CHAPTER 6

Atticus woke up in an unfamiliar room.

Panicking, she bolted upright from the soft bed and looked around the place. Where am I? she wondered. She got out of bed and nearly tripped over a backpack on the floor. As her eyes landed on the bag, memories of the past few hours came crashing back.

She let out a sigh of relief when she remembered where she was. She was currently in the penthouse of Phoenix Everette, working as his helper. But why was she in the bed?

The last thing she remembered was falling asleep on the sofa. Did Phoenix carry her and place her on the bed? The thought made her heart skip a beat. But she quickly shook her head and dismissed the idea. No. Maybe I just forgot that I came into the room and lay down here. She nodded to herself, agreeing with her own explanation.

She picked up her backpack, placed it in the closet, and checked herself in the mirror to see if she looked presentable before heading out of the room.

When she reached the living room, Atticus bit her lip. The entire penthouse was eerily quiet and pitch dark. She couldn’t hear or see anything. It was creeping her out!

“This is not okay,” she muttered before spinning on her heels to return to her room. She was so scared that she ran.

But before she could reach the door, she bumped into something—or someone—in the darkness, feeling a cold liquid spill across her chest.

“Fuck!”

She blinked in surprise at the familiar baritone voice. Her fear dissipated instantly as soon as she heard it. Phoenix’s voice.

“Sir Phoenix?” she called out, unable to see him in the darkness.

She frowned when she heard footsteps approaching but still couldn’t make him out. “Sir Phoenix—”

The lights suddenly turned on.

She let out a breath of relief. “Finally, there’s light!”

“Why the hell are you awake?” an irritated voice greeted her.

Atticus quickly stood up and turned in the direction of the voice. Phoenix was standing by the light switch, holding a glass that was almost empty.

She glanced down at her soaked chest. Was that what spilled on her?

“I’m asking you, Atticus. Why are you still awake?” he repeated, his annoyance evident.

“Ahm,” she cleared her throat nervously. “Because… I woke up.”

“Obviously,” he said with sarcasm. “You’re standing there, aren’t you? The question is, why did you wake up?”

“Ahm, because… I just woke up,” she said, cringing at his glare. She quickly added, “Ahm, I went out of my room because…” Wait, why did she go out? “Just because. I went out, then it was dark in the living room, so I ran because I got scared, and then I bumped into you. I’m sorry, Sir Phoenix.”

His expression softened slightly. “You’re still afraid of the dark,” he murmured, so quietly she wasn’t sure if she heard him right.

“I’m really sorry, Sir Phoenix,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Let me get you another glass of water.”

His gaze dropped to the glass in his hand, as if only now realizing it was almost empty. Then his eyes shifted back to her, and they lingered on her chest.

Atticus felt her cheeks burn. She knew he was just looking at the wet stain, but it still felt like he was staring at her other assets. She shook the ridiculous thought out of her head. Why would Phoenix Everette look at her chest with lust? No way. That’s just her imagination!

“Sir Phoenix?” she called, snapping him out of his gaze.

He cleared his throat and looked away. “Go change. I’ll get my own water.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“There’s food in the fridge. I brought it when I got home earlier. Heat it up if you’re hungry.”

She nodded quickly and hurried back to her room.

After changing into fresh clothes, she stepped out and was relieved that the lights were still on. She made her way to the kitchen, her stomach growling loudly in protest.

When she entered, she froze. Phoenix was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at the microwave as if waiting for something.

“Sir—”

“I told you to call me Phoenix, didn’t I?” he cut her off sharply.

She pressed her lips together and then said, “Yes.”

“So drop the ‘Sir’ and just call me Phoenix.” He turned to look at her. “Is that so hard to do, Atticus?”

She shook her head, unable to tear her gaze away from his green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. She could stare at them all day.

“Go eat,” he said, snapping her out of her trance.

Atticus blinked rapidly and looked away, embarrassed. Did he notice I was staring? How humiliating!

“I already heated your dinner. You’re so slow,” he teased.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, trying to regain her composure.

He simply nodded and placed a bowl of pork sinigang on the table. Her mouth watered. It was her favorite dish!

“Thanks again,” she said shyly, giving him a small smile. She grabbed a plate, served herself some rice, and started eating enthusiastically.

As she enjoyed her meal, Atticus noticed Phoenix was still there. When she glanced up, she caught him staring at her.

Her heart skipped a beat. Why is he looking at me like that?

“Ahm,” she hesitated but decided to ask, “Do you want to eat?”

He seemed startled by her voice and quickly blinked before shaking his head. “I already ate.”

“Are you sure? You don’t want to eat?” She smiled at him, gesturing toward the sinigang. “There’s plenty of food. You can eat again. Join me.”

An unreadable emotion flashed in his eyes, but he nodded. “Sure.”

Her smile widened. “You’ll eat? Really?”

He nodded again and sat across from her.

Excited, Atticus stood up, grabbed a plate, served him some rice, and placed it carefully in front of him.

“Here you go,” she said, her heart inexplicably happy at the thought of eating with him. “Here’s the dish, too.”

She sat back down and continued eating. If she was already eating with him earlier, her appetite doubled now that Phoenix was eating with her.

They ate in silence, both focused on their food. When they finished, neither of them spoke.

Atticus chuckled softly when she heard Phoenix burp.

“God, I’m full,” he said, rubbing his stomach.

She poured him a glass of water. “Drink.”