Older

18 | Clara Saint

"𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫, 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐭𝐮̀..."

𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐮 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨

I was growing increasingly worried as I wandered through the sprawling mansion, searching for Vincent. The absence of his usual reassuring presence had left me feeling uneasy.

First, I checked his bedroom, but it was empty, the bed impeccably made, and his clothes neatly hung in the closet. The scent of his cologne still lingered in the air, which only deepened my longing to find him.

I moved to his office, a place that often kept him captivated for hours. I gently pushed open the heavy wooden door and peeked inside, but the room was deserted. His desk, usually strewn with paperwork and scattered notes, was pristine. He always does this, he always disappears. I felt like I have been looking all over for him but no matter where I look, he just is not there.

With a sense of growing concern, I made my way downstairs and inquired with a few of the maids who were busy attending to their tasks.

"Have you seen Vincent anywhere?" I asked, trying to maintain my composure.

One of the maids looked up and nodded. "He's out in the garden-the swimming pool, Mrs Kovak. He went there a little while ago."

Relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but offer a grateful smile. "Thank you so much," I said before making my way towards the garden.

As I approached, my footsteps growing quieter on the polished marble tiles, I could hear the soft splashing of water. A feeling of intrigue mixed with anticipation washed over me.

Turning the corner, I came upon the stunning sight that awaited me. Vincent was shirtless, his strong back glistening with water droplets. The moon kissed his skin, illuminating every curve and sinew of his sculpted physique. His broad shoulders and well-defined chest spoke of dedication to fitness, while his lean, powerful arms hinted at strength and grace.

My breath caught in my throat as I took in the sight of him. The muscles of his abdomen were chiselled, and his legs, submerged in the pool, were equally impressive. Vincent embodied a perfect balance of strength and grace, a living work of art.

His raven-brown hair was damp, and the sunlight played upon it, creating a subtle halo around his head. Drops of water cascaded down his skin as he swam, each one seemingly caressing the contours of his body.

I couldn't tear my eyes away as I watched him move through the water, each stroke reflecting his effortless power and grace. It was a captivating display of masculine beauty.

"Take a picture, love."

I chuckled, "I was thinking of doing that, but I seem to have lost my phone." I settled onto the edge of the pool. "And why would I need a picture when I have the real thing in front of me?"

Vincent shifted towards me, leaning his arms beside me as he picked up his whiskey and took a sip. "What do you want now, Clara?" He asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Why would you think I want something?" I replied innocently.

"Because you only want me for two things, sex and whatever the other thing is." He grinned, and I playfully pushed him, causing ripples in the pool.

I splashed a bit of water in his direction. "Well, you forgot one more thing."

Vincent raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh, really? And what's the third thing?"

I leaned in, whispering with a sly grin, "your exceptional taste in humour, of course."

Vincent chuckled, a sound I loved to hear but rarely did.