Pain And Pleasure 18+✓

Eight

The cloud in my head is so thick that I don't realize when we've arrived at my apartment. I fail to overrule my thoughts toward Mr. Strange, and I believe my driver is already sick of this tendency of mine—getting too oblivious to notice where I am—for it happens whenever he takes or brings me back home.

I take a soft breath while unbuckling my seatbelt, still occupied in my mind.

For some reason I feel like a lost puppy, completely unsure of which way to go regarding my arrangement with that peculiar man. I gave in to his proposal on my own accord, surrendering myself to him. Working for him is one thing, but submitting to him feels like . . . a hard bargain?

A very hard bargain.

"Thank you," I tell Mr. Black suit, whose name I haven't grasped up to now.

Is it Mario? I believe that's how Adrian addressed him earlier.

"You're welcome, Ma'am." He nods curtly, holding the door open for me to exit.

"What's your name again? Because I call you Mr. Black suit and it's totally rude," I blurt and for the first time, he smiles briefly.

"You can call me Mario. Have a wonderful night." He shuts the door upon my full exit.

"You, too, Mario." I proceed inside the building, and as always he stays guarding my back until I'm inside the house.

Mr. Strange's orders? He's surely a pure control freak. I blush. The thought doesn't annoy me—on the contrary, I do feel flattered.

"Jake?" I call gently, finding the TV on with no one in the living room.

These kids! Sighing, I grab the remote and turn it off.

It's almost ten and saying I'm tired is an understatement of the century. After making sure everything is in order, I drop by Isla's bedroom. Themed in light pink, her princess bed included, not the expensive one as I easily got it on the flea market, my baby sister loves her majestic chamber that the three of us decorated together.

Pretty good old memories.

She's sleeping soundly, no worries about the world—I hope. She's hugging Ms. Pinky chunky, her stuffed monkey that she can't fall asleep without it by her side. A fond smile stretches across my lips as I lean over to kiss her forehead and mutter goodnight. I step out after fixing her blanket.

I bump into Jake the moment I shut Isla's bedroom door. He's stepping out of his room that's adjacent to mine, and opposite Isla's. In a split second, he looks surprised to see me, but he recovers immediately without fraying his eyes. Burying his emotions is a talent he has, after all.

"I thought you were sleeping," I say while fixing my trench coat to hide the dress I'm wearing inside.

He glides his gaze from my head to my toes, finding no change except the shoes I'm wearing. Not the boots I left with, but the friggin' expensive heels.

Shit! I forgot this detail. But too late. Jake knows I work in heels mostly, but not diamond-studded heels with a price tag worth a Hollywood red carpet.

Suspicious as hell.

"It's ten. I don't sleep at ten," he retorts with an indescribable tone of voice, his hands buried at the front porch of his navy blue hoodie. "I thought you'd be home late. Didn't you say you were working tonight?"

My insides tighten. Damn, I feel like I'm being interrogated by an elder.

The more I stall, the more his stealth gaze grows with immense curiosity.