SARAH

I shouldn't be here.

This was a mistake.

This was not going to end up good.

Stop being a chicken for once!

I stood in front of the cottage with a tray in my hand filled with food. The night was pitch black as the sky was cloudy and the moon was hiding behind them. Cold harsh breeze nipped at my skin. The eerie silence and the dangling branches of the tree was also spine chilling. It was giving me creepy vibes.

I tightened my hold on the tray and try to sink in more in my oversized sweater. Apparently Chase had disappeared in this cottage for long 57 hours and he refused to come out. No one had the guts to come here, firstly because they didn't have permission and secondly, they didn't want to be the prey of his scorching anger.

I tried to ask Keven about him but he refused to answer. But when I heard the maids taking among themselves that their "boss" had not eaten anything for 2 long days, I did not think of anything else. Grabbing a plate I filled it with food and came here. Keven and the other guards tried to stop me as nobody was allowed to walk on the gravel path, let alone enter the cottage, but one long hard stare at them and they backed away. As I was walking out I heard Ares murmuring 'Never thought that this ducky can look so intimidating'.

Keven refused to accompany me but he and the others were standing at the end of the path, their hands joined together.

I took a deep breath and licked my lips. They were trembling in cold and anticipation and I swallowed down hard. Finally gaining enough courage and giving myself the pep talk, I knocked on the cottage door softly. The sound would have been barely audible but due to the eerie silence of the forest it echoed slightly.

When I looked back at the place where the maids and the guards were standing a minute ago, to gain some confidence, I didn't find a single soul standing there.

They freaking ran away!?

Cowards!

I was afraid now. What if he murders me inside the cottage. My soul would forever be trapped in this house, and I would haunt the caretaker.

Or what if he cut my body into tiny pieces and decorate the gravel path with them!

Shut up dumbo! You are behaving like a lunatic. What's the worst he can do?

Well, I had no idea. Chase Morgan was a difficult person. He had the power to create an illusion in front of your eyes, and when apparently you would be at your weakest he would strike. His behavior had always confused me always.

Without thinking much, I grabbed the door knob and twisted it open. Stepping inside the cottage I gasped in surprise. It was illuminated with tiny colorful fairy lights, all around the kitchen area and the hearth. It was cozy and homely. There was a tiny bedroom one one side, as the door was slightly ajar and on the other side, wooden stairs lead to the first floor. I kept the tray on the coffee table and checked the bedroom, but found no one inside.

Coming out of the bedroom I looked up at the stairs.

Should I check upstairs?

Licking my lips nervously, I decided not to think much about it. I took the stairs and came up. There was a single room up here and I twisted the door knob to open it.

As soon as the door opened, I took a sharp breath and my eyes widened looking at the sight in front of me.

Hundreds and hundreds of beautifully drawn pictures were scattered all around the room. Brushes, paints, blank canvases, oil paints, crayons, color pencils, watercolor, graphite pencils, kneaded erasers, pallets and various kinds of art supplies were tossed around the room.

There were so many beautiful canvases. I can't stop myself from stepping inside the room as I observe them minutely.

Who drew them? They were so captivating that I can't stop myself from touching them. There were various kinds of pictures, but particularly one picture caught my eye.

It was a pencil sketch of a middle-aged lady. She looked so charismatic and elegant yet loving and soft. The sketch was beautifully done with the strokes contouring each wrinkle on her perfectly imperfect face. The curve of her smile and her eyes narrowed in happiness as she smiled at the artist. It made me wonder, how could a picture look so lively.

But as soon as I raised my hand to touch the picture someone harshly grabbed my wrist and twisted me, pinning me to a nearby wall. My face smashed on the wall. I screamed out in pain but his hold didn't loosen up.

"What are you doing here? Who gave you the permissions to walk in here and touch these things?" His gruff and hoarse voice reached my ears and I shivered in fear. His tone was thick and it almost resembled that one of a beast.

I shuddered out a breath and cried out in pain as he twisted my wrist more and his fingers dig in my wrist.

"FUCKING ANSWER ME!" He roared out and I screamed in fear.

"I...I came here to...." He didn't let me finish and swirled me around holding my shoulders. He banged me again on the wall and his fists slammed on both sides of my head.

I closed my eyes tightly. Fear would be an understatement for what I was feeling now. I was terrified of him. It seemed as if I had awakened a beast. He slid his fingers into my hair and fisted them angling my face towards him. Though he looked like he wasn't in the right state of mind right now, but his hold wasn't hurting me. It was firm but not painful.

I whimpered and opened my eyes when he lightly tugged them and looked at his face. He was towering over my small frame. His face was red with anger. Eyes bloodshot red and his veins was throbbing on his neck. A muscle ticked on his forehead as he bared his teeth at me. His other hand was on my waist.

"Leave right now," he whispered out, breathing heavily. I was gawking at him, my mouth opened slightly.

