Chapter 1: Waking Up

PEONY's POV

 

I rubbed my eyes as I rose from the bed. A sharp headache took me by surprise.

 

"I didn't have any alcohol last night," I murmured to myself, opening my eyes.

 

Even with the throbbing pain, I forced myself to get up, realizing this wasn't my room. It was far too grand and beautiful compared to what I was used to.

 

Where am I?

 

*CREAK*

 

I swiftly looked toward the source of the noise. Darn it, I felt even dizzier after my actions. I instinctively touched my forehead once more.

 

A woman walked in, holding a food tray and dressed as a maid. Wait, when did I get a maid? I didn't get reincarnated or anything, right?

 

"Good morning, madam," the maid greeted me, even giving a slight bow.

 

"G-good morning," I replied, stumbling over my words.

 

She smiled, walked over to the table, and set down the tray. After bowing once more, she turned to leave the room. I immediately stopped her from asking a question.

 

"Wait!" I called out, standing my ground.

 

She turned to face me, asking, "What can I do for you, madam? Would you like something to eat or need assistance?"

 

I shook my head quickly. "No! Um, do you know where I am?" I asked, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

 

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Excuse me?"

 

"I don't know how I got here. Can you tell me who owns this house?" I asked.

 

Before the helper could reply, the door suddenly swung open, revealing a handsome man. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscular arms and abs through his well-fitted shirt.

 

I averted my gaze immediately, feeling guilty for staring at his body.

 

"You may leave now."

 

I shifted my gaze back to the man upon hearing his voice. It was undeniably deep and masculine! His voice had such depth that any woman would be captivated, even without seeing his face. Not only was he handsome, but he also had a great physique and that alluring voice.

 

I turned to him because I thought he was talking to me. However, I soon realized he was speaking to his helper.

 

After the helper departed, it was just the two of us left in the room. He approached the table where the food lay, took a seat, and then turned his gaze toward me.

 

"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked.

 

It caught me off guard. I quickly moved closer and took a seat across from him. As our eyes locked, I immediately looked down and played with my fingers.

 

I couldn't maintain his piercing gaze. His intense stare seemed like it could penetrate right through me. I wasn't certain if that's how he typically looked at people or if it was just directed at me.

 

Even at this moment, I could still feel his eyes on me, making me feel uneasy.

 

"Can you eat while fiddling with your fingers? Eat," he said.

 

Raising my head, I met his eyes. "What about you? Aren't you going to eat?"

 

"I'm full," he responded, shifting his attention back to his cellphone.

 

I chose not to reply; instead, I started eating in silence. The atmosphere grew increasingly awkward with each bite I took, especially with him watching intently. It puzzled me: wasn't he able to sense my discomfort?

 

Wait, could he possibly be the owner of this house?

 

After a moment, I gathered the courage to ask, "Excuse me, sir. Are you the owner of this house? How did I get here?"

 

"You don't remember?" he asked, tilting his head. "I bought you."

 

*Cough*

 

I quickly reached for the water and took a sip to compose myself. What was he saying—that he bought me? Do I look like a doll or some object? Am I merely an item for him?

 

I mustered a feeble laugh. "That's a funny joke you've got there. You have quite the sense of humor."

 

He raised his right eyebrow. "This isn't a joke. I acquired you at the auction I attended last evening. You were there, listed as one of the items."

 

It felt as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown at me. There was no hint of jest on his face. His eyes were serious, gauging whether I believed him or not.

 

I stood up, saying, "I need to go home. I apologize for any inconvenience."

 

"Sit," he commanded, his voice echoing with authority.

 

It felt like he was treating me like a dog. Instead of following his order, I remained rooted to the spot, refusing to yield.

 

"I must get home. My father needs me there," I explained urgently. As I attempted to move past him, he swiftly grabbed my hand with an unexpected force, compelling me to halt and turn towards him.

 

His gaze met mine, and his eyes seemed to chill even further. "Wouldn't the $20 million I spent to buy you go to waste if I let you go?"

