Chapter 3: unexpected

You're late," an elderly woman at the table remarked as Kael joined them.

Esme, upon looking up, paused with her spoon mid-air, her jaw dropping—along with the spoon.

"Oh, come on! You can't even hold a spoon properly?" Charlotte said in annoyance.

Charlotte, the only daughter of the White family, was a pretty red-haired girl—spoiled and arrogant.

"I'm sorry," Esme mumbled, picking up her spoon and placing it on the tray.

"Tch," Charlotte scoffed before returning to her food.

"Stripper?" Kael called out in a mockingly shocked tone.

Esme shot him a warning look—the 'what do you think you're doing?' kind—but Kael didn't care.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"You know her?" Lucan inquired, looking at Esme.

"Yes, she's the new str—"

"Yes, yes… haha, I met him at the club earlier," Esme quickly interrupted before Kael could finish.

"Ohh, okay," Lucan said before returning to his food.

No one said anything else. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence.

After dinner, Maria showed Esme to the room she would be staying in.

"Do let me know if you need anything. Goodnight, Miss," Maria said before leaving.

Now alone in the room, Esme exhaled sharply.

"Oh my goodness, what the hell is that man doing here? Urghhh, Essy, what have you gotten yourself into?!" she lamented, wheeling her chair toward the bed.

"I need to get out of here as soon as possible. It's too risky," she muttered.

As her eyes scanned the room, she noticed a neatly hung pair of pajamas in front of the wardrobe.

"Okayyy…," she trailed off, moving toward it.

Morning came, and Esme was still sleeping soundly, occasionally shifting in bed. Slowly, she stirred awake.

"Mmm," she mumbled, blinking groggily.

Her vision adjusted, revealing a line of maids standing at the foot of her bed. She jolted upright.

"Good morning, Miss. Did we startle you? Sorry about that," Maria apologized as the other maids bowed.

Esme stared at them in utter shock, her expression practically screaming "WTF?!"

"It's time to get ready, Miss," Maria informed her.

"Is there a special occasion?" Esme asked.

Maria, ever so serious, scoffed.

"No, Miss, but you must take a bath and have breakfast."

Esme blinked in disbelief.

Later that day, Esme grew tired of staying in her room and decided to explore the house. And oh, was it worth it.

"Just how rich are these people?" she muttered to herself, admiring the luxurious decor.

As she wandered down the hallway, her gaze landed on various expensive-looking paintings and artifacts mounted on the walls.

"Wow," she whispered in awe.

Moving further, she spotted an open room—a wine lounge.

Curious, she stepped inside.

"Oh my goodness, isn't this, like… sooooo expensive?" she gasped, holding a bottle of wine, scanning the label.

"Well, well… if it isn't the ungrateful stripper," a familiar voice sneered from behind.

Startled, Esme yelped, dropping the bottle. It shattered upon impact.

"No, no, no!" she panicked, bending down to pick up the pieces.

"Clumsy too," Kael added dryly. Now fuming, Esme turned to him.

"It's your fault! If you hadn't just walked in like that, I wouldn't have been startled!" she snapped.

"Oh, so it's my fault for walking into my own wine lounge, huh?" Kael interrupted, his smirk only deepening her frustration.

Esme froze.

"You know that bottle was pretty expensive, right?" he added, amusement in his tone.

Esme's heart pounded. She was terrified. Tears welled in her eyes. Kael's smirk faltered.

"Are… are you crying right now?" he asked, caught off guard.

"I don't even know how much it costs," she said between sniffles, "but I know I can't pay you back. You might as well just throw me out of your house."

Her voice cracked as she wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

"Life is already so tough, and now I have to worry about a stupid bottle of wine? I don't want to make things worse… I'm sorry," she whispered, turning to leave.

Kael, however, caught her wrist. "I'm not so petty, you know," he said, expressionless.

His deep voice sent chills down her spine. She sniffled, looking up at him, her dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"You're pretty when you cry," Kael mused, staring into her eyes.

Esme blinked, stunned.

"I won't make you pay for the wine," he continued, "but you have to tell me—what are you doing here? Did Lucan hire you for the night?"

Esme frowned.

"Excuse me? Of course not! I'm not a stripper and definitely not a prostitute,"* she retorted.

"Sir Lucan's car hit me yesterday. This is just his way of apologizing, got it?" She crossed her arms.

"And about yesterday… I'm sorry for leaving without thanking you." She took a deep breath. "So… thank you."

With that, she quickly walked out of the lounge. She wasn't in a wheelchair today—she could walk fine as long as she avoided putting pressure on her toes.

"Jerk," she muttered, slamming the door behind her.

Days passed, and Esme lived comfortably, though she made every effort to avoid Kael. She even stopped eating at the dining table—not that the family was particularly welcoming. They ignored her existence, so she chose to stay in her space.

Everything was fine until one evening.

"Sir Lucan asked me to inform you that he will be leaving for Country H today. He'll be back in a week. Whatever you need, I am here to help you," Maria informed Esme.