Yes, I was afraid of him but his eyes were looking so terrifyingly beautiful I couldn't seem to break the gaze. They have never been so pitch-deep brown before. It was darkly attractive and they were luring me towards them.

Grabbing my shoulders he shook me and roared out, "GET OUT OF HERE SARAH BEFORE YOU REGRET WALKING IN!!"

I knew I shouldn't stay here for a single minute. I knew he wasn't in his right state of mind, and it could be lethal for me. I knew I should walk away from him right now. I should take a step back and walk out of this cottage. I knew I shouldn't get involved in his life, when my only purpose here was to give him an heir.

But I didn't.

Instead I did something I thought I never would. I might probably regret doing this for my entire life, but right now, I felt this was the right thing to do.

I don't know what came upon me at that time, but I felt I need to do this. He was in pain and I wanted to ease his pain.

Standing up on my tiptoes I wrapped my hands around his neck, embracing him. He was bent slightly or else it would have been impossible for me to hug him.

As soon as my body wrapped around him, his muscles stiffen more. He stopped breathing for a second and stood his ground rigid, hands dangling on both sides of him. He seemed shocked. I don't think he expected this kind of reaction from me.

I held on to him as if my life dependent on it. Hands tightly wrapped around his neck and my forehead resting on his broad taut shoulder. His back rigid and stiff as a board.

Taking a deep breath I rested my forehead on his front delts, which were tensed. He was inhaling sharp breaths and his posture was rigid.

After what felt like an hour, he grabbed my waist with both of his hands and tried to pry me off himself, jerking me away. But I stood my ground immobile and tightened my hold on his neck. He was trying to reject my touch, resisting my help.

He again tried to push me back, but this time I felt, though his hold had tightened, his efforts were less. He was applying less energy in fending me off. His resolution was weakening.

I kept my hold on his neck tight, my front part completely guarded my his broad chest, shoulders and torso. I needed to do this.

No, I have to do this.

After trying for a minute he gave up and snaked his arms around my waist, burying his face deep into my neck, taking a deep breath and inhaling my scent. It gave goosebumps on my body, and I took a sharp breath when his stubble poked the base of my neck and collarbone. It sent pleasurable chills down by spine and I shuddered in a desirable feeling.

He visibly relaxed under my palms and tried to sink in my embrace. The way he squeezed my tiny form in his arms, ias if he was trying to gain his energy back from me. My forehead now resting on his bulgy chest muscles. This was igniting tiny sparks of desire and greed in my body for something, or particular someone.

We stood in the same position for what felt like hours, but when I tried to pull back, his body got tensed and his arms clenched around my body. As I tried to wiggle free, he crashed me back to his chest and sank down onto the floor, me straddling him. His big calloused hands were now on my back and his face was still buried in the crook of my neck.

This time I slowly tried to pull back and he let me, though I was still straddling him. Looking at his face I saw his beautiful chocolate eyes were dull and were lacking the usual fire or mischievousness in them. He had dark circles around them and his hair disheveled as if he pulled them and ran his hands through them several times. His face was blank but it looked tired.

I adjusted myself and sat on his lap sideways, as he rested his back on a wall. His behavior was so different from his usual cruel nature. I didn't know what to think of this new man, I was seeing right now.

Not knowing what to say, I sat mute on his lap. I somehow controlled his temper but what if he lash out on me, if I try to feed him.

He was looking at me with a piercing scrutiny as his eyes bore into my face. His stare was unflinching but somehow warm. His look was making me nervous but at the same time self-conscious and anticipation coursed through my veins. Unable to match his deep gaze I looked down. I gasped and me eyes widened when I saw his hand.

His knuckles were badly scraped and had dried blood on them. I winced in pain when I saw him fisting and a little blood started pouring out of his wounded pores. Unable to bear the sight I slowly untangle myself from him to bring the first-aid box. But he didnt let me. He grabbed my wrist in a strong hold and looked at me with pleading eyes.

I shook my head negatively and said in a soft voice, "I'm not going anywhere. I will just bring the first-aid box."

He was still not sure as I saw uncertainty in his eyes but I would have to do it. He was injured and hungry. He needed food in his system and I had to treat his wounds too.

I raised my trembling hands and softly kept it on his cheek stroking it, trying to reassure him. My warm hand was nestled between his neck and cheek and he leaned into my touch.

"I won't leave, ever," I said, my eyes boring into his chocolate brown orbs and he reluctantly nodded.

I quickly stood up and ran down. Rummaging through the kitchen, I found the first-aid kid in one of it's cabinets. Taking the food tray in one hand the first-aid kit in another, I walked back to the room.

His gaze was still on the door as if waiting for my return and his posture was slouched. As soon as I went back he let out an audible sigh, relaxing.

Keeping the food tray on the floor beside him, I sat down in front of him taking his hand on my lap. Within a second he pulled me back into his lap and I gasped in surprise. As soon as our position registered in my brain I got all bothered and hot.

Relax, you have to treat his wound. It's not the right time to get turned on.