 

Desperate to break free, I attempted to retrieve my hand from his grasp. However, his hold only tightened, sending a sharp jolt of pain coursing through my veins.

 

"I don't understand what you're implying. Release my hand this instant!" I protested, struggling against his hold.

 

Rising to his feet, he squarely faced me, locking eyes once more. "Don't you recall who I am?"

 

I took a brief moment to reflect, attempting to jog my memory about where I might have encountered him. After a pause, I responded thoughtfully, "I'm sorry, but I truly don't recognize you. This is the first time we've met."

 

He tilted his head slightly, a hint of disbelief evident in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

 

"It's possible you've mistaken me for someone else," I ventured to suggest.

 

"You don't recall aiding me? Treating a severe wound I had? That rainy day, you discovered me unconscious in a shop along your street and graciously took me into your home."

 

I narrowed my eyes, trying hard to recall what he was saying, until...

*Flashback*

"I'll just step out here," I told the taxi driver.

 

I settled the fare before stepping out of the taxi. I sighed as I remembered Papa's condition. I was there a few minutes ago, and I was torn about whether I should have returned home. A part of me wanted to stay longer to keep watch over him. However, Auntie, Papa's sister, insisted on taking over so I could get some rest.

 

The rain pours heavily, matching my feelings. It feels as though the rain understands my emotions.

 

I've taken on multiple jobs, all to afford Papa's medicine and our daily meals. But today, I lost my job after standing up to a disrespectful customer. I still have debts to pay, so how will I survive now without a job?

 

"If it weren't for that pervert, I'd probably still have a job!" I yelled, even though no one was around to hear.

 

It was late, and the streets were quiet, with most stores already closed.

 

As I walked on, my attention was caught by a man lying in front of Aunt Cherry's store. My concern grew when I noticed that the rain mixed with blood on the ground.

 

I looked intently and found out that the blood was coming from his side. I quickly approached him, afraid he might be seriously hurt. In my haste, I dropped my umbrella. I checked for a pulse, and when I found one, I helped him to his feet and guided him home.

 

Who he was didn't matter; what mattered was helping him before it was too late.

 

[Tomorrow Morning]

 

After I tended to his wound once more, he chose to leave. I mentioned he could stay until he healed, but he insisted on going home. Perhaps he wasn't at ease in this small place, so I simply let him go.

 

As he approached the door, he turned to me again. "What's your name again?"

 

"Peony, sir. Peony Sinclair," I answered.

 

"Thank you for treating me, Peony. I won't forget this, and I promise to repay you someday. I'm Mattia Luigi D'Amato," he introduced himself, offering his hand.

 

I smiled and shook his hand. "Take care, sir."

 

"Thanks, and I apologize for my rudeness earlier. I'll take my leave now," he remarked before releasing my hand.

 

I just nodded, standing by the door, watching as he walked away.

 

*End of Flashback*

 

"You are... that man," I uttered, a mix of shock and realization coloring my voice.

 

He nodded. "Now calm down and sit. You should finish your breakfast," he said, releasing my hand.

 

I did as he said. I sat back and ate. After a moment, something clicked. "Has the wound from the stabbing healed?" I asked, locking eyes with him.

 

"How did you know I was stabbed? I never mentioned it to you," he responded, curious.

 

"Just a hunch," I replied nonchalantly.

 

"Really? Well, it's healed now, and I owe that to you," he replied.

 

A fleeting smile crossed my lips. "I'm relieved to hear that."

 

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Listen, what I told you earlier is the truth. I bought you, and now I own you. Don't you recall how you ended up being auctioned off?"

 

I swallowed hard as a flood of memories rushed back. "I think I remember now." I took a deep breath before continuing, "I reached out to someone I know for help because I needed money. She provided me with an address and advised me to dress attractively. Even though I didn't understand what she meant, I still followed her instructions."

 

"And then?" he prompted, urging me to continue.