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In last chapter.....

"Lock your door, Ophelia."

And somehow...

That warning didn't make her feel safer at all.

Rain hammered relentlessly against the massive windows of Wood Estate.

The storm had fully arrived now.

Wind howled through the endless trees surrounding the estate, bending branches violently enough to make the old mansion creak softly beneath the pressure of the weather.

The entire place felt alive tonight.

Dark.

Restless.

Watching.

Inside her room, Ophelia paced near the bed with her phone pressed against her ear.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Then voicemail.

Again.

She pulled the phone away with a frustrated groan.

“Seriously, Lily?”

Another ignored call.

Another unanswered message.

Nothing.

She tossed the phone dramatically onto the mattress before dragging a hand through her damp hair.

This was unbelievable.

Last night, Lily had very specifically promised this trip would be simple.

Just girls. Just peace. Just summer freedom hidden away from the world.

No awkwardness. No stress. No terrifyingly attractive fathers walking around looking like temptation wrapped in tattoos.

Yet somehow....

Here she was.

Alone inside a storm trapped mansion with Killian Carter.

And worse....

Ophelia had packed accordingly.

She crouched beside her suitcase and unzipped it fully.

Then immediately regretted every life decision she had made in the last forty eight hours.

Tiny shorts.

Spaghetti strap tops.

Oversized shirts that became almost transparent beneath light.

One black satin slip dress that honestly belonged in a sinful late night fantasy rather than inside her best friend’s family estate.

“Oh my God,” she whispered in horror.

At the time, those outfits made perfect sense.

Because around Lily, nobody cared.

Girls vacation rules were very different from existing around a six foot tattooed man with bedroom eyes and a voice capable of dismantling rational thought.

Ophelia buried her face briefly in her hands before continuing to search desperately through the suitcase.

Finally....

“Aha.”

She pulled out the most decent thing she owned.

A maroon satin sleep set.

Loose button up shirt. Soft shorts ending mid thigh.

Still feminine.

Still clinging in ways satin always did.

But at least her entire chest wouldn’t accidentally become a public event every five minutes.

“That’ll have to do.”

Thunder rattled the windows again as she grabbed fresh towels and disappeared into the bathroom.

The moment icy water hit her skin, she gasped sharply.

“Shit....”

The water was freezing.

But strangely refreshing too.

Ophelia tilted her head back beneath the shower, letting cold water slide over heated skin while steam slowly filled the room around her.

Trying desperately to calm herself down.

Trying very hard not to think about him.

Unfortunately..

Her brain seemed deeply committed to self destruction tonight.

Because every single time she closed her eyes...

She remembered Killian’s hand against her waist.

Firm. Steady. Possessive without even trying to be.

The heat of his body behind hers. The roughness in his voice when he whispered careful. The way his fingers flexed slightly against her skin like restraint physically hurt him.

God.

Why did that affect her so much?

He barely touched her.

Yet somehow her entire body reacted like it remembered every second of it in perfect detail.

Ophelia quickly rinsed shampoo from her hair, trying to force her thoughts elsewhere.

Didn’t work.

Because now she was imagining what those tattooed hands would feel like without restraint.

Sliding.

Gripping.

Holding.

“Absolutely not,” she muttered immediately.

This was getting ridiculous.

She finished quickly before changing into the satin set, the cool fabric gliding smoothly against freshly washed skin.

The maroon color deepened her complexion beautifully while damp dark hair fell loosely around her shoulders in soft messy waves.

Comfortable.

Simple.

Still....

Not exactly innocent.

The satin shirt shifted subtly whenever she moved, exposing flashes of smooth skin near her collarbone and thighs.

Ophelia stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment before sighing softly.

At this point, breathing near Killian Carter probably looked suggestive.

Thunder cracked violently overhead.

The lights flickered once again.

And somewhere beyond her bedroom door....

The storm inside the mansion felt far more dangerous than the one outside.

She stood in front of the mirror, slowly running the blow dryer through damp strands of dark hair while rain continued crashing violently against the windows outside.

The warm air filled the room softly, muting most of the storm beyond the glass.

For a moment....

She almost relaxed.

Almost.

Then her phone rang.

Ophelia immediately dropped the dryer onto the bed and rushed toward the nightstand.

“Finally,” she muttered under her breath, grabbing the phone.

Lily Carter.

The second Ophelia answered, words exploded out of her mouth.

Where are you?

Why are you not answering your phone?

And why did you conveniently forget to mention your father is here?

Also when are you coming back because this situation is weird and your house suddenly feels like the setting of a forbidden romance novel....”

“Breathe,” Lily interrupted through uncontrollable laughter.

Ophelia inhaled sharply.

Then immediately continued.

“No seriously, Lily. You told me this was girls vacation energy. You did not mention your father looking like he walks out of luxury mafia edits on the internet.”

Lily gasped dramatically.

“OH MY GOD. You think my dad is hot?”

“I absolutely did not say that.”

“You implied it.”

“I implied nothing.”