"W-What? But won't they just kick me out now that he's gone?" Esme asked, suddenly uneasy.

"No one will do such a thing, Miss," Maria assured her with a slight smile.

Meanwhile, in another room, Mr. Marcos White—Lucan and Kael's grandfather—was having a conversation with Kael.

"Kael, son, it's high time you stopped being so stubborn. You need to take over your father's legacy completely. I'm not getting any younger," Grandpa Marcos said firmly.

Kael exhaled in boredom as his grandfather continued.

"Both you and Lucan need to give me grandchildren. Whenever I meet with my friends, they always talk about spending time with their grandkids. Listen to your grandfather, okay? I want to die happy."

Kael rolled his eyes.

"Then let Lucan grant you that," he muttered.

"Oh, shut it! Both of you must get married as soon as possible. I'll have to discuss this with your Nana—maybe she'll talk some sense into you two!" Grandpa Marcos huffed.

Kael sighed in exasperation.

Friday evening 

The family went shopping, tboutique was nothing short of extravagant. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm golden glow over the entire space. The air smelled of expensive perfume, a mixture of floral and musky scents that added to the aura of luxury. Rows of designer clothes, neatly arranged by color and brand, stretched as far as the eye could see. Mannequins dressed in the latest high-fashion outfits were positioned in strategic spots, almost as if they were silently observing the shoppers.

The polished marble floor reflected the soft lighting, making the entire place feel like a dream. Large mirrors lined the walls, giving the illusion of an even bigger space. The boutique staff, all impeccably dressed in black uniforms, moved gracefully, assisting wealthy customers as they browsed.

Esme had never been in a place like this before. Every single item she laid her eyes on screamed expensive—from the delicate silk gowns to the custom-made leather shoes. Even the accessories sparkled with the promise of a heavy price tag.

"Damn, even breathing in here probably costs money," she muttered under her breath.

Unlike the rest of the family, who were busily picking out clothes, Esme wandered aimlessly, admiring the luxurious surroundings. She had no intention of buying anything—Maria had practically dragged her here against her will.

Charlotte, as expected, was in her element. She held up a pink designer dress against her body, turning to Kael.

"Brother Kael, what do you think about this pink dress?" she asked, fluttering her lashes.

Esme, who had been mindlessly scanning the racks, froze. "Oh wow… his name is Kael."

She had never bothered to ask before.

Kael barely glanced at Charlotte. "I don't know," he responded indifferently.

Charlotte huffed in frustration."Oh, come on! For once, act like you care. Tch!" she scoffed before stomping off toward Nana.

Esme chuckled softly to herself but quickly returned to her own exploration. She wasn't interested in dresses, but the boutique had much more to offer—handbags, perfumes, even a jewelry section where diamonds sparkled under bright display lights.

Her fingers trailed over the smooth fabric of a royal blue gown, admiring the way it shimmered. Just as she was about to move on, she suddenly felt a chill crawl down her spine. Something was wrong.

The fine hairs on her arms stood on end. A deep, unsettling feeling twisted in her gut.

She turned her head slightly—just enough to glance toward the entrance of the boutique without making it obvious.

And that's when she saw them. Her heart plummeted.

The men who were after her.

There were three of them, all dressed casually, blending in with the other shoppers. But Esme knew better. The way their eyes scanned the store, the way they whispered to each other… they were looking for her.

"No, no, no… what do I do?" Panic gripped her chest like an iron fist. She needed to get out. Now.

She carefully backed away from the clothing racks, doing her best to keep her movements casual. Don't run. Running will draw attention.

Her breathing became shallow as she carefully maneuvered around the store, avoiding direct eye contact with the men. She needed a plan—an escape route.

That's when she saw Kael leaving the boutique, heading toward his car.

Without thinking, she bolted after him.

Kael had just opened his car door when a blur of movement crashed into him.

"What the—?"

Before he could react, Esme dived into the car, practically landing on top of him.

She peeked outside, her breath ragged, eyes darting in every direction. She was hiding.

Kael, completely caught off guard, stiffened beneath her weight.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice low and edged with irritation.

Esme turned her head, and that's when she realized it.

Their faces were inches apart—so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

Kael's black eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable, yet undeniably intense. His gaze was piercing, drawing her in like a force she couldn't resist.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

She could see every detail of his face up close—the sharp cut of his jawline, the way his Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the way his lips parted just a fraction, as if he was about to say something but thought better of it.

Her fingers, which had instinctively grabbed onto his shirt in her panic, could feel the firm muscles beneath the fabric.

Kael's breath hitched for a fraction of a second—so small it was almost unnoticeable.

Almost.

Esme felt heat rush to her cheeks, but she refused to acknowledge it.

His eyes flickered down, just for a second. It made her heart stutter.

Then, as if reality crashed down on both of them at once, she snapped out of it.

She turned quickly, looking out the window. The men were still inside, still searching.

She clenched her fingers around his shirt, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Please… just drive."

****. ****. ****.