CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN
ALICE
When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that I am not on my own feet.
I'm being carried.
My head feels heavy, dangling slightly against a hard chest, and the steady, rhythmic movement tells me someone is walking with me in their arms.
Before I can even fully process who it is or where the hell we are, the movement stops.
Suddenly, I am being lowered.
I expect the hard, unforgiving mattress of my own crappy apartment, but instead, I sink into something incredibly soft.
It is so soft that for a second, I genuinely think I'm dreaming.
It feels like a literal cloud.
I have never owned anything this expensive or comfortable in my entire life, so the sheer luxury of it feels completely out of place.
It instantly sets off alarm bells in my head.
This isn't my room.
The moment my back flat-lines against the stack of high, fluffy pillows, reality hits me like a slap to the face.
The dull ache in my back flares up into a sharp, blinding burn.
A ragged groan escapes my throat before I can stop it, and my eyes snap open.
As the fog of sleep quickly clears from my vision, the first thing I see is a pair of amber eyes.
Zade is hovering directly over me.
His dark eyebrows are pulled together in a tight, annoyed furrow, his intense gaze pinning me to the mattress.
He looks beautiful, dangerous, and entirely too close.
"Are you in pain?" Zade asks. His voice is low, a deep rumble that vibrates right through me.
I try to sit up slowly, bracing myself against the soft mattress.
My throat feels like sandpaper.
"No... I think... maybe a little," I rasp out, my voice sounding small and cracked.
Without a word, he reaches over to a nightstand and grabs a glass of water.
He hands it to me, his fingers briefly brushing against mine.
The contact sends a weird jolt through my skin.
I take the glass, drinking the cold water slowly, letting it soothe my aching throat before I set it down on the table beside the bed.
I look around the room, taking in the massive space, the high ceilings, and the expensive furniture.
Everything smells like wealth and old money.
"When did we arrive?" I ask, finally forcing myself to swing my legs over the edge of the bed.
I stand up, but my knees feel like jelly.
It takes me a long, embarrassing moment to actually find my balance and steady myself.
"A few minutes ago," Zade says shortly.
He doesn't offer to help me stand, but his eyes track every single move I make.
He turns on his heel and starts moving toward the large door.
"If you want to take a bath, the bathroom is right through there. I'll go bring your clothes."
"Wait!" I shout.
The word flies out of my mouth before I even realize I'm speaking.
I sound desperate, and I instantly hate myself for it.
Zade stops in his tracks.
He turns around slowly, one eyebrow raised in question.
"Do you want something?"
"I... no..." I stammer, mentally cursing myself. I take a breath and try again, trying to sound normal.
"Actually, I want to see around the place... so will... will you show me?"
Fuck me sideways.
Why the hell am I stuttering over every single syllable like a scared little kid? He makes me so nervous that my brain completely short-circuits.
Zade stares at me, his amber eyes scanning my face.
"You want a tour? Are you even sure you can walk?"
"Yes, please," I say, lifting my chin a bit to look more confident than I feel.
"I'd rather have a pleasurable walk than lie on the bed all day."
The second the words leave my mouth, I want the floor to swallow me whole.
I clamp my mouth shut so fast my teeth click.
Pleasurable.
Of all the words in the English dictionary, why the hell did I choose that one?
What the fuck is wrong with you today, Alice?
A slow, wicked smirk spreads across Zade's face.
He clearly loves every second of my misery.
"I'll be glad to give you the pleasure," he says, his voice dripping with dark amusement.
My cheeks burn red-hot.
I instantly hide my face in both of my hands, wishing I could disappear.
I can hear the quiet, deep breath he lets out at my reaction.
"Follow me. I'll show you," he says, turning back around and throwing the bedroom door wide open.
I take a deep breath, drop my hands, and step out of the room behind him.
As we walk out into the hallway, my jaw practically drops.
Would it be too much to say that this place is a straight-up castle? The hallways are wider than my entire apartment.
The floors are polished hardwood that gleams under the expensive light fixtures, and everything is spotless.
Zade points to a couple of doors as we walk down the long corridor.
"The room we were in earlier is the guest room. That one over there is yours. This one right beside you is Mom and Dad's room."
He pauses, glancing back at me over his shoulder with a serious look.
"And I'd suggest staying away from their room if Dad is present. You'd be at peace that way."
I nod quickly, keeping that mental note locked away.
I definitely don't want to accidentally barge in on Ethan.
We keep walking, and I can't stop my eyes from wandering.
