Chapter 5: Horrified

Eden's POV

I gasp, my eyes widening in absolute shock. “Strip? What do you mean?”

He chuckles, his voice low and husky as ever. “Oh, Eden. You walked in on me naked. Now it's my turn to see you naked. Fair's fair, don't you think?”

I'm horrified, my head spinning with thoughts of protest and outrage. But my body seems to have a mind of its own and I feel a treacherous thrill of excitement at the thought of being naked in front of him.

What on earth is wrong with me?

“Sir Oliver, please,” I say in a hush, taking a step back from him.

“Please what?” He questions me, his eyes searching my face.

“Don't make me do this.”

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "Oh, Eden. I'm not making you do anything. I'm just asking you to play a little game with me.”

“But I'm not interested in playing any game with you,” I protest, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

How can he ask me to do such a thing? What does he think of me? Do I look like some cheap call girl or a tawdry harlot? I can't believe he thinks I'll just strip for him like some streetwalker in heat. Just because I'm working as a maid in his house doesn't mean I don't have any self-respect.

All of a sudden, I burst out crying and I begin to rant, “Sir Oliver, how...,” I sob, my voice cracking. “How can you ask me to do... something so... so... humiliating? And degrading... and... I really need this job. You have no idea how much it means to me. But I can't... I can't let you use me like this. I'm a person, with feelings and dignity...”

My voice trails off as I break down, more tears pouring down my face uncontrollably. Sir Oliver is taken aback by my outburst and he looks unsure of how to respond. He stares blankly at me for a second and opens his mouth to speak but I beat him to it.

“I'm not kind of... girl. I'm an employee, for crying out loud! I need this job, Sir Oliver. My whole life... is depending on this job. I can't afford to lose it. And even if I could, I wouldn't strip for you or anyone else. I'm not that kind of person.”

“Eden, I...”

I can't seem to stop crying, “You have no right to ask me to do something so... so... humiliating. Please... don't do this. I can't... I just can't... I'll do anything else, I'll work harder than anyone else, I'll..."

“Eden, listen to me. I was just kidding,” Sir Oliver cuts me off, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I didn't mean what I said, okay?”

I pause, sniffle and blink at him. “You didn't?”

He shakes his head. “No, it was just a bad joke. Nothing else.”

“So you don't want to... see me naked?”

He goes silent for a while and then gives me an answer, “Well...no.”

“Oh... Okay,” I say in a soft voice, wiping my tears. “So... Can I go now?”

"Sure.”

I don't need to be told twice. I run out of his bedroom and slam the door shut behind me, feeling relieved and embarrassed. I hurry to my room, panting and trembling, my cheeks still hot from the humiliation. I can't believe Sir Oliver would even suggest that I strip for him, even if it was just a joke.

And I can't believe I broke down like that in front of him. I'm still trying to process what just happened. Why did I react so strongly to his suggestion? Sure, it was completely out of line and completely inappropriate but I've never cried like that before in front of anyone other than my dad.

Maybe it's because I'm so vulnerable right now, with my terrible life and all. Or maybe there's something about Sir Oliver that brings out my emotions in a way that I can't quite understand.

And why did I feel that thrill of excitement at the thought of being naked in front of him? I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I need to focus on keeping my job and maintaining my dignity.

For the rest of the week, I try my best to ignore Sir Oliver. I don't dare to make eye contact with him and I avoid being in the same room with him whenever possible. I'm afraid that if I do, I might lose control again and say something I'll regret.

He doesn't seem to care much about me anyway. It's safe to say he makes avoiding him very easy for me. He hardly acknowledges my presence since that day. I should be happy, I guess but I don't feel that way. And I wish I knew why.

I tell Nancy everything that happened that day and she can't stop laughing about it. She doesn't seem surprised to hear that Sir Oliver did such a thing. And that's when she starts going on and on about how much of a playboy he is.

“You really shouldn't mind him,” she chuckles. “He can be very unserious sometimes. I'm sure he was just messing with you.”

“Oh, is that so? Is he always like that?”

“No, he's a very complex person. I'd say bipolar. Sometimes, he fools around and most times, he's very cold and grumpy. But you know what he's always in the mood for? A good time with his bimbos.”

My eyes widen and she continues, “I don't think there's ever a night he goes to bed without a woman or two. And I've never seen him bring the same woman home twice.”

I cringe at the revelation. But Nancy doesn't seem to notice. “You know what we call him around here?” She looks around and whispers to me, “The panty ripper.”

“What?”

“That's right! I think he has a kink for ripping panties off his conquests. He's quite notorious for it. It's like his signature move or something. I've lost count of the number of torn panties I've had to throw away.”

She pauses and then continues, “And you know what's crazy? The women he brings home are always so... willing. Like they're under some sort of spell or something. But I can't say I blame them though. That man is absolutely gorgeous! And I hear the sex is mind-blowing too. He knows what he’s doing in the bedroom, I’ll give him that.”

I can feel my cheeks heating up at the frankness of her words. “Um, wow. Well, that’s...that’s interesting.” I stammer, trying to change the subject.

When she sees how tense I am, she adds, “But hey, don't worry about him. He's not that into brunettes and definitely not into maids. So you'll be fine.”

I nod, trying to process all the information Nancy just dumped on me. Sir Oliver, the panty ripper? It's hard to believe that a person could have such a scandalous reputation.

“So, um... when are Mr Christopher and his wife coming back from Singapore?” I ask. I've been eager to see Mr and Mrs Calloway since I started working here.

“Tomorrow, I think I heard Ma'am Pearla say.”

“I...”

My sentence is cut short by the same husky voice that makes me tremble. “Eden.”

My heart skips a beat. I turn around to see Sir Oliver standing in front of me. And... he's not alone.