ZARYA ROGOV
When I got back to the room, I took a deep breath of relief. My body was still trembling, my heart was still thumping at an abnormal pace. I recalled his words, and they haunted me like a never-ending curse.
I looked at the ring on my still slightly trembling hand. This ring was a seal of curse on me. "Tsk," I took it off and threw it away again, making it land in the corner.
I turned to use the restroom, but then my eyes landed on the cellphone resting on the bedside table.
A cell phone? Where did this come from?
I immediately checked it. The cellphone was brand new, and the only contact in it was Sergei's. Oh, so this was given to me so he could call me whenever he wanted.
I didn't recall any number except my own. Putting the phone back down, I used the restroom, since I didn't have clothes with me anymore. I simply took a shower, wore those dirty clothes again, and got into bed.
I tried to sleep, but I couldn't.
I wondered if Caesar would come and save me.
Though I doubted it.
Rogov's were weak against Morozov's, and my father wouldn't risk his heir for someone as worthless as me in his eyes.
After a good while, my eyes began to shut down. I was falling asleep, and just as I had gone into a deep slump, the phone began to ring. I jolted awake, looking around in delirium until my eyes landed on the phone.
I grabbed the phone, and it almost slipped out of my hands when I found Sergei's name on it.
Why was he calling me at 1:23 AM?
I slowly sat up and stared at the screen, contemplating whether I should pick it up or not, but I knew if I didn't pick up, the monster wouldn't let it slide.
I attended the call and brought the phone next to my ear. My hands started to tremble again, my heart beat once again, running at an abnormal pace.
"Bring me black coffee. The room is on the second floor, left corner." He paused for a few seconds. "You've got 10 minutes." His deep voice made goosebumps rise on my skin. To hear it from such closeness had my gut twisting in a weird way. Before I could say something, he hung up.
Huh?
I stared at the screen with a frown.
He wanted black coffee at this time?
What about the servant who used to do it for him before? Oh yeah, I was the servant now, his servant. I hated the idea of serving him. I hated the idea of even obeying him, but I knew denying him would be like digging my own grave, so I got up from bed and almost tripped on my slippers that were thankfully given to me by the butler before I left the room.
The mansion wasn't as sparkly as always; Dull lights were slightly illuminating the area, making it look scarier. Not knowing where I was going, I tried to find the kitchen, but when I spotted a servant, a little relief washed over my expression.
I raised my hand to stop her, but as soon as she saw me, she flinched and scurried away as if she had seen a ghost.
I slowly lowered my hand, confusion written on my face as I stared at the corner she had just taken.
What was that?
Oh, how lonely and pathetic. I lowered my hand and began searching for the kitchen again until I finally found it. As I opened the lights, they almost blinded me.
As soon as my eyes adjusted to the lightning, I began looking for a mug and found it. But what about the ingredients? Gosh. By now, I bet ten minutes had passed. As I looked through the cabinets and drawers, I began to find the ingredients one by one and immediately made his black coffee.
As black and bitter as his soul.
I grabbed the mug and took the stairs to the second floor, left corner. My thumping heart was already running wild when I knocked on the door, and his deep voice came like a command. "Enter," as I opened the door and stepped inside, his scent invaded my senses.
Dark, dangerous, alluring.
My eyes moved onto him.
He sat in his master chair in the corner. His hair was wet and slicked back. The worst part was that he was only in his bathrobe with a book in his hand.
It's hard to believe someone like him reads, but one doesn't learn all his types of games through experiences.
He didn't look up.
I moved closer to him with the coffee mug.
"Y-Your coffee." he slowly looked up from his book, stared at the coffee mug that was slightly shaking in my hand before looking up at my face. I immediately looked away when I met his gaze.
"You're 20 minutes late." He didn't take the coffee mug from me.
"I-I didn't know where the kit-kitchen was and then all the ingredients." I defended myself.
Without a word, he leaned forward and took the cup from me. Our fingers grazed against each other, sending a shiver down my spine.
I thought he would drink it, but suddenly he turned the cup upside down. I jumped when all the hot coffee splashed onto the gray tiles. Some of it splashing on my foot, and more of it splashing on his.
I stared at the scene, shocked.
I looked at him and he was staring at me blankly, his eyes tracing my expressions.
"Y-You..." I couldn't find the proper words to speak.
"W-Why?"
"When I say ten minutes, it means ten minutes." I continued to gawk at him. He did this on purpose. He was already on a mission to make my life hell. First, he woke me up in the middle of the night when I was in deep sleep, ordered me to make him coffee in 10 minutes when I didn't even know where the kitchen was, and now this.
This man was truly unhinged.
Tears pricked the back of my eyes as the burn began to make my feet ache. My throat constricted.
"I don't give second chances, but since you're new...go make me another cup, you have 8 minutes." His voice was low, too calm, too authoritative.
"I-"
"1...2...3..." He began counting the seconds, and I stared at him, shocked.
I slowly stepped back and turned, striding out of the room. He was humiliating me, clearly enjoying his power.
That prideful monster.
He didn't even care if he hurt himself.
I strode into the kitchen and tried to make the coffee again, but this time, I almost burned my hand. Tears blurred my sight as I tried to uphold myself.
The fact that this was just the beginning of my life with him was haunting me.
When I knocked on the door again, at that moment, I knew I was late again. I wanted to turn around and run back inside my room, lock myself away from him.
I slowly entered the room on his order and walked up to him.
"2 minutes late," his voice was an alarm for me, those words like arrows.
"Uh...it's im-impossible to make it t-that fast."
"I suppose," he leaned forward, taking the cup from me again, this time his hand looming a little longer over mine. I prayed he wouldn't turn it upside down this time, and gladly, he didn't.
He took a sip of that hot coffee, and I wished he would burn that tongue of his, but his features remained nonchalant. Oh yeah, what was I expecting?
"What are you standing there for?" he asked, looking up at me.
"H-huh?"
"Come on, clean this mess." He gestured at the spilled coffee near his feet. A muscle in my jaw moved. What did he think he was doing? I was not his maid. The fact that I was running in the mansion just a few seconds ago to make him coffee in 8 minutes was enough of a servant behavior, but this was too much.
I didn't move, and his gaze didn't waver from me; it only intensified when I refused to obey him.
"Right now..."
His voice was threateningly low, his gaze was so intense that I was forced to move. This man was scarier than my father. God, I hate these species. All power-hungry monsters.
I slowly looked around his master-size bedroom to look for something to clean it with. Spotting the tissues on the bedside table, I slowly moved towards them and grabbed the box.
But when it came to kneeling and cleaning it, my face turned red in embarrassment. This was pure humiliation. I wouldn't do it. I bit my lower lip harshly, contemplating what I should do.
I would not clean.
"Y-You did it, you clean i-it."