❝Good girls go to heaven, and bad girls go everywhere.❞
Bold, impulsive, and a girl with daddy issues, Rose is no simpering miss. She refuses to play by the society's rules: she speaks her mind, cares nothing for the approval of ton, and can throw a...
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❝I like it when you take control, even if you know that you don't own me.❞
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
AFTER A VERY LONG passionate night of kisses, bone-crashing cuddles, and dark promises the idea of waking up in a bed with, a warm chest pressing against your back, and arms so strong that they were trapping you in, heaven——all of this would be just so appealing that, no one would want to ever wake up. However, when you have plans to make, schemes to pull, and sinister founding families, of a secret society that, you were now a part of, to deal with. Sleep was long forgotten.
Yesterday, after Jimin went to sleep, I could not. Even, when he constantly kept telling me that he would take care of everything, I couldn't. I had no idea how would I take care of this matter. I was scared, but the thought of letting him take care of, all this was far-more scarier.
And that is how I managed to find a way. If you want to take someone down, you'd have to go down with them. Power is frightening —but a clever mind is even more terrifying.
“Rose?—I mean Madam,” The young japanese man working for Jimin, spoke frowning as I stepped into the kitchen. His hands and his apron were covered in flour and, I found it hard not to laugh at the stupid look across the man's face.
“Kaito, I hope I'm not disturbing you,” I spoke, smiling a little, placing my hand on the counter, and if I said that he looked stupid before then, perhaps the look upon his handsome face, now was more priceless. He appears to be terrified, as I stepped closer. His gaze lowered at his flour covered hands, and his ears reddening as, he inched further away.
Surprised, I stepped back and stared at him. Something was wrong, he was fine when we met the first time, in fact he was the only one who treated me like a normal person.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked, and he stiffened, hesitating for a second before raising his head, he looked at me, his eyes warm, and comforting as he smiled weakly.
“No—” His words were barely above a whisper, his eyes boring into mine with a resilient glance and I found myself wondering, how one's eyes could be say so much, yet nothing at all.
