Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Ryan
The puzzle I'd custom-ordered for Rose and the toy for her little cat Luna had finally arrived. I headed downstairs to grab them. As I rounded the corner of the stairs, I caught the butler's voice, Andrew's, drifting from the foyer.
"Mr. Sterling, Miss Romanova is waiting for you in the sunroom."
I followed the sound, stepping down the last few stairs, and spotted a man handing his coat to a maid nearby. He was nothing like Ronan—clean-cut, mild-mannered. Andrew noticed me and gave a slight nod before introducing us. "This is Mr. Nicholas Sterling, a friend of Miss Romanova's."
Nicholas glanced my way, his eyes lingering on my face for a beat, then he nodded politely. Before I could introduce myself, the sharp click of heels echoed in.
Victoria strode over, slipping her arm through his like it was the most natural thing, their bodies close. "Nick, you're finally here." She tilted her face up with a smile, then turned to me, her tone cool. "Ryan, Rose is still upstairs waiting for you."
I didn't argue, just turned and headed for the door. When I came back with the packages, they were still there, chatting and laughing. I tried slipping upstairs quietly, but Nicholas looked up, his gaze carrying some unexplained chill. I yanked my eyes away and hurried up the steps.
The changes Luna brought were way bigger than I'd imagined.
Rose got more active—feeding her, scooping litter, all that basic stuff, even when Ronan and I tried to stop her, she'd stubbornly do it anyway.
She'd even sneak bits of fish for Luna; God, I nearly lost it laughing when I found them in her pocket.
Every night, she'd check that Luna was curled by her pillow before closing her eyes.
As Rose improved, I ramped up the interactions, like reading to her. The afternoon sun felt extra soft. I perched on her windowsill, reading The Little Prince aloud in a gentle voice. Warm light slanted in, hitting the pages with a soft, golden glow.
"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand that yours is unique in all the world..."
"You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."
I turned the page softly, ready for the next part, when a tiny, halting voice came from beside me. "Rose... res-responsible... u-unique..."
The book nearly slipped from my hands. Joy hit me like a wave—this was Rose speaking for the first time! My fingers tightened on the pages, and I kept my cool, responding softly. "Yeah, you're the unique rose."
Rose went quiet, petting Luna, burying her face in the fur. Her thin body shook. She was crying. I tossed the book and pulled her into a hug.
When I walked into the dining room, Ronan was already at the head of the table, fresh from his business trip. Declan stood beside him, murmuring updates, and Ronan nodded occasionally. He softened at the sight of Rose, but when he spotted her red-rimmed eyes, he cut Declan off.
"What happened?"
I guided Rose to her seat and handed her a spoon. She took it, scooped up some soup, and sipped slowly.
"Rose spoke today." The table went silent, just the faint sounds of her sipping. Ronan's hand froze mid-air—confusion, then shock, then pure joy.
"What... what did she say?" His voice had a faint tremble.
I repeated the words. The joy faded from his face, replaced by guilt and sadness I'd never seen before. It vanished quickly, though, and he masked it. His eyes shifted to Rose, who was still lazily spooning soup.
"Declan." His gaze stayed on me. "Get Ryan a bonus ready."
"Understood, sir."
"Rose probably just got carried away." Victoria's fork clanged hard against her plate. "Kids mimic people all the time. It's not real progress."
Word of Rose speaking spread through the manor fast. People's attitudes toward me shifted—from polite distance to genuine respect and warmth.
But Victoria? She started picking fights.
During Rose's sand tray therapy, she'd burst in unannounced, grabbing figurines and messing with them. Or she'd interrupt my reading sessions.
Every time, Rose would curl up. If not for Luna, it'd be worse. After endless bullshit, I'd had enough. No more backing down.
I went to Victoria's room and knocked. The door cracked open; she held a glass of red wine, looking smug.
"Ryan, what's this about so late?"
"Rose is tucked in. Cat's by the pillow. No nightmares." I swallowed my irritation. "Next time, say what you want all at once."
"Already losing your cool?"
"Victoria, I think you want Rose better, too, right?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You threatening me?"
"Not a threat." I met her stare. "Everyone sees she's improving. Just don't interrupt therapy anymore, or wake me up at night for no reason. Don't mess with her sleep."
"Who are you to order me?" Her voice sharpened. "You think you can change this family? You know what Valerius means? You don't belong here—if not for you—"
"Ladies." Declan rushed in. "It's 3:15 a.m. Ronan said no one interferes with Ryan's work on Rose. Miss Romanova, watch yourself."
