Chapter 2: Bedlam in the Sheets
Sophie's POV
"I'm sorry." The words slipped out before I could stop them, hanging in the air between Adam and me. His cold green eyes fixed on me with such intensity that I had to fight the urge to step back. But I couldn't leave – not when I owed so much to his grandfather, not when I'd promised to take care of him.
Chase, the guy who'd struck me, looked smugly satisfied. "Next time, learn to show proper respect," he sneered, straightening his jacket. "This isn't some backwater town where you can just walk in anywhere you please."
The gathered crowd of Bay City's elite watched the scene unfold with barely concealed interest, their champagne glasses glinting in the afternoon light. A few titters of laughter followed Chase's comment, making my cheeks burn hotter.
The tension in the room shattered as Adam's phone rang. He answered it with a casual grace. His expression darkened as he listened, those piercing green eyes fixing on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Of course, Grandfather," he said, his voice carrying an edge that hadn't been there before. "I understand perfectly. She won't be harmed."
"Everyone, leave." he announced, his voice brooking no argument.
"I'm tired," he added, not bothering to look at me again. "Margaret, arrange her accommodation. From now on, she'll handle all the daily affairs here. We won't need any other maids."
The gathered socialites exchanged knowing looks but began to disperse. I caught fragments of their conversations as they passed:
"Is it because of William?"
"Did you see how she attacked Chase?"
"Not even Isabella gets to stay here overnight..."
"No wonder she can live here; probably only William in the entire Bay City could..."
Margaret, an elderly woman with silver-streaked hair and kind eyes, stepped forward and gestured for me to follow her. As we left, I couldn't help but steal one last glance at Adam's retreating figure. His broad shoulders carried an invisible weight that made my heart ache, despite his earlier coldness.
"Miss, you'll be staying here," Margaret said, opening a door to reveal a modestly furnished but comfortable room. "Mr. Foster's room is on the second floor. He doesn't like to be disturbed, so please remember not to go upstairs unless necessary."
"Thank you, Margaret," I replied softly. "Please, call me Sophie."
She gave me a small smile before leaving me alone. The room was larger than my entire apartment back in Cedar Town, with a window overlooking the manicured gardens below. As I unpacked my meager belongings, I tried to convince myself that I could make this work.
The next morning, worry gnawed at my stomach when I noticed Adam hadn't come down by his usual time. What if something had happened to him? Before I could talk myself out of it, I found myself climbing the stairs to the second floor.
The room was dark, heavy curtains blocking out the late morning sun. Adam lay there, half-covered by silk sheets. His silk robe had fallen open, revealing a perfectly sculpted chest and abs that would make Greek statues jealous.
Every instinct screamed at me to back away quietly and return later. Yet, like a moth drawn to a flame, I found myself taking small steps toward the bed.
However, in a blur of motion too fast for my eyes to track, his hand shot out and wrapped around my throat. My gasp of surprise was cut short as his fingers tightened, not enough to completely cut off my air, but enough to make breathing difficult. His eyes snapped open, revealing intense green irises that seemed to pierce straight through me.
"Who do you think you are?" The words came out in a deadly whisper, his breath hot against my face.
Pure instinct took over. I brought my knee up sharply, catching him in the ribs. His grip loosened enough for me to twist away, but the momentum sent us both tumbling onto his bed, with me somehow ending up on top.
"Let go," he growled, his hands still gripping my arms.
"YOU let go first!" I snapped back, my voice squeaking despite my best attempt at bravery. "Take your hands off my neck!"
His eyes finally focused, recognition dawning in those green depths. "Who gave you permission to enter?"
"I noticed you weren't up at 11 AM," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady. "I was worried you might have passed out or something. I just wanted to check on you."
A tense moment passed before he spoke again, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "How long do you plan to sit on me?"
Heat rushed to my face as I scrambled off him, nearly falling in my haste. "Adam, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come in without permission. I just... I was worried."
His green eyes followed me, unreadable as ever. A drop of blood welled at the corner of his mouth. The sight of it made my stomach twist with guilt.
"I'll get some ice for that," I mumbled, fleeing the room before he could respond.
The kitchen was my sanctuary. Here, at least, I knew what I was doing. I focused on making lunch, trying to ignore the way my hands shook as I cracked eggs into a bowl. The phone call from William earlier still echoed in my mind.
"Adam?" I ventured when he finally appeared in the doorway, a dark bruise forming on his jaw. "Your grandfather called. He wants to come for dinner this weekend... to see us."
His expression hardened. "Really? That's great for you, but why should I care? Now, clean up the garden today."