse her lessons when she insisted so warmly.

Cooking rice was as easy as 1, 2, 3, but since Leo gave me only thirty minutes to prepare his meal, I had to work quickly. I checked both the pantry and the fridge, looking for something I could make within the time frame.

After heating up some oil, I crushed a few cloves of garlic. When the oil was ready, I added the garlic to the pan, careful not to let it burn. Before it had a chance to scorch, I added the corned beef, stirring it until it was well mixed before cracking a couple of eggs into the pan.

Perfect.

Once I plated the dish, I topped it off with a few onion rings and set it on the table. I checked the time—still fifteen minutes to spare. I went back to the fridge and grabbed a can of spam, slicing it into even pieces while heating more oil. It didn’t take long before the spam was sizzling in the pan. I served it with the rice.

Leo’s fridge was stocked with drinks, so I grabbed two cans of pineapple juice and added them to the table. The food was ready. The table was set. But Leo still hadn’t shown up. Instead of waiting around, I helped myself.

“What are you doing, Isabella?”

I nearly spilled my food when he suddenly appeared.

“Eating,” I replied nonchalantly.

“What’s that? Where’s my meal?”

“This is our meal. Sit down and eat,” I told him firmly.

“It’s unhealthy!” he complained.

“Then I’ll eat it all myself. Wait a moment; I’ll make you something healthier.”

I returned to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for fruits and veggies. When I found a cucumber, I knew it would be perfect. I peeled it, sliced it to perfection, and added a little mayo. Simple, but effective.

“What is this?”

“Your dinner. It’s healthy,” I replied, placing the plate in front of him.

“Are you trying my patience?” he asked, his voice sharp.

“Shhh, be quiet while we’re eating,” I reminded him. It wasn’t good etiquette to complain about the food, something I had learned from living in tough conditions.

“I’m going to die because of you,” he grumbled.

“It’s a pity. If you die, I’ll have to find another employer,” I joked, though I couldn’t suppress a smile. Teasing him over the smallest things gave me a strange sense of joy.

Fuming, he snatched the plate with the spam and began eating. “Try cooking something different and tastier in the morning,” he ordered.

“Okay, boss!”

We somehow survived dinner without an allout war. Leo was still furious, but I didn’t back down. I could tell he was frustrated, but it was hard to stop poking fun at him when he was so serious.

I thought I’d won.

After dinner, I was assigned the task of washing the dishes, while Leo retreated to the living room. I could hear the basketball game blaring from the TV, the volume so high it shook the walls. I couldn't believe that a man of thirtytwo could act like such a child. His parents must have had their hands full raising him—he was so different from anyone I knew.

Once I finished with the dishes, I decided to approach him. He turned toward me with a look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place. Was it desire? Lust? I wasn’t sure.

“Why don’t you give me a back massage?” he suddenly asked.

For a moment, I thought he had lost his mind. I stared at him, waiting for him to laugh it off as a joke. But he didn’t. He looked calm, as if it were completely normal for him to ask his maid for a massage. What a tyrant!

“Why should I?” I asked, trying to hide my disbelief.

“Because I’m tired,” he said simply.

“Then go to bed, take a hot shower, and rest,” I suggested. A hot shower would help him relax, especially after whatever he had been up to with the brunette earlier.

I turned to leave, ignoring his request, but then he sighed heavily, looking completely drained.

“Fine,” I muttered.

He glanced up at me with a look of satisfaction, clearly pleased that I had given in. I promised myself it would be the last time. I walked over to him and began massaging his shoulders. They felt stiff beneath my fingers.

“Back massage,” he repeated impatiently.

“I don’t want to hurt your back, Leo.”

“Come on, Isabella. Stop being coy and just do it!”

“I said no. You should respect that,” I replied, pressing my fingers gently to his temple. He let out a low moan, the sound strangely familiar, like something I’d heard before.

It was the same sound he made when he was with a woman. The realization hit me, but I couldn’t let it show.

I stopped massaging his head, preparing to leave, but I couldn’t help the way my mind raced.

He looked at me like I had made a monumental mistake. “Did I tell you to stop?” he asked, his voice laced with irritation.

I was supposed to answer him, but once again, I found myself captivated by his jetblack hair. It was silky and smooth under my touch. Even though I had already stepped back, I could still smell the faint fragrance of his shampoo. What was wrong with me? Since the moment we arrived at his place, there was something about him I couldn’t ignore.

Okay. I needed to breathe, relax. Inhale, exhale. I repeated the process a few times, trying to regain my selfcontrol. “I’m also tired,” I muttered, but as soon as I saw the way his eyes flicked up to meet mine, I regretted my words.

“Should I give you a massage as well?”