Victoria's glass hovered. She glanced at Declan, then me, her face twisting ugly before she forced a smile.
"Of course. All for Rose." She slammed the glass on a side table and shut the door.
Declan turned to me. "It's late. Get some rest."
Back in my room, I shut the door and took deep breaths to kill the anger. I was here for Rose. Yeah, my thoughts on Ronan weren't pure, but compared to her, they meant shit. That damn man—always stirring trouble!
That night, Rose didn't crash until almost ten. She got obsessed with the puzzle, refused to sleep; I coaxed her for forty minutes. I slipped out quietly, then collapsed on my bed like my bones were gone.
Five days straight, spinning like a top. I buried my face in my hands, eyes flashing with spots.
I'd had it. I needed somewhere quiet—no knocks, no calls, no one finding me.
I paced, thinking about time off, dragging Lulu to a hot spring.
.. Wait! Hot springs! I remembered Declan pointing out a room at the end of the second floor on my first day—a private hot spring bath.
Ronan used it most, but he never said no one else could.
My pulse quickened. Ronan was away. It should be empty.
I grabbed clothes and snuck out, reaching the door. Unlocked. I slipped in.
The bathroom was huge, black marble tub sunk into the floor, big enough for two or three. I twisted the hot water valve; steam rose, fogging the mirror.
I slid in. Water climbed over my knees, thighs, waist, chest. I leaned back against the wall, head on the edge, mist carrying that faint, heated mineral scent like rain on stones.
The heat worked its magic. My shoulders loosened. I stretched my legs, toes breaking the surface, spreading in the steam. Left foot circled, right followed, then both. Ripples spread from the center, hitting the walls, bouncing back, crossing new ones.
I dunked half my face, just nose up, and blew a breath. Bubbles surged from my lips, gurgling up and popping. I blew harder—more bubbles, louder.
I submerged fully. The world went silent. Water hummed in my ears; manor sounds, wind outside—all blocked. Just my heartbeat, dull and steady through bones and fluid. I opened my eyes underwater, watching my hands open and close, body gliding a bit.
I surfaced, gasping, water splashing the edge. I wiped my face, ready for another dip, when the door stirred.
I froze. Who? Andrew? Declan? Or... Ronan? I huddled in the corner. Black tiles made my hair stand out. Damn, why didn't I wear a swim cap?
The door was pushed open, and a figure stepped out from the thick mist. I couldn't make out who it was at first, but I could tell it was a man.
He didn't seem to have noticed me yet, so I shrank back even further into the water.
Just then, the wall lamp cast its light across his face, and I saw him clearly.
Ronan. Fuck. This was even worse.
Why was he back so early? Didn't he say he'd be gone for a week?
Before I could pull myself out of my spiraling panic, he began undressing.
He undid his shirt one button at a time.
One. Two. His Adam's apple, sculpted pecs, defined abs, and finally, those strong arms came into view.
I was submerged in hot water, yet I couldn't tell if the burning heat was coming from inside me or the bath.
My throat went dry, and a rush of heat surged up my nose.
Even though this wasn't the first time I'd seen his body, that Greek-statue perfection still made me carefully wipe under my nose—good, no nosebleed.
Then he took off his pants.
The massive length between his legs made the heat inside me surge even harder. My mind involuntarily flashed back to that night—his size, his raw power. The rush of heat shifted downward, straight to my lower belly.
Ryan, you're seriously hopeless. Hiding in the man's own bathtub and thirsting over him like this.
He lifted his leg and stepped into the pool. Then his entire body suddenly froze. He started walking straight toward me.
Shit.
"Let me see... which little mouse is hiding here?"
One hand grabbed my hair and yanked me up, while the other cupped my jaw. I gasped for air, chest heaving. The moment he recognized me, the tension in his body melted away. The corner of his mouth even curved into a smile, and his grip loosened.
"How long have you been here?"
My brain was still sluggish. "N-not... not long."
I tried to turn away, but he caught me by the waist and pulled me back. The water pushed me straight into his body, our bare skin pressing flush against each other.
"What are you hiding for?" His voice was low and amused. "It's not like I haven't seen it before."
His hand slid over my waist, slowly moving upward until he cupped my chest, giving it a gentle squeeze. A soft moan escaped me as I melted into his arms. The hard, iron-like length pressed against my inner thigh.
"Ronan... don't..."