Chapter 4: Woman, You're Finally in My Hands!

Just as Sia Thubron tried to get a clear look at who had stepped out of the car, the man pulled his foot back, slammed the door shut, and sped off without a second glance. Sia: ??? The butler had seen it clearly. It was the Second Young Master. He simply chose not to expose it. "Young Mistress, please don't take it to heart. One of the household bodyguards probably had something urgent to handle. He didn't mean to offend you." Sia didn't dwell on it. She nodded and started up the stairs. "May I ask… was your Young Mr. Yoxal sick just now?" Her voice was light and sweet, careful as it drifted through the hall. "Yes," the butler replied, following behind with a respectful posture. "But you needn't worry too much, ma'am." Sia's face flickered with a small, startled pause. "Oh my God… so he really…" *That's amazing.* The longer the treatment took, the better. That way she wouldn't have to meet the rumored tyrant at all. On the outside, she looked properly shocked. On the inside, she practically wanted to jump up and throw a victory sign. She was so pleased she forgot to watch her step. Her foot slipped on the stair edge and she nearly pitched forward, catching herself on the railing at the last second. Sia wanted to melt into the floor. "Careful, ma'am," the butler said. "Were you worried about Young Mr. Yoxal?" "Yes," Sia answered smoothly, steadying herself. Her brows knit together in a perfect imitation of concern. "I hope Young Mr. Yoxal recovers soon and comes home." She let out a long, wistful sigh, the kind that could make anyone think she was some tragic bride separated from her beloved. But from the angle the butler couldn't see, her soft pink face was glowing with a smile she couldn't hide. Her eyes sparkled, lively as a little sprite. Sia had heard the rumors about Young Mr. Yoxal. Deep down, she wanted to stay as far away as possible. Unfortunately, she didn't have the right to avoid him. All she could do was pray he stayed in the hospital for three to five years, maybe eight or ten, and only came back after her wings had hardened enough for her to run. If she had to face him right away, she wouldn't dare, even with ten times her courage. "Please don't worry, Young Mistress," the butler continued, repeating what he had been instructed to say. "Young Mr. Yoxal said he won't restrict your freedom. Other than marrying into the Yoxal family, your previous life will remain the same. If you need anything, you may ask. Young Mr. Yoxal will satisfy it." A hint of surprise surfaced on Sia's pale face. If she could keep her own life… then she needed to treasure it. If the timing was right, she could even take her grandmother and- "I can continue my studies and work?" Sia's bright eyes lifted to the butler at her side. "Of course," he said. "But it will require Young Mr. Yoxal's approval." "Oh." Sia bit her lip lightly. Beneath her long lashes, her clear eyes looked innocent, but something sly glimmered in their depths. "This way, Young Mistress." The butler pushed open a bedroom door on the second floor. Sia froze. A blazing red bed dominated the room. The decor was minimalist and cool-toned, almost austere. That bright red wedding quilt was so vivid it looked out of place, like a flare thrown into snow. "You should rest first," the butler said. "If you need anything, just call for me." Sia nodded. The butler bowed and withdrew, closing the door behind him. He headed downstairs to call Liam Hawksford and report. The Second Young Master had given strict orders. No matter what the Young Mistress did, he needed to know immediately. … Alone in the unfamiliar bridal room, Sia stood there with a hollow sort of uncertainty. She walked to the bed, half-expecting to find a photo of him, some trace of the man she had married. There was nothing. She didn't even have the marriage certificate in her hands. Of course there wouldn't be clues lying around in the room. So what kind of person was he, really? Curiosity stirred, then reality slammed it back down. She decided it was better not to be curious. Staying alive mattered more. A man that rich, yet no woman dared marry him? He had to be terrifying. The rumors flashed through her mind, and she shivered. Thank goodness she didn't have to face him today. Otherwise, she truly didn't know what would happen to her. She didn't dare go near the bed again. Instead, she removed the veil that trailed for several meters and set aside the crown, rolling her stiff neck. Then she went to the sofa and sank into it, thinking about what the butler had said. If that Young Mr. Yoxal would approve her having a job… what if she found one that required constant business trips? Would he agree? But what job could serve as an excuse to be away all year? Mining in Africa? Hand-feeding jaguars in the wild? Her imagination ran wild until she defeated herself. She didn't have the strength to mine, and raising big cats sounded like a great way to get eaten. Besides, he might not even approve it. She shook her head, tossing the ridiculous thoughts aside. She would find a better plan. Or she could just curse that Young Mr. Yoxal into never coming home. That sounded more realistic. With that, Sia pressed her palms together, solemn as if praying, and performed her first curse of the day. Not too harsh. Just make her new husband a little frail, the kind of frail that couldn't leave the hospital, but not in any life-threatening way. Heaven, please. Heaven, please. … Late at night, the air grew heavy with dew. A black Rolls-Royce rolled quietly into the villa grounds. Its headlights stayed off, the car swallowed by darkness. It stopped. A tall, straight figure stepped out in a perfectly tailored suit. He cut through the thick night and drifting white mist, his brows and features cloaked in a cold, detached aura. There was a kind of nobility in him that seeped from the bone, the sort of presence that commanded without needing to raise its voice. Hearing the movement, the butler hurried out to greet him. "Second Young Master… why are you back?" The butler couldn't help his curiosity. The Second Young Master had always cared for the Eldest Young Master with meticulous devotion, handling everything personally. Why had he returned home in the middle of the night? "Where is she?" Liam Hawksford asked, voice low, already striding into the villa. "The Young Mistress has fallen asleep," the butler reported honestly. "Her door is locked from the inside. She didn't eat dinner. We tried to wake her, but she didn't respond." "Key." The butler produced a key and handed it over. Liam didn't slow. He headed straight up the spiral staircase. Click. A soft sound as the key slid in and the lock turned. The room lay dim, lit only by a thin wash of moonlight from the window. In the hush, even the smallest noise seemed sharp. But Sia slept on, undisturbed. Liam stepped inside. His expression was severe, his features sharply carved, like a god pulled from an oil painting. In the darkness, he walked toward Sia, his tall frame wrapped in an ominous, secretive chill. He stopped beside the sofa, lowered his gaze, and studied her delicate little face in the hazy moonlight. That morning, she had fled from his bed. When he saw her again, she had become his bride in a wedding dress. Curled in the corner of the sofa, she hugged a pillow and slept, her breathing shallow and quiet. In sleep, she looked like a well-behaved child. Pure. Harmless. The complete opposite of the woman from last night. Liam's ink-black eyes narrowed. The memory of those humiliating fifty dollars from that morning surfaced, and he forced the anger down. He forced it down in his chest. His hand, however, punished first. He reached out and pinched Sia's soft, pale cheek hard. A little revenge. At last, she had fallen into his hands. "Mm!" Sia stirred, dragged out of sleep by the sharp pain. Still half-dazed, she rubbed her eyes. In the dim light, she suddenly caught sight of a person standing right in front of her. Her beautiful eyes flew wide, horror crashing over her. "Aaaaah!" "A ghost!" Sia clapped her hands over her eyes and shrank deeper into the sofa, trembling from head to toe. Liam hadn't expected that one pinch would actually wake her.