06.

Riley’s POV

I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling thirsty. I

The environment seemed different from the usual before it dawned on me.

The events of the previous day came flooding back—the hospital, Ryder, and Mr. King's mansion.

I was in Mr. King's mansion, but I had no idea where the kitchen was.

I threw off the covers and got out of bed, my bare feet padding softly on the cold floor.

I walked to the door and opened it, peeking out into the dark hallway. The mansion was huge, and I had no idea where I was going but then decided to follow my instincts and explore, hopeful I would stumble upon the kitchen.

As I reached the stairs, I heard a faint sound of glass shattering on the floor. My heart dropped, and I froze, my ears perked up.

The sound seemed to come from a room to my left. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should go check it out or mind my business and work on getting to the kitchen.

Yet the curiosity within me was piqued. I slowly marched to the room.

The door was closed as I placed my hand on the knob. I tried to fight with my curiosity and walk away; it’s not like it’s any of my business.

Heaving out a breath, I pushed open the door, and a strong scent of male perfume and aura hit my nostrils.

The room was dimly lit, but I could see clearly that it was a masculine space.

As I walked further in, my eyes sighted a figure struggling to get up from the floor.

My eyes widened, realizing it was Mr. King. I hurriedly rushed to his side, my bare feet making barely a sound on the soft carpet.

"Mr. King, are you okay?" I asked, trying to help him up.

He groaned, his face contorted in pain. I could see that he was bleeding in the same spot he was operated on.

"What happened?" I asked, cupping his chiseled jaw, his dominating eyes falling into mine.

Tingling crawled down my skin as my heart rate escalated.

He held my wrist softly as his jawline hardened.

“Get me the first aid.” His harsh voice came brewing unexplainable jitters within me.

I’ve never met anyone that soundly as manly and husky as him.

This may be the wrong time to be thinking about things like this, so I snapped out of it.

“No. I’ll get Ryder; we need to take you back to the hospital. You’re bleeding,” I reasoned, pulling away and trying to get up and go get help, but his grip on my wrist held firmly, and I froze.

“First Aid.” He repeats his tune, reverberating within me.

I gulped a lump, nodding, before pulling away and marching to the bathroom to get it.

I got the first aid and returned.

I gently helped him to his feet, trying not to hurt him further.

He leaned heavily on me, his weight making me stumble.

"Let's get you to bed," I said.

Mr. King nodded, his eyes closed. I slowly helped him to the bed, trying not to jostle him too much. As we reached the bed, he collapsed onto it, exhausted.

He collected the first aid from me, taking out the necessities.

He lifted his shirt; my eyes widened as they came in contact with his abs and broad chest.

I bit on my bottom lip, tearing my stare away and mumbling curses under my breath, and I could swear I almost heard him chuckle.

He groaned as the spirit came in contact with his wound.

“Take this and cover it up,” he orders, handing me the bandage.

I shook my head, my hands quivering uncontrollably. The sight of blood made my stomach churn, triggering a deep-seated phobia.

It was a painful reminder of my mom, and the memories came flooding back.

"Riley," Mr. King snapped, his voice shrill with urgency.

"I—I can't do this," I stuttered, bolting up from the bed in fear.

He grunted, his face twisted in pain. "It's either you help me or watch me bleed to death. Which one is it?" He demanded, his voice low and menacing.

I tried to speak, but my voice caught in my throat. He hissed, growling in pain as he shifted slightly. I watched in horror as blood oozed out of the wound; panic increased.

Oh for God's sake, what have I gotten myself into?

I sat back, just instantly building up the courage, and reached for the bandage. I shut my eyes as I placed the bandage on the wound, feeling the warm metallic substance on my fingertips.

I bit my bottom lip hard, shutting my eyes as I worked on closing the wound.

I could feel his stare on me, a lone tear slipping from my eyes.

“That’s enough.” He stops my eyes from spilling open.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, getting up.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

I nodded.

His stare was glued to a specific place on my figure as I stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.

I followed his stare, wondering what had his eyelids dark and entertained, realizing that my right breast was out in the open for his hungry eyes.

My heart drops tracing my stare back to him, watching how his Adam’s apple bulbs up and down.

I hurriedly fixed the straps of my nightgown, snapping him back to reality.

“I should go,” I announce, rushing out without waiting for his response.