CHAPTER SIX: Into Her New World

The rain falls in torrents, a relentless deluge that mirrors the tumult within my heart. I sit huddled on the pavement, my shoulders hunched, my figure a mere silhouette against the backdrop of the dreary evening. The cold drops cascade down, soaking through my clothes, but I scarcely notice, lost in the storm of my own despair. With trembling hands, I clutch at myself, as if trying to hold the shattered pieces of my being together while my tears mingle with the rain on my cheeks. 

I’ve been waiting for almost half an hour now, my thoughts swirling in an uproar of uncertainty and fear. But through the haze of my despair, there’s a flash of silver in the distance. The metallic Pagani draws nearer, and then, with a screech of tires, the car comes to a stop before me. My heart leaps in my chest and relief washes over me when Hugh emerges from the driver's seat.

He doesn't hesitate, doesn't pause to shield himself from the rain. Instead, he rushes towards me with a single-minded determination, his face etched with concern. Without a word, he reaches out a hand to me, his touch warm against my chilled skin.

"Anastasia," he says softly, his voice cutting through the roar of the rain. "Are you alright?"

I shake my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. With a gentle yet firm grip, he helps me to my feet.

"Come on," he says, his tone gentle but insistent. "Let's get you out of this rain."

He leads me towards the passenger side of the car, opening the door with a hurry. I climb inside, grateful for the warmth that envelops me as I settle into the plush leather seat. As Hugh closes the door behind me, I catch his eyes through the rain-streaked window, a silent expression of gratitude passing between us. 

Hugh jogs towards the other side of the car and occupies the driverseat. He then hands me a towel that’s neatly hidden in the compartment. I clutch it tight, grateful for the small comfort it provides. With trembling hands, I begin to dry myself.

Hugh watches me closely, his brow furrowed with concern. "What happened, Anastasia?" 

I hesitate, uncertain of what to tell him. Everything that’s happening is too tangled to put into words and I fear that Hugh would think I’m crazy if I even attempt to say anything. So instead, I offer him a lie.

"The thing is… I lost my job about two weeks ago," I say very weakly since I'm not proud of lying, but have no choice. "And my landowner kicks me out of the house and I don’t think my money is enough to survive a few days."

What a flimsy facade to conceal the depths of my despair. But it’s easier than admitting that I’m unraveling at the seams, that I don’t know where I belong anymore.

Hugh's expression softens, his eyes are filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. What kind of help could I give you exactly?”

While staring at the rain drumming against the windows, I echo his question in my mind: What kind of help do I really need from Hugh? 

Should I ask him to help me unravel the tangled web of inexplicable events that are plaguing me? Or perhaps I should ask him to help me find my parents? And then there’s the option of borrowing money from him. But the thought alone is enough to make my cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

No, borrowing money is out of the options. I can’t bring myself to stoop to such depths, not when there are other options still available to me.

As I think through my options, as if by some stroke of divine inspiration, an idea begins to form in my mind—a simple yet profound solution to my plight.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what’s to come.

"I need a job," I say, my voice steady this time. "And a small space or room to stay in for the time being while waiting for my first paycheck."

Hugh's expression stays soft, his eyes filled with understanding.

"Consider it done," he says with a reassuring smile. "Let’s talk about this at my place."

"Thank you so much, Hugh," I say, my voice choking with emotion. "Thank you for everything."

His wink makes him even more handsome and charming.

As his car rumbles to life and he guides it through the rain-soaked streets. I steal glances out of the window, taking in the glittering skyscrapers that loom overhead and the shimmering lights that dance in the darkness. Sooner than I expect, we arrive at our destination—a penthouse building called The Golden Pavilion, which was mentioned in Bonded several times as Hugh's residence.

The car pulls up in front of the grand porch, flanked by towering pillars adorned with intricate carvings. The marble steps gleam under the soft glow of the lampposts, inviting me into the realm of luxury that lays beyond.

