I inhaled sharply, able to fucking breathe again. “Why are you in my room?” I demanded, feeling far more out of breath than I should have been.
Why was I getting turned on by this ass? He could be a serial killer.
Why wasn’t I screaming?
Had I lost my sense of self-preservation? Hell, had I ever had any? I couldn’t remember a time when it had actually been tested.
“I work here,” he explained, but I didn’t feel like that was the full truth.
I didn’t think he was lying, but there was something off about his tone. It wouldn’t surprise me if we had estate workers I didn’t know about. As if my body snapped out of it, I whimpered, my skin pulsating with pain as I pulled off my sock to reveal very red skin and dark painted nails. There was nothing quite like the pain of boiling hot water on your skin.
“Don’t touch me,” I growled quietly as he reached forward to grasp my ankle, “get out before I scream for my mother.”
“Stepmother,” he clarified, making my jaw clench.
“Get out,” I commanded in a hard voice that surprised even me, “I should have you fired for this.” That was if he worked here. I feel like I would have noticed this unusually handsome bastard.
Although, sometimes it felt like the place changed on me, looping in and out of reality. Bending like the shadows. Or. And this is completely possible, I was imagining all of this. It was a theme throughout most of my life. The fight between was Ophelia going fucking crazy or was the shit around her actually happening.
His lips twitched slightly, breaking his intense demeanor. “But you won’t. Now let me look at your foot, Ophelia. You don’t want it to blister.” God, I loved my name on his lips. I didn’t even care how he knew it. He was in my room, after all. Maybe he was a stalker. I wasn’t positive if I would be upset about him stalking me.
“Absolutely not,” I tried drawing my foot back further, but he kept a hold of my delicate ankle once in his reach. I whimpered as he examined the red, probably soon to be blistered skin as he mentioned.
His rough fingers felt good on my skin, and my head felt dizzy as he smoothed a thumb over my ankle bone and the other danced across my sore skin.
“Can I fix it, princess?” He arched a brow as I scowled at the nickname. I nodded, wondering how he was going to do that. Then he took me by surprise and pressed his fingers harder into the red area.
I winced expecting pain but instead, a soft warmth surrounded my foot and the pain disappeared. Sweet Christ that felt better. My body sagged in relief as the tension rolled off me and down into the floor like rivulets of water.
“How?” I demanded, not bothering to tug my foot back as he continued to run his thumb over it. Swallowed nervously because the man was looking at my foot still, but his body was tense as if ready for something. I had no idea what.
“Magic,” he whispered, almost in thought.
I scoffed, causing him to arch a dark brow at me. Then he was standing up, his hand offered to me as I joined him. My eyes moved to the mug but found it no longer broken but steaming with fresh tea and my phone ringing once more.
“You should pick that up,” he whispered against my ear, making me shiver.
I was standing and pressed against him, not realizing how close we’d been, my head tilted back as I inhaled his clean lemon scent. My head felt dizzy, a flush rolling over my skin, and I could feel my nipples tightening against my lace bra. Oh man, this was bad. A nearly feral glint entered his eyes as if he could tell, and I found myself almost hypnotized by his intensity.
The man was just big. Like not just physically. His dominance, confidence, and this odd energy filled the space. Oliver was someone who demanded shit from people and didn’t offer second chances. I wondered what my punishment would be for not following his orders if he ever gave them…something delicious no doubt. I had to assume.
“Your phone.” He ran a thumb over my lip as my tongue darted out, and he let out a growl.
I turned, breaking out of the trance, and picked up my phone feeling flushed and red-faced. When I turned back around, phone to my ear…Oliver was gone. I could hear a voice on the other end talking, but a chill crept up my spine as if I was still being watched. Had I just completely imagined all of that?
I clearly needed sleep. That was all this was. Exhaustion. I slept terribly last night because of the storm. And the shadows…they had been trying to crawl into bed with me. Every time I closed my eyes, they moved closer and closer.
“Beautiful, you there?” A familiar soft, yet confident, masculine voice had me refocusing.
“Bard?” I frowned at his concerned voice. “Why the hell are you calling me from an unknown number?” My brain felt fried right now, but I was desperately trying to focus on what he was saying.
“I am stuck at the stables without a ride because my father had a thing to go to, can you pick me up?” He sighed, sounding exhausted. I felt bad for Bard, he overworked himself, and I had never heard it more clear than the evidently tired nature of his voice. The worst part? It was to appease a father that was always going to be unhappy.
I would know, I lived with Denise. The two of them, his father and my stepmother, should get together and put their expectations on one another instead of us. At least I had my sisters to buffer my situation, it was just Bard and his dad at home.
“Sure,” I mumbled, still feeling a bit off, “give me ten minutes.”
To reclaim my sanity. I didn’t hear his response but I hung up and looked down at my foot before frowning at my perfect cup of tea. I was not about to drink that, who knew what Oliver had done to it.
My, most likely imagined, friend, Oliver.
Chapter 3
Ophelia Rose
Reclaiming Sanity
I tried to put the entire situation from my mind as I walked towards my closet, a small office that had been redone to accommodate all the clothes Denise purchased for me. Don’t get me wrong, I was thankful for the luxury she placed my stepsisters and I in, but I just knew everything she put in there was so I looked how she wanted me to.
I pulled out a pair of dark boots and grabbed a windbreaker to pull over my long sleeve shirt and dark jeans. My purse sat on my bed from yesterday, so I made sure to have my wallet and keys before putting it over my shoulder, leaving the room. I couldn’t even pay attention to the shadowy corners around me, I had bigger fucking fish to fry.
Oliver. Had that been real? Or was I so lonely that I was starting to create handsome men? That was possible. As I mentioned, most of my ‘friends’ were boys. ‘Friends’ is a very light descriptor because I had no idea what the hell they were.
As for the girls, it wasn’t anything against them, most of them were actually pretty cool. We just didn’t click. To be honest, I didn’t click with most people and even those I did click with, kept their distance.
I walked out the front door and down the driveway, reaching my black, expensive BMW sedan. I tossed my purse onto the seat next to me and started her up, pulling out of the long driveway.
I had gotten my license the day of my sixteenth birthday so that I could maintain some level of freedom from my stepmother. As a result, I could easily navigate through the entire town with ease. I took the appropriate roads that led me towards Village Worth Preparatory Academy and the massive equestrian center it featured.