COPYRIGHT © 2017 Miu
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the Author.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All pictures and multimedia used are not the author’s work and doesn’t claim any legal rights.
MATURE CONTENT and VULGAR words not suited for young readers below eighteen (18) years old.
It was six in the morning, and I was still contemplating on what to wear. I tried different sets of clothes, but none matched the look I wanted to achieve.
I wanted to be presentable, but not let the other party know that I was preparing to dress for him.
No! No! No! Not right! Why do I have to care what he thinks? I just have to dress like I’m meeting any other person.
When I grabbed for a shirt, I lamented on how unattractive it was. I grabbed a dress showing my curves and was pleased. But I remember that it was just a simple signing over breakfast.
I screamed and pulled my hairs in frustration.
This is not the time to be bipolar! Just pick a damn dress already!
I closed my eyes and calmed myself.
“You look good in anything you wear . . .”
A distant voice echoed in my head, and I want to burn everything on sight. Thanks to that disgusting memory, my brain took over, and I grabbed a simple lime-colored peasant top paired with ivory-colored skinny trousers and tan-colored wedge shoes. I put on multiple strands bracelets and dangled earrings and puffed myself with light make-up.
Satisfied, I reached for my Dolce and Gabbana patterned box bag and was about to turn the handle of my bedroom door when the doorbell rang.
I went into the foyer and checked the time.
Isn’t he a little early?
I was about to press the intercom when I discarded the idea and peeped on the spyhole instead.
Standing outside was Cain, wearing a simple fitted iron colored V-neck ¾ sleeve sweater, highlighting his collarbone, broad chest and thin waist. Coupled with cloud-colored trousers and a pair of coin colored oxford shoes. He only had one piece of jewelry, a Jaeger LeCoultre watch.
The man was not just sexy, he was a walking aphrodisiac!
I want to open the door and rip off his clothes and ra––!
! ! !
I panicked at my line of thoughts and made a sprint in my living area. It was only when the doorbell rang again that I took a deep breath and composed myself. After making sure that I wouldn’t harass him, I opened the door.
“Er . . . H-hello, you’re early.” I almost grabbed my bag and slammed it on my head.
With a serious face, Cain said without batting an eyelid, “I can’t wait to see you, so I came early.”
“. . .”
Should I slam the door and pretend this never happened?
Cain seemed to have read my thoughts as he stepped forward. Sensing danger, I unknowingly trotted back. He stopped in line with the door frame and extended his hand, holding a large white rose.
“For you,” he said.
The gentleness in his voice against his emotionless face made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
“. . .” Staring at the rose in his hand, I didn’t accept it. My mouth opened, and closed didn’t know what to say. First of all, I didn’t know how to address him, so I wait for him to say something instead.
“. . . Don’t you like it?”
Cain’s voice was soft and tender. Hearing it made my heart twitched, and without thinking, I blurted out.
“N-no! No! I mean, yes! Yes! Wait . . . ! What?”
Cain laughed a little. “The flower, don’t you like it?”
“I . . .”
I look at the rose, then slid my eyes to his handsome ice-cold face. The frostiness in his aquamarine eyes was hypnotizing me.
“. . . love it,” I whispered.
Cain’s lips curved upward. His warm smile melted his icy countenance.
“Then, I’ll give you a flower every day.”
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