I swallowed, and took his hands back in mine again. Taking out the antiseptic wipes I slowly cleaned them, blowing softly on his knuckles. His eyes were fixed on my face as I slowly disinfect his bloody knuckles. He did not even flinch for once, as if his pains were getting absorbed by someone else.

The silence was heavy and the atmosphere was getting frigid, so I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind, while treating his wounds, "The sketch is beautiful".

I bit my tongue as soon as the words came out. I remembered how exactly he behaved when I tried to touch the picture.

I looked at him tentatively from under my lashes to see his reaction. His face was calm and soft as he looked behind me, probably gazing at the sketch.

"Its my mother," he whispered out gently. This was the first time I saw him taking so softly.

This was the first time, he reacted like this too. Beastly and monstrous one minute and vulnerable and broken the other.

"She is beautiful. Who drew it?" I said as I stared at him. His face masked up in love and warmth for his mother as I saw his longing eyes.

He kept his eyes still at me and that's when realisation dawned upon me. He drew it.

OMG! He is an artist. The dangerous mafia leader, whose secret talent is drawing. That's wonderful!

Indeed it was. I love drawing and painting. But from the very beginning I suck in that field. The pictures I drew in the past were horrible than those a 2 year old toddler can draw.

"You are very talented," I whispered out softly, my head resting on his chest as I clean his wounds.

"I can only make pencil sketches. I am not good with any sort of colors. Black and dark are the only thing I can deal easily with as my life revolves around darkness," he replied me back in a hoarse voice.

"So, the rest of the pictu....?"

"She painted them. My mother was an excellent artist. Though she was not professional she had always loved art and most of the time she used to spend time here, in this cottage. It was her small art studio. This cottage was built for her by Andrew so that she can come here anytime, as drawing and painting was her favorite pastime and hobby. The forest provided her excellent ideas too."

"I can see where you got your talent from. She was a talented and beautiful lady and you ar...." As I was replying to him, I felt a small peck on my right temple.

And then again. A soft gentle peck.

I looked at his face surprised at his sudden acts. My eyes widened and my mouth opened like a fish as his eyes softly gazed at me.

And then, he pressed his lips on my forehead leaving a lingering kiss there.

I closed my eyes in containment and took a deep breath.

Forehead kiss?Did he just gave me a forehead kiss?

Papa always use to say, ''A kiss on the forehead is thousand times more expensive than millions of kisses on the lips.'

I felt my heart swelled up by his simple gesture. Butterflies erupted in my stomach and I felt giddy.

After giving the kiss he pulled back and leaned his forehead on mine. Automatically, a small smile came to my lips as I looked at him, his eyes boring into mine. The feeling was strange but very welcoming. I shivered a little in nervousness.

Swallowing down hard, I looked back to his hands and finished the task in my hand. After cleaning his wounds, I carefully wrapped his knuckles in bandage, making sure that the knot didn't get too tight which can hurt his sensitive injured knuckles. He didn't tear his gaze from my face and I shivered a little, my tongue poking out to moisten my dry lips.

After bandaging his wounds, I looked back at him. His head was tilted to a side and he was carefully observing me. I gently took his hand in mine and gave a small gentle kiss on each knuckle, my eyes fixed on him.

If possible his gaze softened more. Warmth swarming in his eyes and he exhaled deeply. He cradled my head back to his chest, one hand at the back of my head and another wrapped around me protectively.

I felt deeply connected with him at this moment. Our hearts beating together as my head laid on his chest, I could hear the lub-dub.

I opened my eyes and they fell on the tray. Sitting up straight, I looked back at him and said, "I have brought something for you. You need to eat."

His gaze didn't even flicker as he replied back, "Feed me?"

It was more of a request than a command.

I looked back at him as my eyes as big as the size of saucers.

Feed him? I...have to feed him?

For some particular reason feeding someone was quite an intimate action for me. My cheeks flared with heat as blush crept on my neck and face. It wasn't something very sensual for others, but for me it was.

I swallowed hard as my breath hitched and slowly with trembling hands, I took the tray on my lap. It was a cheese grilled sandwich that I prepared for him. Carefully picking it up in my hands I brought the piece of sandwich in front of his mouth and he look a large bite.

His eyes were fixed on my face as he chewed the food and swallowed down. When I hold the piece in front of him again, he shook his head negatively.

Was it not tasty? My cooking skills were nothing but bad but I was sure I could prepare a good sandwich.

But what happened next gave me another surprise today. He took my hand in his and slowly inched the sandwich towards my mouth urging me to take a bite.

There was a limit my heart could take and today I have seen too much. My heart felt as if it would burst out. Today I saw so many sides of Chase Morgan, it's hard for my brain to take this much.

Giving him a small smile. I took a small bite of the sandwich and again held it in front of his mouth. He took the whole thing in his mouth this time.

After he swallowed down I asked him very reluctantly "Was it good?"

"It is the best I have ever tasted."

<<~~~~~~~~~~~~∆~~~~~~~~~~~~>>

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