41

Chapter 41

I stepped into my room, ready to collapse after the day's events. My mind kept drifting back to the kiss at the gate. That didn't feel like a friendly kiss. Did Damien like me? I barely had time to process everything before I noticed Richard sitting on the edge of my bed.

I froze.

"Why are you here?" I said, startled.

"Welcome back," he replied.

I watched him stand and walk toward me before pulling me into a tight embrace. This wasn't what I expected. I stiffened as my heart raced. Did he know about the kiss?

"How was your day?" he asked, his voice surprisingly calm.

I was silent for a moment, my chest tightening with guilt. His arms were warm around me, but he didn't seem jealous or suspicious at all. That means he didn't know. I felt relieved. I really didn't want to deal with this tonight.

"It was... fine," I finally replied, my voice trembling slightly.

He pulled back to look at me, his blue eyes searching mine. "You don't sound enthusiastic. I thought you had fun?"

I nodded, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah, Damien's birthday was nice."

I buried my face in his chest, finding comfort in his calming embrace. "I'm just tired. That's all," I reasoned.

He made a soft sound before brushing his hand lightly against my back. I should've been angry with him. This was the same man who had been stalking me earlier, invading my privacy. But the guilt troubled me, reminding me that he wasn't wrong. Damien had kissed me, and I hadn't stopped it.

"I'll let you get some rest," Richard said, finally releasing me. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Richard," I murmured as he left my room.

I stared at the closed door, my stomach twisting. I hadn't planned the kiss, but hiding it from Richard felt wrong. Telling him though, seemed like adding fuel to the fire. I knew he wouldn't take it well. He had warned me about Damien, and now that he was right, that it would only make the matters worse.

The next morning passed normally as if nothing was wrong. Richard left for work, and I kept busy, trying to push the kiss and its meaning out of my mind. But when Richard came home that evening, something felt off.

He didn't greet me like he usually did. His jaw was clenched so tightly it seemed like it might crack, and his movements were sharp as if he was holding something back. He looks like he's about to snap.

"Rough day at work?" I asked, hoping to ease the tension as I passed him.

He didn't answer. His eyes barely met mine before he walked past, his shoulders stiff. Something was definitely wrong.

He stayed quiet and distant through dinner too. Later that evening, I tried texting him.

Me: Everything okay?

Richard: Yes.

Me: You seem upset.

Richard: I'm not.

Me: Are you sure?

Richard: Why wouldn't I be?

His cryptic responses only made my anxiety spike. He was angry, but why? Had he found out? If so, I needed to confront him before this spirals out of control.

That night, I knocked on his door but heard nothing. I opened it to find the room empty. After a quick search of the manor, I found him in the gym, shirtless and soaked in sweat, throwing punches at the bag with relentless force. His muscles flexed with each strike, glistening under the harsh light. My throat went dry at the sight. Despite the tension between us, I couldn't ignore how impressive he looked.

For a moment, I just watched him. His punches looked deadly, his focus steady, as if the bag had personally wronged him. He exhaled sharply with every jab.

Stop staring, Carl. Focus.

I cleared my throat. "Richard."

He didn't respond, continuing his assault on the bag.

I tried again. "Richard, can we talk?"

Finally, he stopped, turning to face me with an icy expression. "Do you have something you'd like to share?"

"Why are you so worked up?" I asked.

He sneered. "I don't know. You tell me."

I had a bad feeling about this. "What do you mean?"

His glare intensified. "Don't play dumb with me, Carl. I heard an interesting story today from one of the guards."

I felt a lump in my throat but kept my expression neutral. "What kind of story?"

Richard stepped closer, towering over me. His voice dropped, cold and threatening. "The kind where he mentioned seeing you kiss another man at the gate last night."

Neither of us moved a muscle. Damn it, of course, the guard had seen it.

"He said he didn't even know you had a boyfriend." Richard added, his tone tight with anger. "Imagine his surprise."

I tried to think of an appropriate response, but my mind went blank.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded. "You had all day. You could've said something, but instead, you acted like nothing happened."

"I didn't think it mattered," I said weakly, realizing how bad an excuse that was the moment it left my lips.

Richard laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Didn't matter? Carl, are you kidding me?"

"It wasn't what it looked like," I said quickly. "Damien kissed me, but I didn't—"

"You didn't what?" he snapped, cutting me off. "You didn't kiss him back? You didn't push him fast enough? What, Carl?"

I swallowed hard, feeling cornered. "I was shocked and I didn't know how to—"

"Stop," Richard interrupted, his voice cold. "Just stop. You could've told me the truth, but you didn't. You chose to hide it."

I reached for him, but he stepped back. "Richard—"

"I can't even look at you right now," he said, his voice strained. "I told you about Damien. I warned you, and you ignored me. Now this?"

"I can explain," I said, gripping his arm, but he inhaled sharply, as if my touch burned him.

"I just need to cool off," he muttered. "I feel like I'm losing my mind thinking about the things you might not have told me."

Before I could respond, he grabbed his towel and stormed out of the gym, leaving me standing there, feeling guilty and unsure.

This wasn't how I'd wanted the night to go. Now, I wasn't sure how to fix it or if I even could.