I look at the walls, completely amazed.
There are massive paintings hanging up, the kind that look like they belong in a museum.
They probably cost more than my entire life's savings, plus whatever I'll make in the next twenty years.
Interspersed between the expensive art are framed photographs.
Most of them are photos of Yana and Ethan.
Suddenly, my feet come to a complete halt.
I freeze, staring intensely at the fifth photo in the row.
It's their marriage photo, or at least, I think it is.
But it isn't the grand setting or the beautiful clothing that makes me stop in my tracks.
It's the raw emotion captured in the shot. It's the exact way Ethan is looking at her.
Yana is staring somewhere out of the camera's frame, smiling beautifully, but Ethan isn't looking at the camera at all.
He is looking at his wife.
The pure fondness in his eyes can be felt even in this old, slightly faded image.
His eyes are literally shining with adoration, like she is the only person in the entire universe.
It makes something ache deep inside my chest.
I've never had anyone look at me like that.
"Their wedding picture," Zade's voice speaks up right behind me, startling me out of my thoughts.
I slowly pull my eyes away from the frame and look up at him.
He's standing close, staring at the photo too, but his expression is unreadable.
"They love each other so much, right?" I ask softly as we start moving ahead again.
"That they do," Zade replies, his voice surprisingly quiet.
"More likely, my father is the one who can't live a single moment without my mother. She has always been proud to have him. Their love is pretty much all-consuming. It always has been."
"They seem perfect for each other," I say, genuinely meaning it.
It's hard to imagine people actually being that happy.
"They are," Zade says. Then, a sharp, dark smirk touches his lips.
"But I was the reason they got married so early. Mom was actually four months pregnant with me when they finally wed. My grandfather hadn't approved of my father as his son-in-law at all. He didn't accept him up until the day I was born."
We turn a corner and move into the next corridor.
If I thought this place felt like a castle earlier, I need to take it back.
This part of the house feels like absolute heaven.
The entire corridor is completely open on one side, featuring massive, floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlook the vast estate.
I look out and see endless flat land covered in lush, vibrant greenery.
It looks so soft and beautiful it almost makes me want to go outside and roll around on it like a kid.
Trying to distract myself from how rich his family is, I look back at Zade.
"So, are you saying you played the peacemaker between your grandfather and your father before you were even born?"
Zade lets out a wicked smirk.
"Something like that."
I follow him toward a grand set of stairs. As we start walking down, I notice more photos hanging on the staircase walls.
These ones are different.
They are beautiful, artistic maternity images of Yana when she was pregnant, always with Ethan right by her side.
In some of them, they are standing near a clear blue lake with swans swimming by.
In others, they are holding hands in the middle of a massive tulip field.
They look incredibly peaceful.
At the very end of the stairs, the photos transition into Zade's childhood.
I lean in slightly to look.
There is his very first picture, a tiny, fragile baby tucked securely into Ethan's massive arms.
Then there's a funny, heartwarming photo of him as a toddler, smiling wide with only two tiny teeth showing in his lower gums.
Next to it is a shot of him learning to ride a bicycle, looking determined and angry even back then.
There are dozens more following his growth.
I'm so distracted looking at his little childhood pictures that I completely forget to watch where I'm going.
I take a step down to the next stair, but my foot completely misses the edge.
It's a massive mistake.
My foot slips right off the smooth step, and my heart instantly leaps right into my throat.
The world tilts on its axis.
I feel myself launching forward into empty air, a sharp, terrified gasp escaping my mouth.
I brace myself for the hard, painful impact of the stairs.
But instead of hitting the floor, I crash hard into a warm, solid body.
Instinct takes over.
I wrap my arms around him, hugging his body so tightly that I can feel the sudden, agonizing pull on the wound on my back.
It hurts like hell, a hot flash of pain shooting up my spine, but I am too terrified of falling to let go.
I bury my face into his chest, trembling.
"You seem to have a habit of falling and getting yourself into problems you can't fucking solve," Zade's rough voice growls right against my ear.
His words are slightly muffled by my braid, but the anger and intensity in his tone are crystal clear.
Before I can even apologize, his massive hands grip my waist effortlessly.
With pure, raw strength, he lifts me completely off my feet like I weigh absolutely nothing.
He turns his body, shifting me, and carefully places my feet down on the stable step right in front of him.
My heart is hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
I reluctantly try to pull my body back to give us some space, but his hands don't move.
