Wrath

Chapter Four

(4)

The foyer alone is grand. The centerpiece of the room hung above us, a large crystal chandelier which cast light and shadow onto the paneled walls. My heels click on the dark oak floors as Wrath begins to loosen his hold on me. He had a beautiful home, dark and eccentric, a perfect reflection of himself. His hands grasp my jacket from behind, making me jump at the sudden contact. His skin never brushes mine, I'm thankful to not have to endure the strange electric feeling that came with his touch. Sliding my coat off of my shoulders, he lingers behind me a moment too long. I turn, staring up at him. This seemed to pull him out of deep thought as his gaze shifts from me to the empty space above my head.

"I would offer a tour, however, I'm afraid it's gotten quite late. Would you like me to show you your room?" He asks, not meeting my eyes. My eyes wander to a set of doors that were slightly ajar where soft yellow light illuminates the foyer.

"Yes, thank you." I reply, still inspecting what little I could see of the room. A fireplace, two large couches positioned across from one another.

    I didn't feel tired in the slightest. The weight of being plunged into a new life with a man I hardly knew would no doubt cause more than a few sleepless nights. Nevertheless, I craved solitude as I followed Wrath up the winding staircase. I watch his tall figure climb the stairs in wonder. He always wore beautifully tailored suits, all in black, accentuating the ink on his pale skin. I wondered how far the ink stretched as I'd only seen the bare skin of his hands and face. My fleeting thoughts are cut short as we reach the second story.

Stopping in front of a door, he looks to me before pushing it open. The room was large, around the same size as the one I had at home. Vaulted ceilings and floor to ceiling windows, it was painted a light shade of grey. In the middle, a queen sized bed made up with forest green linens. It was so obviously not lived in, bare of personality unlike the rest of his home. A blank canvas I could make my own.

"I had this put together this morning for you. I've just moved in myself. It's temporary, but I hope it is to your liking." Wrath stands against the frame of the door, watching my reaction to his generosity closely. Pushing himself off of the wall, he disappears down the hall for a few moments, returning only a second later holding a set of folded clothes. "We'll retrieve your belongings tomorrow, until then, you may wear a change of my clothes."

   I take them from him, careful not to brush his hand in the process. A simple white t-shirt and a pair of black boxers. I stare down at the cloth uncomfortably, I would be wearing his clothes. His... underwear. It was odd to think of him wearing the outfit he'd given me. I couldn't imagine him in anything but a suit.

  "Thank you." I meet his white irises. Adverting my gaze back to the clothing for a moment, when I finally look up I realize he's disappeared. I'm relieved to be alone once more, softly closing the door, I change into his clothing. It swallows me, the waist band of the boxers barely staying up past my hip. But it would do.

Curling up on the bed, I reach for my phone. A text, from my one and only friend, Jada.

'What's my girl up to? xx'

Spending my first night in the home of my billionaire fiancé whose brother I was engaged to less than twenty-four hours ago, the usual. I reply sarcastically in my head recalling the bidding war for my affections. How strange that would sound out of context.

Once Jada's study abroad in Sweden began our communication had become limited. A few texts here and there, but no where near as close as we once were. She was the type to have her nose in a book at all times, placing her studies above everything and everyone else, including me. Feeling deflated, I type a quick reply.