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Chapter 5: HER
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2025-04-22 18:17:33Hey, everyone!
Before we dive into the next chapter, I just wanted to give you a quick heads-up. This part of the story offers a glimpse into Blake’s point of view—not the full picture, just a peek inside his mind.
Enjoy, my darlings!
————
Blake's POV (Later that night).
Samantha White. A name that had never crossed my mind before. Seeing her last night, wandering aimlessly on my way back from the gym, was something I hadn’t expected. She looked lost—like a little girl out of place.
I froze, staring at her for what felt like an eternity, trying to compose myself before finally stepping forward to find out who she was.
The moment I spoke, she turned, startled yet undeniably intrigued.
She studied me, her gaze sweeping from head to toe, taking her time. I let her. I had seen this before—the silent scrutiny, the unspoken curiosity.
And then I saw it. The flicker of desire in her hazel eyes, the kind that betrayed whatever fantasy she was crafting in her mind—just like so many women before her.
Her lips parted slightly, her breath hitching when she finally met my gaze.
My own eyes drifted downward, drawn to her lips—full, soft, undeniably tempting. An ache stirred deep within me, a sudden and reckless urge to frame her face in my hands, to feel the warmth of her mouth beneath mine.
Bloody hell. The thought sent a rush of heat through me.
She was beautiful. Not in the conventional, polished way most women tried to be, but something deeper. Her smoky hazel eyes, flecked with gold, shimmered like embers in the light. The rich brown tones in them matched her deep red hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail with front bangs—a style that had long gone out of fashion, "Yet it suited her perfectly, contrasting beautifully with her light skin."
She was rare. Simple, yet striking.
Her features were delicate but well-defined—straight, pointed nose, high-arched brows, a slender yet poised frame. I had met plenty of beautiful women, but there was something different about her. Something softer. More alluring.
And then she said it.
“I’m your caretaker.”
Rage shot through me in an instant.
“My Caretaker?!” The words left my mouth before I could stop them.
I had sworn off caretakers long ago. This woman—this Ms. White—was no exception. I told her to leave by morning.
For a moment, I saw something flicker in her eyes—hurt. A pang of guilt stirred in me, something I wasn’t used to feeling, especially for someone I had just met. But I ignored it. I turned and walked away, determined to put her out of my mind.
Except I couldn’t.
The moment I shut my bedroom door, she was all I could think about—her voice, her presence, the way she had pleaded with me to let her stay.
I needed to shut this down. Fast.
Calling Nadia minutes later should have helped, but it didn’t. She only made things worse, insisting I let Samantha stay.
“Give her a week, sir,” Nadia had said.
One week. That was all I would allow.
And yet, deep down, I knew—this woman was going to be a problem. A challenge.
This was dangerous.
———
The Next Morning
The moment I stepped out of the shower, a rich, woody scent with a hint of lemon hit my senses. My muscles tensed. Someone had been in my room.
And then I saw her.
Samantha White.
She stood near the bed, mesmerized by the paintings on the walls.
She wasn’t rummaging through things. She wasn’t snooping. She was simply… observing. Absorbing the art before her.
She wore a casual, sleeveless green gown, her hair pulled back into that same ponytail. I was beginning to think that was the only style she knew.
It was oddly… endearing.
For a brief moment, I just watched her, something about the sight unsettling me in a way I couldn’t quite place.
I had to put a st
op to this. Now.
“YOU AGAIN?!”
She startled, turning toward me with wide eyes.