The way his gaze drifted over me made my skin crawl. Was I really living with a nymphomaniac? It terrified me, but I couldn’t let him smell my fear. “Never mind, Sebastian. A hot shower will do. Excuse me,” I said quickly, turning to leave.

“Stop right there!” he shouted, his voice startling.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Instead of responding, he started walking toward me. For a moment, a flash of fear gripped me—was he about to force himself on me? When he grabbed my wrists, I winced in pain. “Who do you think you are, Isabella? Why are you so arrogant?”

I avoided his piercing gaze. His brown eyes seemed to see right through me, as if reading every hidden thought, every secret I tried to bury. “Saying no isn’t arrogance, just so you know. You can’t demand things from me like that,” I snapped.

“Demand? Are you serious?” His voice was thick with disbelief.

“I’m serious. You’re trying to turn me into your sex slave!” I blurted out, the words escaping before I could stop them.

“A sex slave?” His laughter was almost mocking. “Why the hell would I need a sex slave?”

Before I could respond, he dragged me toward a room I recognized—where I’d caught him with a brunette earlier. I froze in shock.

“Who are they?” I asked, feeling my stomach twist with unease.

“My mistresses,” he replied nonchalantly, as though having multiple women around was perfectly normal, as if they were just casual acquaintances.

“Wwhat?” My voice faltered, struggling to process his words. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. He had how many women in this house?

“Now, tell me, Isabella,” he continued, his tone cool and demanding, “Do I need a sex slave?”

His question left me speechless. But even though I couldn’t find the right words, I couldn’t justify his actions either. I took a deep breath before facing him. “Maybe. Just because you have all these women here doesn’t mean you have the right to treat me like that.”

“God, you’re stubborn,” Sebastian muttered under his breath. One of the women in the room noticed us and waved at him, and the others followed suit.

“Be honest! Who are they?” I demanded, my patience wearing thin.

He narrowed his eyes, sensing my disbelief. “They’re mine. All of them,” he said, his tone that of someone claiming ownership over an object.

“Are you insane?” I shot back. “Are you some kind of sex addict?”

“Do you think I’m a sex maniac?” His tone had a bite to it now.

“What else am I supposed to think? Your actions speak for themselves!” I retorted, my anger bubbling over.

“They’re my stress relievers,” he said with a shrug, as if that explanation made perfect sense.

“Your stress relievers?” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “You talk like you’re the busiest man on the planet.”

“I am,” he replied matteroffactly.

“Whatever,” I muttered, barely containing my disgust.

“What’s your problem?” he snapped. “This is my life, and you’re just my maid. Whatever I do here is none of your business. Now, go to your room, get some rest, and make sure you do your job well in the morning.”

I was stunned. Never in my life had I been so insulted. Just a maid? How dare he look down on me like that? He had no idea who he was messing with. At that moment, I swore to myself that I would make his life a little more miserable.

“Sorry, I’m just being nosy,” I said with an air of feigned innocence.

“Never mind,” he muttered, though his eyes remained sharp. “If you’re worried about your safety, don’t be. I can assure you that you won’t become one of them,” he said coldly.

I bristled at the way he spoke, like he was dismissing me entirely. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, my voice low with suspicion.

“You’re not my type,” he said bluntly, but I didn’t believe him. He’d already complimented my appearance, said my legs were incredible. Physically, I knew he was attracted to me. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.

“Well, it’s a shame,” I said, meeting his gaze with a confident smirk. “Because you’re definitely my type.”

He grunted, clearly frustrated by my boldness. He could try to act superior to everyone else, but not to me. “By the way, Sebastian, can I borrow some of your clothes? I have nothing to wear tonight,” I asked, my voice casual, though the way he stared at me sent a chill down my spine.

On the second floor, there were two bedrooms, but only one was unlocked, while the other was bolted shut. Sebastian told me not to touch anything in his room and that I could leave once I had picked out some clothes.

I wandered into his closet, scanning his clothes as I pulled out a few tshirts and longsleeved shirts. The man was tall, and when I slipped on one of his tshirts, it fell all the way down to my knees. The long sleeves were just as oversized. I grabbed three of his longsleeves and three tshirts, hoping they’d be enough for the next few days.

Just as I was about to leave, I hesitated. Something inside me urged me to check out his bathroom. It had both hot and cold water, just like I had hoped, and I was eager to take a shower and freshen up before I left. I locked the door behind me as I undressed and turned on the water.

The hot water poured over my body, soothing the tension and exhaustion. I indulged in Sebastian’s shower gel, telling myself it would probably be the first and last time I’d use it. I took my time washing my body, knowing the next few days would be all about staying on guard and keeping warm.

That man… what a nightmare.

When I finished showering, I wrapped myself in a towel and headed back to the room to change. But as I entered, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. “Oh my God!” I gasped in surprise.

Sebastian was standing in the middle of the room, his gaze falling on me in disbelief.