She has a crush on him

Chapter - 15

"You will be staying on this floor," Iris spoke as they got off the stairs.

They passed through a few rooms, before stopping in front of one as she pushed open the door, "You will be staying in this room."

Lucius stepped inside cautiously, taking in the spacious room adorned in deep shades of brown and gold. A large bed, neatly made with silk sheets, dominated the center. 

The walls had intricate carvings, and the furniture looked well-organized. A tall window on the far end of the room allowed a soft breeze to enter, carrying the scent of flowers from the garden below.

"I expect you to keep this place tidy," Iris said, crossing her arms lightly. "I am not strict about rules, but I like things in order."

Lucius turned to look at her. "Don't worry about that. I don't remember much, I sure don't like things messy." 

"I hope so," Iris rolled her eyes, turning away from Lucius, ready to leave, "It sure was a whole lot of mess to clean at the hospital."

"Woman… Leave it already," Lucius threw his hand away, irked.

"As long as you don't lay your fingers on anyone here," Iris spoke with a cheeky smirk.

"Even I have standards," Lucius shrugged, "But that aside, where is your room?"

Iris pointed to the door a couple of rooms away to Lucius's and on the other side of the hallway, "Right there. If you need anything, don't come knocking on my door."

"Sure… Sure… Young Miss," Lucius dramatically bowed down in front of Iris, "But I prefer doing things myself. So you won't have to worry about me. You won't even feel that I am here."

"I am sure you will," Iris smiled, giving him one last glance before stepping back, "Get some rest. I have things to do."

And with that, Iris left the room, closing the door behind her.

Lucius remained standing in the center of the room for a moment before he started moving around, examining everything carefully. 

He ran his fingers over the carved wooden desk, opened a drawer only to find it empty, and then turned his attention to the wardrobe. 

Inside, neatly arranged clothes hung in the wardrobe as if someone had prepared them just for him, "Well, the girl is quite efficient."

He turned toward the bookshelf. The Rows of old, leather-bound books lined the shelves. He pulled one out, flipping through its yellowed pages. 

The words were unfamiliar, written in some old language, looking all gibberish that he couldn't understand.

"Great. As if this place wasn't weird enough," he scoffed, shaking his head before placing the book back in its place.

With a sigh, he moved to the bed and sat down, running a hand through his head and trying to process the situation.

"So let's get things sorted," Lucius looked at the ceiling and whispered to himself.

"I wake up in the hospital…"

"A girl is taking care of me…"

"I don't know her…"

"In fact I don't know myself…"

"She tells me I got into an accident, lost a lot of blood and ended up losing my memories…"

"My name is Lucius and her name is Iris…"

"How and Why I got into an accident, even she does not know…"

"She is taking care of me, because I work for her…"

"She even brought me to her home to help me recover…"

"No boss is generous enough to do it… Not a chance. At least not out of the kindness of their heart…"

"Unless…"

"Unless…"

"Oh My God… that girl has a crush on me…" 

As the realization hit him, with his eyes wide open, his gaze turned towards the door. Did he just hit a jackpot? Beauty, loaded with enough money to make him wonder if she could buy a small country or just a really fancy coffee.

"Naah… I am just too good for her and the poor girl knows that."

"So is she telling the truth?" Lucius couldn't help but wonder. This time seriously.

"Is it right to trust her?" He muttered to himself under his breath, "This is starting to get on my nerves."

"Nothing looks familiar..." He looked around the room. But, he had no other choice. If he wanted answers and safety, he had to stay, "Just like this name... Lucius?"

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. And when he looked, it was Iris again standing there. 

"I forgot to mention," Iris said, leaning against the doorway. "If you need any help or feel uneasy, just call one of the servants. And try to get some rest... You look exhausted. I will see you later."

Lucius just nodded, "Okay."

Iris lingered for a moment, her gaze assessing him. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and left. 

"I indeed need to rest," Letting out a deep breath, Lucius lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His eyelids grew heavy, and soon, sleep claimed him, pulling him into a world of unknown dreams.

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"I want him out of here. This house in shelter for homeless hobos,"

"Agghhh…" with his eyes closed and frown on his face, Lucius woke up to the sound of raised voices, his head still heavy from sleep. "Who the hell is that? Can't an injured man have a moment of piece?" 

He looked around, and the room was dimly lit by the dying sun rays of the evening dusk.

As he tried to wake up, the dull ache in his body reminded him of his injuries, making him very slow and cautious. He pushed himself up, wincing, and turned his head toward the commotion outside his room. 

Carefully, he slid his feet to the floor, inhaling sharply as pain flared through his side. Ignoring it, he stood up, his steps careful and deliberate as he made his way toward the noise. 

As he reached the doorway, he felt a pain in the side of his chest. But he continued moving towards the outside. 

When he reached the railing, he looked down and saw Iris standing in the living room, facing a middle-aged woman with sharp, disdainful eyes. Beside her, a man stood with his hands in his pant pocket, his expression mirroring hers… Cold and unimpressed.

"Take him and throw him out of this house!" the woman snapped, her voice sharp with irritation. "This is not our problem! If he had an accident, why bring him here?"

Lucius stood at the edge of the scene, watching with quiet amusement, 'So I am the cause of this commotion… That's nice,' He smiled hearing the lady. 

Iris, arms folded, let out a short, mocking laugh. Her eyes gleamed with contempt as she tilted her head slightly, looking at the woman like she was nothing more than an annoyance.

"Calm down, old lady," Iris drawled, her voice dripping with arrogance, "Your voice is already hard to bear. Yelling doesn't make it any easier on any of us."

"And before you run your mouth any further, let me remind you… This is my house as well. I can do whatever the hell I want here. So if I decide to bring in a dying dog, a stranger, or even my gigolo, you will just have to shut up and deal with it." 

"You…" The woman sucked in a sharp breath, her nostrils flaring as she turned to glare at Iris. "Look at you! Manners don't exist in your dictionary, do they? Who taught you to talk back to your elders?" She sneered.

Iris barely blinked, "At least act like one. I am just stating the truth," she replied smoothly, her tone unfazed, "Can't handle them? Leave."

The man beside the woman scoffed, shaking his head. "Looks like my mother-in-law spoiled you a bit too much. Just look at yourself. Someone needs to teach you some manners."

"And I am assuming you want to teach them to me in private?" Iris let out a dry chuckle, her arms still crossed, her posture relaxed but commanding, "But I am not sure your wife would like that." Iris said looking at the old lady with the corner of her eyes with a smirk. 

"And I am assuming you want to be the one to teach me?" Iris let out a soft chuckle, her arms still crossed, her posture relaxed, and her lips curled up in a mischievous smirk, "In private, perhaps?" She tilted her head slightly, eyes glinting with innocence, "Though, I'm not sure your wife would be too happy about that."

While speaking, she flicked her gaze to the old lady standing beside him, a smirk playing at her lips.

The air in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as the wife looked at her husband with sharp, narrowed eyes. 

The man stiffened, his confidence wavering as he quickly shook his head. "Oh, come on, darling. She's twisting my words. That's not what I…"

"Shut up," she snapped, cutting him off with a glare that could slice through steel, "I will deal with you later."

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[Author's Note: Don't forget to support the story with power stones. It will be of much help]