"Boss! The Porsche is silver! It's not Miss Australia!" Enzo's voice broke through the suffocating tension like a sudden crack of thunder.
Raymond's head snapped toward the window, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as he locked onto the mangled wreckage of the car ahead. In an instant, the crushing weight on his chest evaporated. A violent wave of relief crashed over him, forcing a jagged, heavy breath from his lungs. "Thank God," he muttered, his voice a low, raspy whisper he rarely used.
"Yes, Boss. It's definitely not."
The vulnerability that had briefly consumed Raymond vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced instantly by his usual, cold efficiency. His fingers uncoiled from the leather of Enzo's headrest, though the self-inflicted cuts on his palms from his own nails still stung.
"We leave now!" Raymond commanded, his tone returning to a dangerous, icy rumble. "This incident has already cost us too much time.
*****
The heavy, ethereal melodies of a mystical instrumental track drifted through the vapor, wrapping the bathroom in a cocoon of sensory indulgence. Phoebe exhaled a soft sigh, setting her book down on the marble ledge. She reached for her glass, taking a slow sip of the chilled citrus drink, letting the sharp, refreshing tang cut through the heavy warmth of the room.
Submerged in the pastel-pink water, the result of a lavish bath bomb, she let the rich aroma of vanilla and eucalyptus drown out the chaotic, searing thoughts that usually plagued her mind. In this sanctuary, stripped of her corporate armor and clothes, she was finally at peace.
Time lost its meaning. As the heat began to turn oppressive, her fingers lazily reached for the digital control panel built into the rim of the bathtub, intending to switch the water to a cooler cycle.
But as her eyes fluttered open, her gaze didn't land on the ambient screen displaying calming visuals. Instead, it locked onto a tall, imposing silhouette standing right in front of her.
Raymond stood there, his powerful frame cutting through the white mist. The moment their eyes met, a soft, gleaming smile spread across his handsome face.
"Relaxing, sweetheart?" His voice was dripping with an unnerving, quiet tenderness.
"Heh! Since when have you been in my bathroom?!" Phoebe gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. Stunned by his sudden, impossible presence, she instinctively rubbed her eyes. But her hands were damp with the potent essential oils of the bath, and a sharp, sudden sting flared across her vision. "Au!"
Raymond immediately took a step forward, his hand extending to help.
"Stop! Right there! Don't you dare come any closer!" Phoebe shrieked, kicking her legs slightly to stir up the pastel bubbles, desperately trying to shield herself. Even though the opaque pink water hid her completely, she knew Raymond's dark imagination was already tracing the lines of her submerged body.
Fumbling blindly, her hand found the small basin of fresh, cold water she had kept nearby. She splashed her face quickly, blinking away the sting until her vision cleared, glaring up at him with pure venom.
"Why are you in my bathroom? This is trespassing! You absolute bastard!"
Rather than taking offense, Raymond merely let out a low, amused chuckle. He gave a slow, deliberate nod. "I am simply obeying your request, Miss Fortunata."
"When did I ever request you into my bathroom? Are you insane?!"
"You didn't request me into your bathroom," Raymond countered smoothly, crossing his arms as his eyes locked onto her exposed, glistening shoulders and the elegant curve of her collarbone. "But you did tell me to see you within twenty-four hours. Am I wrong?"
Phoebe's tongue tied. He wasn't technically wrong, but this was entirely out of context. She stared at him in a stunned silence, while Raymond maintained his faint, guiltless smirk. He wasn't looking at anything improper, the colored water kept her modesty intact, but his gaze lingering on her damp, flushed face was intimate enough to make her skin burn hotter than the bath.
She wanted to demand how on earth he had bypassed her estate's high-end security, but knowing his vast, terrifying resources, she swallowed the question, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
"I did say that, but that doesn't mean you can break into my private bathroom and ruin my peace!"
"I apologize for the intrusion. But rest assured …" Raymond tilted his head, his dark eyes darkening with a teasing glint. "I only stepped inside five minutes ago. So … I haven't caught a glimpse of your beautiful body."
"You foul-mouthed jerk!" Phoebe cursed, incredulous at how effortlessly the shameless words left his lips. "If you wanted to keep your word, you should have waited outside! At the very least, outside the bathroom door!"
"And who can guarantee me that your presence in here wouldn't cause the twenty-four hours you gave me to expire?"