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Torn inbetween millions Chapter 5: HER
Hey, everyone!Before we dive into the next chapter, I just wanted to give you a quick heads-up. This part of the story offers a glimpse into Blake’s point of view—not the full picture, just a peek inside his mind.Enjoy, my darlings!————Blake's POV (Later that night).Samantha White. A name that had never crossed my mind before. Seeing her last night, wandering aimlessly on my way back from the gym, was something I hadn’t expected. She looked lost—like a little girl out of place.I froze, staring at her for what felt like an eternity, trying to compose myself before finally stepping forward to find out who she was.The moment I spoke, she turned, startled yet undeniably intrigued.She studied me, her gaze sweeping from head to toe, taking her time. I let her. I had seen this before—the silent scrutiny, the unspoken curiosity.And then I saw it. The flicker of desire in her hazel eyes, the kind that betrayed whatever fantasy she was crafting in her mind—just like so many women befor
Torn inbetween millions Chapter 4: DOUBTS
Waking up to birdsong wasn't something I was used to—only something I thought happened only in movies. The sound was not the usual city sounds of honking cars and shouting neighbors—actual birds. seconds past, and I just kept laying on the bed, blinking at the ceiling, wondering if I was still dreaming. The heavy curtains kept the room dark, like it was still night.I dragged myself up, arms stretching over my head with a yawn and went for the window. Pulling the curtains apart, I unlatched the glass and pushed it open, As I shoved the glass open, sunlight came flooding in, so sudden and bright I had to blink. The morning air rushed at me - warm and thick with that briny ocean smell that immediately made me think of fish and chips by the pier. And there it was—endless blue water glittering under the sunrise, so close I could almost taste it. My fingers tightened on the windowsill. Places like this only existed in travel magazines, not in my life.I’d slept like the dead for
Torn inbetween millions Chapter 3: HIM
Seeing him from my window had been one thing. But up close? He was on a whole other level.I'd only gotten a quick look before, but now, standing right in front of me, he demanded attention just by existing. Not handsome in the pretty-boy way, but the kind of man who made your breath catch without even trying. The kind who didn't need to speak to own a room—just walk in and suddenly the air itself rearranged around him.Those black almond shaped eyes locked onto me with terrifying focus, the kind that made my skin prickle like he was deciding if he will ruin me. And that face —Christ, it should've been illegal. Smooth brown skin pulled taut over razor-sharp cheekbones, lips that looked soft in sleep but were now pressed into a hard line. His jawline—clean shaven and perfect was so sharp I could've papercut myself on it—literally.His black hair, slicked back perfectly, and mussed like he'd spent the night wrestling with some unsolvable problem, fingers dragging through it over
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Torn inbetween millions Chapter 1: A NEW LIFE BEGINS.
——— The car rumbled along the quiet road, tires screening over ancient cobblestones. I sat straight in the backseat, fingers knotting themselves in my lap until the knuckles turned white. My stomach churned — that acidic, pre-interview feeling, except this interview couldn't be rescheduled. America felt lifetimes away. The passport in my bag might as well have been someone else's. Every unfamiliar street sign, every snatch of Italian from passing pedestrians hammered it home: you don't belong here.The driver's silence wasn't just quiet - it was the thick, loaded kind that makes you wonder what he knows that you don't. As the city lights faded, so did the crowds, until it was just us and these absurdly high walls scrolling past like some aristocratic prison perimeter. What kind of people needed walls like that? My fingers found a hangnail to worry at.Then the car slowed.My lungs seized—don’t hyperventilate, don’t you dare—I warned myself, before my eyes caught on the gates— t
Torn inbetween millions EXCERPT.
HAWTHORNE EMPIRE"Where were you?," his low and hoarse rough voice—barely a whisper shattered the stillness as he asked.My breath pauses as my heart raced. That tone-before now, it had always eluded me. As I ran my gaze around the faintly lit room, my eyes went to the fireplace. Seeing him in his leather armchair, a wine glass in hand whilst fixing his gaze on me. The shadows cast by the flames around the fireplace added to his enigma.“I'm sorry," I murmured, throat tight. "It took longer than I expected, I was occupied. Blake set his glass down and rose from his seat, moving toward me with slow, deliberate steps. Each movement was controlled, precise-like a predator closing in on its prey.“Occupied with what,” his tone was calm, extremely messed up. I felt the weight of his presence before he even reached me. My back stiffened."You know you have a job," he continued, his tone deceptively calm. "A job that requires your full attention-twenty-four hours a day.""I know" I whispe
