Chapter 20
Ashley
I hesitated, my hand trembling on the handle of the door where I knew he was. I took a deep breath and knocked gently, the sound barely audible over the pounding of my own heart. Was I afraid of him, or was there something else—a strange excitement I couldn’t understand? I shook my head. Why would I feel excited?
After knocking several times without a response, I slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside his dorm. The sound of running water told me he was in the shower. I froze, unsure of what to do. My fingers tightened around the handle of the door, holding on to it as if it were a lifeline. I needed to be ready to leave, just in case.
I waited for about a minute before I heard him turn off the shower. I knew he was done bathing. I tightened my grip on the door handle, feeling nervous as my heartbeat quickened at the sound of his approaching footsteps. He was coming closer. As soon as he entered his room, my jaw dropped at the sight before me: water dripped from his hair onto his toned, muscular chest.
He had six-pack abs, and his defined V-line made him look incredibly sexy. I completely forgot I was still holding the door handle, my grip loosening as I stared in awe. I had never seen anyone so attractive and handsome at the same time.
My heart raced with excitement, and I hated how much of an effect he had on me. My body and soul seemed to be drawn to him. I stood there, swallowing hard, forgetting the real reason I had come to see him. His presence, looking so alluring in front of me, made me want him even more. But why? I had thought he was a ruthless beast with no heart. He had killed and hurt someone precious to me, someone who had shown me nothing but kindness, and I couldn’t forgive that.
He cleared his throat, snapping me back to reality. "What's the matter?" he asked. I couldn’t even process my thoughts properly and blurted out my question, sounding rude and awkward.
“Is it mine?” I asked, immediately regretting how blunt I had been. He paused for a moment, looking confused, then raised his eyebrows. It only made him look more attractive, which annoyed me. Was I here to admire his face? I mentally shook myself, trying to focus.
“What's yours?” he asked, throwing the question back at me.
“My... my dorm,” I stammered, unable to hide my nervousness. Maybe I was being too awkward in front of him. A small laugh escaped his lips, oddly making me feel a bit relieved.
“Yes, it’s yours,” he confirmed.
“Okay,” I replied simply, unsure whether I should thank him or not. I didn’t want him to think that I was okay with what he had done. A room wouldn’t soften my heart, and I didn’t want this beast to believe otherwise.
Then I noticed him looking at me from head to toe, his gaze fixed on my belly button. I began to feel uncomfortable with the way he stared at me, his eyes now fixed on my chest. I wanted to get inside his head and know what he was thinking. My grip on the door handle tightened as my legs felt too heavy to move. I just stood there, frozen like a statue. Was I expecting something else? I wondered.
Suddenly, my stomach made a loud, embarrassing noise, pulling us back to reality. He looked up at my face as my stomach growled again. I hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, and the hunger was becoming unbearable. I held my belly in pain.
“Sit,” he said, pointing to his bed. I hesitated, unsure if I should accept.
“It’s fine. I’ll just get you something to eat,” he added, as if he had read my mind and knew what I might have been thinking. I didn’t argue and nodded, heading straight to his bed. I was so hungry that I could eat anything.
He moved to the other side of the room, picked up his phone from the table, and made a quick call. I couldn’t hear what he was saying; my attention was focused on his back, admiring his strong, defined muscles. The only thing I caught was the mention of “fried steaks” at the end of his call.
He turned back to me, and I quickly folded my hands on my lap, feeling nervous and shy. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye, so I focused my gaze elsewhere. But then he sat beside me, and I felt his eyes on me. I didn’t want to turn to face him or talk to him at all.
"You haven't eaten anything I've you?" I asked which he literally knows I haven't I only nodded my head in response folding my palms as I tighten It.
He reached out and gently took my right hand in his, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. The sudden rush of warmth and the way my heart raced made me gently pull my hand back. I glanced at him, and for a brief moment, I saw the hurt flash in his eyes before he quickly masked it.
The sound of a knock at the door broke the tension. He went to open it, and a maid entered, bowing to me as she set the food down. Her hands trembled slightly, her fear of King Zade evident. After placing the dishes in front of me, she bowed deeply to him before hurrying out of the room.
He had ordered a Hamburger, Cuban Sandwich, and Chicken Fried Steak—all foods I hadn’t eaten in ages. Despite my nerves, I couldn’t resist. I dug in, eating with much appetite. I could feel his gaze on me the entire time, making me uneasy, but I was too hungry to care. I just kept eating, focusing on the delicious flavors rather than the intense scrutiny of his eyes.
Another knock came, and he moved to answer it. This time, Vincent walked in, dressed impeccably in a well-tailored suit, his hands casually in his pockets. “Your guests are here,” he said simply before leaving. King Zade nodded and followed him out, leaving me alone in his room.
Relieved to be by myself, I hurried to finish the meal. I knew I needed to get out of here before he returned. I didn’t want to be caught in his space any longer than necessary.
It didn’t take me long to polish off the food and finish the drink. I quickly stood up and made my way out of the room, looking around to make sure the coast was clear. As I turned a corner, I collided hard with someone and fell to the ground.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” a familiar female voice said. I looked up, and recognition washed over me. She extended a hand, and I took it, letting her help me to my feet. It was Marinda, King Zade’s personal witch. I had seen her before, but I couldn’t quite place where—until it hit me. She was the one who had helped me when I first arrived here.