He walked ahead without stopping.
And she followed.
Quietly, carefully, her fingers still holding onto the coat wrapped around her shoulders.
The deeper they moved inside the mansion, the heavier everything felt.
The walls were dark, the lights dim, and the silence stretched endlessly. Every corner reflected control, as if nothing existed here without purpose.
It reminded her of him.
Cold. Controlled. Unreadable.
Her steps were slow, hesitant, her eyes wandering across the interior. Everything looked expensive, yet there was no warmth in it.
Only presence.
Only power.
They reached the staircase, and she paused for a second before following him again. Each step felt louder than it should.
Her heartbeat matched the rhythm.
Fast.
Unsteady.
He suddenly stopped.
She didn't.
Her body lightly bumped into his back, and she immediately stepped away.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to—" her voice came out soft and shaky.
"There's no need to apologize."
His voice cut through her words, calm and steady.
"You're nervous," he added. "It's obvious."
She fell silent.
Because he was right.
Without thinking, she bit her lower lip, trying to steady herself.
For a brief second, his jaw tightened.
But he said nothing.
Instead, he opened the door in front of him and walked inside.
She followed after a moment.
Carefully this time.
The moment she stepped in—
She froze.
The room was nothing like the rest of the house.
Soft lighting replaced the darkness.
The atmosphere felt lighter, calmer.
A large bed stood in the center, covered in smooth lavender sheets that reflected the gentle light. The curtains moved slightly, adding a quiet softness to the space.
Everything here felt… different.
Her eyes moved slowly across the room, taking in the details.
Nothing was harsh.
Nothing was cold.
It didn't feel like the mansion.
It didn't feel like him.
It felt—
Peaceful.
A quiet breath escaped her lips.
She turned toward him, confusion clear in her expression.
"This room…" she started softly.
He looked at her.
"It's yours," he said.
Her heart skipped.
The word felt unfamiliar.
Yours.
No one had ever said that to her before.
No one had ever given her something like this.
She looked around again, her chest tightening slightly.
"This was… prepared for me?" she asked.
"Yes."
No hesitation.
No explanation.
Just a simple answer.
She didn't know why, but that made her more unsettled.
Because this wasn't random.
This was intentional.
Every detail.
Every choice.
Made for her.
And that thought—
Felt dangerous.