Worst Nightmare

Chapter 27

Author's Pov...

Morning in the Malisorn Estate was usually a quiet affair, cloaked in the hum of old power and tradition. But not today.

Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains of the guest wing, brushing across the silk sheets like the breath of a ghost. The room still smelled faintly of broken glass and dried blood, though most of the evidence had been cleared by the maids in hushed tones before dawn.

Faye stirred under the blanket, her body stiff, breath shallow. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and for a moment, she forgot where she was.

Then it came back.

Last night.
The fire.
Her grandfather's fury.
The slap.
The declaration.
Yoko.

Faye blinked at the empty space beside her, the sheets already cold. The absence hit her like a hollow weight in her chest. She turned her head sluggishly and saw movement beyond the half-open door-voices, laughter. Familiar.

Yoko stood in the corridor with Charlotte, already dressed, polished, royal. Her hair was pinned with white phoenix pearls, her dress-a modern fusion of Chinese Wang silk and contemporary tailoring-hugged her figure with grace that didn't ask for attention but commanded it.

Her voice was soft but poised. Regal.

Faye sighed. Her throat was dry. Her skin still burned in spots where rage and tenderness had both touched her. She tried to sit up-

"Whoa, whoa-easy."

Wan appeared at her side in a blink. She gently helped Faye sit against the headboard, adjusting the pillow behind her back with practiced familiarity.

"You scared everyone, you know," Wan murmured.

"Is that so unusual? And what's with the unusual affection towards me" Faye croaked, attempting a smirk. It failed.

"You're usually a menace," Wan said, then softened. "But not like this."... Wan may look cold but she really wanted and she thinks Faye is the one who is capable and the person who can carry this legacy but she just doesn't like to show it, so she became a competitor.

Before Faye could respond, a sharp knock echoed from the main hall. Wan turned, alert, as the large wooden doors opened.

What followed was not usual.

Mr. Malisorn entered, followed by two maids and a sharply dressed man carrying a doctor's bag.

The room seemed to shrink with his presence.

Every servant bowed.

Faye immediately struggled to rise-pain be damned-but Mr. Malisorn raised a hand.

"Sit," he said, voice calm, but steeped in command. "Don't test me this morning."

Faye obeyed, her back stiff, eyes wary. The last time they had stood this close, his hand had struck her face.

The doctor murmured something to the maids, but Mr. Malisorn's gaze was fixed on his granddaughter. His eyes swept her like a hawk... and stopped cold.

Right at her jawline.

The purplish love mark that had bloomed overnight had darkened-its edge kissed faintly by a crescent of teeth. It was intimate. Raw. Real.

And undeniable.

A beat of silence fell over the room.

Wan shifted awkwardly.