Hugh climbs out of the driver's seat, his movements graceful and confident as he steps onto the pavement. He extends a hand, but before he could even offer it to me, I’ve already opened the car door and begun to climb out on my own. I freeze mid-motion, my eyes widening in realization as the door gently brushes against Hugh's side. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I exclaim, embarrassment coloring my tone.

Hugh chuckles. "No harm done. But next time, let me help you, alright?"

I nod as I step out of the car. Together, we make our way towards the entrance of the building, the sound of our footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. As we reach the threshold, a figure appears seemingly out of thin air, dressed in a crisp uniform and bearing an air of quiet professionalism. Without a word, he approaches Hugh and Hugh hands him his car’s key. The valet attendant then approaches the Pagani, his movements swift and efficient as he prepares to take the car away into the depths of the underground garage.

I step through the ornate double doors of the building. The lobby stretches before me in all its splendor, a combination of marble and gold that whispers of wealth and refinement. Twin chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling, casting a warm glow over the massive space. The walls are adorned with white textured paint and gilded mirrors. Plush velvet armchairs sit in clusters, inviting guests to linger and indulge in idle conversation. But it’s the elevator that truly steals my breath away—a gleaming capsule of polished chrome and smoked glass that promises to whisk me away to the heights of luxury above.

I step inside when Hugh motions for me to, my heart pounding with excitement as the doors slide shut behind me. With a soft hum, the elevator begins its ascent, the city skyline disappearing beneath us as we rise ever higher. Until finally, with a soft ding, we reach Hugh’s penthouse. The doors open to reveal his place. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame panoramic views of the city below, while sleek furnishings adorn in rich fabrics beckoned guests to sink into their embrace.

I step inside, my eyes wide with wonder. The living area is bathed in soft light from a crystal chandelier. A grand piano stands in one corner, its polished surface gleaming in the ambient glow. 

I marvel at the uncanny resemblance between this penthouse and its descriptions I had read in Bonded. As I turn to face Hugh, I catch him watching me.

"We'll talk once you're done drying yourself," he says.

I nod. Hugh motions for the two women in their light-blue uniforms, who are mentioned a few times in Bonded as his Omegas. They lead me through a maze of marble corridors, their steps silent against the plush carpeting that lined the floors.

We arrive at the entrance to the bathroom—a grand double door adorned with intricate carvings that speak of craftsmanship and artistry. The Omegas step aside, gesturing for me to enter. I take a step forward, my eyes scanning the room. A deep soaking tub stands in the center, its gleaming surface inviting me to sink into its depths and forget the cares of the world. Fluffy towels and robes line the walls, their soft textures a promise of comfort and warmth. 

“Call us if you need anything else. We’ll be staying just right here,” Betty says.

“Thank you,” I reply.

Once the door is closed and my privacy is given, I take off my wet clothes and hang them on the clothes racks. As I lower myself into the steaming water, a sigh escapes my lips, my fear and worries temporarily melting away. After a few minutes, with the help of a bath bomb, a gel soap and a shampoo, I finally emerge from the depths of the tub, my skin tingling with warmth and my muscles relaxed.

I wrap myself in a plush towel and step out onto the tiled floor. Then the doors to the bathroom swing open with a soft click. My heart skips a beat as Hugh appears and steps inside, his tall frame filling the doorway. He wears a plush bathrobe, the fabric clinging to his broad shoulders and sculpted chest, leaving little to the imagination.

My cheeks flush crimson as I gaze involuntarily to the mirror. Then my gaze lingers back on the sight before me, the sudden proximity of his presence sending a rush of warmth coursing through my veins.

"Anastasia," Hugh greets me with a charming smile, his voice low and velvety. "I hope I'm not intruding."

I swallow hard as I struggle to find my words.

"N-no, not at all," I stammer, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I-I was just... finishing up."

"I see," he says, his tone playful, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he steps further into the room.