Chapter 220
- HAZEL -
My wound has been treated. I’ve taken my antibiotics and had a decent light meal so right now, I’m in the shower, brushing my teeth. I’ve already had my bath, I just want to have a fresher breath when I meet with my parents.
I turn the sink tap on and cup my hand underneath to form a bowl, letting it fill up with water before bringing it to my mouth. With a quick suck, I fill my mouth with water, gurgle, then spit it out and repeat the process, rinsing the insides of my mouth of toothpaste.
It has been so long since I met with my parents and I truly can’t wait to meet them. After all, I’m the youngest child. Imagine the pamper now that I’m injured. A sly grin forms on my face. I’m about to make my existence unbearable to my elder siblings if they’re around.
I adore myself in the mirror for a while, straightening out my hair and whatever I thought needed rearrangement on my body and clothes before heading out. The room is empty. Killian isn’t here. In fact, after he dressed my cast, I haven’t seen him since.
I shrug it off, walking to the door. My luggage is already downstairs and I’m pretty much ready to leave, I’m sure he’s waiting for me there.
I head out of his room and walk the corridor till I stumble at the start of the stairs. Now I make my way down. I always wonder how his home seems so empty yet there are people in it. That must be the perks of having a mansion as huge as this with just one man being the resident in it? Because one thing I know for sure is that this place is crawling with servants yet you won’t even see a strand of their hair laying around or perceive their presence unless they’re called for.
Call me crazy, but I’ve never heard footsteps in this place other than mine. It’s so eerie yet fascinating. Every minute, this man reminds me that there are stages of wealth without rubbing it in my face. I mean come on?! Which regular professor slash business man has amounted such a fortune? He makes teaching as a side hustle a joke.
“Killian I think I’m ready to-“ My body shakes with fear the moment my foot steps on the last step. My eyes widens and my voice hangs in my throat. A familiar feminine cologne slips into my nose. The cologne is elegant and not considered so much to be tagged as choking yet I find it hard to breathe. My air seems restrained as terror brews over every part of my body.