Chapter 5 Ugh! Rules

She strolled into the magnificent Blackwood Manor kitchen to get a glass of water and possibly some ibuprofen after her run-in with the maid on the corridor. At this hour, the home was unusually quiet, with the typical tension lingering like an unsaid presence. She chose to get herself a drink of water rather than wait for a servant after waking up with a headache and a restless sensation.

"My head hurts." As she got a drink of water from the kitchen tap, she said to herself. "In this house, ma'am, we don't drink tap water," Mrs. Hawthorne stated. The elderly woman went into the kitchen to retrieve a jug of water from the refrigerator. She gestures for Selene to give her the glass in her hand by extending her hands. Her keen eyes instantly focused on Selene as she filled her cup with water, as though she had been waiting for her. "Mrs. Blackwood, the staff is here for a reason. You must constantly ask for what you need." Returning the cup to Selene, she said.

Selene paused. "All I needed was some water. I didn't want to cause any trouble." The housekeeper's lips were pursed. "I don't want to annoy anyone." She paused, as though she was considering what to say next. "In this mansion, there are regulations. And you have to do as they say. And our purpose is to help you. It's not a problem." Selene let out a breath. "But why?" Mrs. Hawthorne's eyes became grave. "Mr. Blackwood enjoys orderliness and organisation, and the regulations support that. For example, staying in your room till after 10 p.m."

Selene blinked. "Why is a cutfew included in the regulations? If he just stays in his room and doesn't bother, how will he know I'm out of mine?" "For your personal security." A shiver went through Selene's body. "That is illogical." "Mrs. Blackwood, just follow instructions. The table is set for your breakfast. Before it gets cold, go eat." Selene swallowed her enquiries and walked away, but she still had a lot of questions and needed answers. Why did she feel as though something had just been shielded from her?

Selene was sitting at the long, empty dining table, tapping the mahogany wood with her fingers. With the exception of the gentle clinking of fine china as Mrs. Hawthorne placed a steaming cup of tea in front of her, the large hall was strangely quiet. After taking a sip and enjoying the warmth, Selene turned to look at the vacant seat across from her. The chair of Damien. She looked curiously at Mrs. Hawthorne, who was serving more tea. "Where is Damien? Where is my...?" She still feels uncomfortable referring to him as her husband.

With hardly any hesitation, the housekeeper answered. "Mr. Blackwood's business affairs are early. He doesn't often eat breakfast at home." Selene's eyebrows went up. "Daily?" Mrs. Hawthorne avoided eye contact with her. "Ma'am, he's a very busy man." Selene felt a chill creep into her stomach. One more justification. She put down her cup and let out a sigh. "Is he avoiding me, or is it just business? I seemed to annoy him last night." Mrs. Hawthorne's hand hesitated in the middle of the pour this time. Despite the slightest movement, Selene managed to catch it. It was a clue.

The older woman put down the tea kettle and recovered swiftly. "You should avoid questioning Mr. Blackwood's habits." Selene's eyes narrowed. Although she was unsure of the game Damien was playing, she was determined not to live in silence in her own house. She would go to him if he didn't come to her.

Selene hesitated when she stood in front of Damien's bedroom door. She lifted her fist to knock, her heart racing, but before she could- By itself, the door creaked open. She knitted her brows. Had he not locked it?

She entered cautiously, immediately surrounded by the aroma of new soap and spiced fragrance. Luxurious and coldly precise, the space was faintly illuminated. The fireplace was dark, and the enormous king-sized bed was spotless. Then she caught sight of something else. Another person. Damien Blackwood emerged from the bathroom, still dripping from the shower, and stood close to the corner of the room. Selene gasped for air.

His wide chest gleamed in the gentle morning light streaming in from his floor-to-ceiling window, and a towel was loosely wrapped about his waist. Water droplets trickled from the centre of his pecks to his V-line, following the carved ridges of his torso downward. His abs are shaped like a knife, and his body is well-defined. He had an average muscle build and wasn't too large. His black, wet hair was strewn all across his forehead. He appeared wild for the first time since they first met. Uncooked. Dangerously human. Her throat became parched. She ran out of things to say. She lost sight of her motivation for seeking him.

Damien did not recoil. He simply remained there, holding her in place with his storm-gray eyes. "I'm in my room," he whispered. Selene took a deep breath. "I-" "Have I invited you inside?" There was something else in his low, almost amused voice. Something gloomy. Selene had burns on her cheeks. She compelled herself to stand up. "I knocked. The door was open already." Water trickling from his hair, Damien cocked his head. "You shouldn't enter just because of that." She balled her fingers into fists. "I need to go back to my old flat and get my art supplies." He was silent for a while.

Then, slowly, he approached her. She backed away, closing the door behind her, her pulse thundering. "Are you asking for permission, Selene?" he asked. She detested the way his voice made her skin heat up; it was cold in the room, but she felt like she was on fire. "I'm asking because I deserve to have a life outside of this house," she shot back. "Interesting choice of words," he murmured. Selene's stomach twisted; something in his gaze wasn't quite right.

Selene felt a knot in her stomach. There was something off about the way he looked. He then moved closer, so near she could feel the warmth radiating off his wet skin, before she could react. He put his hand on the door and hovered it over her, pinning her to it. He met her eyes with his own. Gently, he placed his hands on her checks and brushed her face. He gently brushed her lips as he traced them. "All right," he whispered. Selene muttered. "What?" "You can retrieve your belongings." His gaze shifted to her eyes and then to her lips. He turned around and remarked, "But you're not going alone."