They stay anchored tightly around my waist, keeping me locked right against him.
The sudden closeness is doing dangerous things to my head.
My skin feels hot wherever he's touching me, and a strange, heavy heat starts pooling deep down in my lower belly.
Being this close to him, feeling his heartbeat and his warmth, is overwhelming.
And, of course, my treacherous brain decides right now is the perfect time to remember that night.
The night he gave me an orgasm.
To be completely honest, it was the first ever orgasm I had ever received from a man.
I had never let anyone get that close to me before.
Not to mention, I am still a virgin—not that he ever has to know about that..yet anyways..(so do want him to find it out on his own)..I shut the voice in my head.
"Stop rubbing your tits against me if you don't want to get fucked," Zade growls suddenly, his voice dropping into a dangerous, dark octave right against my ear.
His breath is hot against my skin.
My eyes widen in shock.
Only then do I finally notice it.
Because I'm so panicked and out of breath, my breathing is completely erratic.
My chest is heaving up and down, and with every single breath I take, my breasts are brushing right against his solid chest.
Panic spikes through me.
I violently push against his chest to get away from him.
It turns out to be another massive mistake.
Because I push off so hard and my legs are still weak, I lose my balance entirely.
I slip backward and fall hard, landing straight on my ass on the wooden floor.
A sharp, painful yelp escapes my lips as the impact rattles my spine and sends a fresh wave of agony straight to the wound on my back.
I groan, looking up from the floor.
Zade is standing over me, towering above my fallen form, just staring me down with a cold, unreadable expression.
He doesn't even offer a hand.
"Help me, asshole," I hiss out, my voice laced with pure annoyance and pain.
I can feel a strange, warm dampness starting to spread across the fabric on my back, and I know for a fact that the wound has reopened and started bleeding again.
Hearing my tone, Zade finally walks down the remaining steps.
He reaches down, grabs both of my hands in his tight grip, and pulls me up in one swift motion.
The sudden movement makes the entire room spin.
The world tilts violently for a second, and I have to blink rapidly to keep from passing out. It's definitely weakness from the blood loss.
"Stay fucking still," Zade commands, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument.
His large, warm hand slowly roams over my back, gently tracing the area over the injured skin to check the damage.
The moment his fingers make contact with the raw wound, a violent hiss escapes my teeth.
The pain is sharp and burning.
I ball my hands into fists, my temper flaring up.
I am just about to open my mouth and curse him out in all five languages I speak, ready to yell every foul word I know, when a loud voice cuts through the tension.
"Why are you both standing there?"
I freeze.
I slowly pull back from Zade, creating some much-needed distance between us, and stand up as straight as my aching body will allow.
Ethan comes walking into view at the bottom of the staircase.
He looks as imposing and powerful as ever, but his expression is calm as he slides his phone back into his front pocket.
His sharp eyes flick between Zade and me, picking up on the heavy atmosphere instantly.
"I wanted to see around the place," I say quickly, looking down at the floor.
I awkwardly kick at some imaginary pebbles on the ground, trying to look as innocent as possible so he doesn't think his son was just torturing me on the stairs.
Ethan looks at Zade, then back at my flushed face.
"And I assume he disappointed you?" he asks, a small, knowing hum in his voice.
"No... no, he actually was showing me around," I reply quickly, defending him before I can even think about why I'm doing it.
Ethan watches me for a quiet moment, his expression softening into something surprisingly warm and gentle.
He steps closer and holds his arm out toward me. It's a simple, classic gesture—like a protective father waiting for his daughter to take his arm.
Looking at his extended arm, a sudden, heavy lump forms in my throat. I feel a wave of intense emotion crash over me, and I suddenly want to cry.
For everyone It's just a simple, respectful gesture, but it's something I have never experienced in my life.
Nobody has ever tried to protect me or guide me like this.
I quickly swallow down the lump, fighting back the tears before they can well up in my eyes.
I suppress my emotions, forcing a small smile as I reach out and place my hand securely over his arm.
"Come with me. I'll show you the rest," Ethan says gently, turning to lead me away.
As we walk away from the staircase and leave the main living room area, I can't help myself.
I stop for a brief second and look back over my shoulder to where we just were.
Zade is still standing at the bottom of the stairs.
He hasn't moved an inch.
He's just standing there in the shadows, completely still, but his amber eyes are cast downward, locked onto the floor.
From this distance, with the way the shadows fall over his face, I can't see exactly what he's looking at... or what he's thinking.