His Black Assistant (Editing)

Chapter 28

Christy's POV.

The sunlight that sneaked into my room, kissing my skin warmly was what woke me up. I stretched my hands letting a yawn escape my lips. That was a refreshing sleep. I rolled over on my bed and stretched fully and gently so as not to hit my hands and legs at the edge of my six spring bed. My hands landed softly on an extension of my bed instead of on the edge. When did my bed get so large? I let another yawn escape my lips as I slowly opened my eyes. My eyes landed on a very white PVC ceiling and I wondered when my ceiling changed. I looked down at the extensions of the bed to understand why it was so, only to find the bed really large.

Where was I?

Paranoid, I sat up immediately only regretting that act when a sharp pain ran down my back. That hurt. I held my back and sat up gently. I took in the room I was in with bewilderment and fear. I mean whose house is this and how did I get in? And how can a human own this type of house?

May be, the owner is into Yahoo Yahoo!

My subconscious mind scared me. I can't be in the house of a 419, the God I serve won't let me. I looked down to make sure my clothes were in tact only to discover that I had nothing but a big shirt and a three quarter jean short. How did I even get these? I brought my feet down and shivered as my toes connected with the cold marbled floor. I gently stood up so as not to put excess weight on the ground--lest it breaks. I walked round the room figuring how to escape and muttering a few prayers. In my state if paranoia, I saw a door inside the room. I opened it gently to prevent it from squeaking. The door led to a very wide bathroom with silver sinks, basins, white walls and a lot of other exquisite things. I looked at my reflection in the mirror that was by my left, and I stifled a scream. My face had a lot of bruises, some that were fading and some that still looked fresh. My lips looked so dry and rugged. To say the least, I couldn't recognise myself. I looked at the toilet bag on the sink and found a new toothbrush still in its wrap and a toothpaste. I brushed my teeth with it gently, so as not to open the wounds I had in my mouth. How I got them, I don't remember. When I was done, I stepped out of the bathroom and into the massive bedroom. I was relieved when I saw an exit door in the room.

I walked down the wide passage I saw, looking back at intervals to as to locate the room I walked out from---in case of any danger. The first room I saw looked like a kitchen and so I entered. I looked at the surroundings and just thought of how unfair life is. This house probably worth over a billion dollars whereas some people can barely feed three times a day.

Chop!

The sound of a cutting knife brought me back. Where did it come from? I looked round the kitchen and froze at the sight before me. A very shirtless back was turned against me with well defined biceps. The muscles in the fore arm in a rhythm as he chopped the vegetables. I wondered if he was the owner of the house or maybe a steward. He seemed to have sensed my presence because, he turned immediately. Standing before me was Henrik Wright, with a smirk.

"Like what you see?"

"Huh?" I asked confused

"This," He said a flexed his arm in such a way that....

"Easy babe, it's too early to drool." He said and smiled. He turned back to the counter and removed the cooking glove he was wearing, and he walked towards me.

Holy shit! I had only a skimpy jean on and it showed too much skin and I've never dressed this way before. At least not in front of a guy. Jeez! Why was I feeling so conscious? I don't even know who wore me the clothes. Hell! It could even be him..