The sheer audacity of his logic was maddening. "Uh, damn it! You've completely ruined my mood! My peace is gone!"
"You can continue. Don't mind me, I won't interfere."
"I am already disturbed!" In her mounting fury, Phoebe impulsively began to rise from the water to confront him, but the sudden rush of cool air against her bare skin snapped her brain back to reality. With a panicked gasp, she splashed heavily back down into the tub. "Arh! Why are you even here?!"
She was fiercely mad at herself, why did her brain stop functioning the moment he was around? Raymond's smile only widened at her flustered state.
"I will wait outside if you wish to come out now. Don't worry, I respect your privacy," Raymond murmured softly, though his tone held a dangerous, prophetic weight. "After all … that beautiful body will be mine soon anyway."
"Never! That is entirely impossible!"
"I have a habit of turning the impossible into my destiny." Raymond gave her a final, burning look.
"Get out, you arrogant prick! Just get out!"
Receiving her final banishment, Raymond finally nodded, but before he turned on his heel, he reached for the plush bathrobe hanging on the door, unhooking it and placing it within her arm's reach on the counter. It was a small, silent gesture, but it spoke volumes of his terrifying attentiveness toward her.
Phoebe snatched the robe aggressively, remaining frozen as she watched his broad back disappear through the doorway, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him.
"Damn it!" she whispered to herself, scrambling out of the tub and wrapping the robe tightly around her shivering frame. She leaned against the sink, trying to slow her hammering pulse. "No stranger has ever breached my home this easily, but him … this proves he isn't stranger at all."
Phoebe dried herself quickly, her mind racing in circles as she tried to process the chaotic shift in the atmosphere. And besides … in this twisted game, who is actually at fault here?
*****
"I don't have the energy to walk out of this room," Phoebe muttered, her voice laced with exhaustion as she leaned against the counter. "Since you've already breached my bedroom anyway … we'll talk on the balcony."
"Put your clothes on first, Miss Fortunata." Raymond instructed softly.
His eyes swept over her. She was still enveloped in the oversized bathrobe, her damp hair bundled up in a plush towel.
Phoebe's brows furrowed, her gaze sharp with immediate suspicion. "For what? I am covered well enough right now."
"You said we're talking on the balcony," Raymond countered, his deep voice carrying a trace of protective authority. "If you go out there just wearing a robe, the afternoon breeze will hit you. I have no desire to see your illness get worse. Or …" A slow, devastatingly handsome smile played on his lips. "… if you insist on going out like that, we can talk on the balcony with you wrapped tightly in my arms."
Phoebe's eyes widened into perfect circles. The sheer audacity of his proposal left her stunned for a split second before the fury rushed back. "Go to hell! Your mind is nothing but filth, you bastard!"
Raymond merely shrugged, entirely unfazed by her outburst.
Phoebe marched toward her walk-in closet, pausing at the threshold to glare back at him. "Turn around right now or I'll kick you out myself!"
Her temper was peaking, but the fiery display only made Raymond find her more captivating. "Go ahead. I'll respect your privacy."
True to his word, Raymond turned on his heel, facing the opposite wall. Phoebe checked twice, narrowing her eyes to ensure he hadn't left a single to peek, but he remained completely still, like a statue of dark velvet.
Satisfied, she quickly changed into a comfortable lounge set. Phoebe stepped out onto the balcony, her bare feet welcoming the smooth stone. The afternoon sun was glaringly bright, casting sharp shadows across the terrace, but a sudden, violent gust of wind swept through the estate, rustling the treetops and bringing a welcome wave of coolness to her feverish skin. She leaned against the railing, her profile bathed in sunlight, before turning her cold eyes back toward the man who had invaded her space.
"Straight to the point." Phoebe's voice cutting through the whistling wind. "How exactly do you plan to take responsibility for my life? Because …"
"Because you are carrying my heir?" Raymond cut her off, the question leaving his lips with a rare trace of hesitation, as if he were still wrestling with the sheer weight of the words.
Phoebe's entire body went rigid. Her brows furrowed in sheer, unadulterated bewilderment, the sharp retort dying on her tongue as the air in her lungs evaporated. She stared at him, her eyes searching his fiercely controlled expression for any sign of a bluff.
"You … you know I'm pregnant?" she breathed, her voice dropping into a strained whisper that was nearly swallowed by the wind.