“You’re flustered.”

“I’m hanging up.”

Lily’s laughter only grew louder through the speaker.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“No,” Ophelia muttered while sitting on the edge of the bed, satin shorts sliding slightly higher against her thighs.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Lily finally calmed enough to explain.

“Dad only came to drop me here this morning. He was supposed to head back to the city after making sure everything was okay before you arrived.”

Ophelia frowned.

“Then why is he still here?”

“Have you looked outside?”

Almost on cue, thunder cracked violently through the sky.

Rain slammed harder against the windows.

“Yeah…” Ophelia mumbled quietly.

“The weather got insane out of nowhere. Roads near the highway are flooding, so I’m stuck at my cousin’s place until the storm calms down enough for me to drive back.”

Silence followed briefly.

Then....

“Meaning,” Ophelia said slowly, “I’m alone here with your father.”

Lily went suspiciously quiet for two full seconds.

Then dramatically whispered....

“Forbidden.”

“Oh my God.”

“I’m kidding,” Lily laughed again. “Relax. Dad barely talks to people unless they’re business related.”

That should’ve comforted her.

Instead, Ophelia instantly remembered the feeling of Killian Carter’s hand gripping her waist earlier.

Firm.

Steady.

Dangerously careful.

And the way his eyes had darkened for that single devastating second before he stepped away from her.

Her stomach tightened unexpectedly.

“Well,” Lily continued casually, “at least you’re safe there. Nobody survives storms better than my dad. The man literally grills steaks during power outages.”

“That sounds deeply concerning.”

“It’s honestly kind of impressive.”

Despite herself, Ophelia laughed softly.

Then Lily’s voice softened slightly.

“You okay though?”

Ophelia’s gaze drifted unconsciously toward the mirror across the room.

Wet dark hair. Flushed cheeks. Maroon satin hugging her skin softly.

And somewhere downstairs...

Killian Carter.

“Yes,” she lied smoothly.

Because saying your father’s existence is making me psychologically unstable felt inappropriate somehow.

“Good,” Lily said. “Try not to murder each other before I get there tomorrow.”

Ophelia froze.

“Tomorrow?”

“If weather clears.”

She dropped backward dramatically onto the mattress.

“You’re evil.”

“But I love you too. Bye.”

The call ended.

Silence slowly filled the room again except for distant thunder and rain.

Ophelia stared at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed her.

Tomorrow.

Meaning one entire night trapped inside Rosewood Estate alone with Killian Carter.

Fantastic.

Absolutely fantastic.

Ophelia rolled dramatically onto her side before grabbing a pillow and pressing it over her face.

This was fine.

She would simply avoid him.

Easy.

Very easy.

She would stay inside this room, binge movies, scroll social media, mentally harass Lily through text for emotional compensation, and emerge tomorrow morning once Lily returned.

Problem solved.

No awkward tension. No dangerous eye contact. No noticing his hands every five seconds like some hormonally unstable disaster.

Perfect plan.

She nodded decisively to herself.

“Yes,” she whispered into the pillow. “Isolation. Smart.”

Then....

Knock.

Knock..

Her entire body froze.

Another knock followed.

Slower this time.

And then his voice came through the door.

Deep. Calm. Ruining lives effortlessly.

“Ophelia.”

God.

Even hearing her name in his voice should not feel like that.

She sat upright immediately, pulse stumbling somewhere into chaos.

For one irrational second, she considered pretending to be asleep.

At seven in the evening.

Genius.

“Ye.... yeah?” she called back, internally panicking.

“There’s dinner downstairs.”

“I’m not hungry.”

A pause followed.

Then....

“You haven’t eaten since you came here.”

The fact that he noticed made her stomach flip in the most annoying way possible.

“I’ll eat later.”

Silence again.

Ophelia relaxed slightly, thinking maybe he had left.

Then the door handle moved.

Not opening fully.

Just enough for Killian to lean casually against the frame.

And every intelligent thought abandoned her body instantly.

His gaze landed on her.

Then stayed there.

A dangerous kind of quiet settled between them.

Because this was the first time he’d seen her after changing.

The maroon satin shirt draped softly over her skin, slightly oversized but impossible to call innocent. Damp dark hair spilled around her shoulders in messy waves while warm bedside lighting turned her bare legs into something dangerously distracting against the sheets.

Killian went very still.

Ophelia suddenly wished the blanket covered more of her body.

Or less.

Honestly, her brain had stopped functioning entirely.

“I said I’m fine,” she managed softly.

His eyes lifted to hers slowly.

“You always hide in rooms when you’re uncomfortable?”

The directness caught her off guard.

“No.”

“You’re doing it now.”

Heat rushed into her cheeks immediately.

Killian crossed his arms over his chest, tattoos shifting beneath tanned skin as thunder rumbled outside.

And somehow he looked even more dangerous standing there in the dim hallway light.

Not because he was doing anything inappropriate.

Because he wasn’t.

That was the problem.

Everything about him felt restrained.

Controlled.

Like there was something beneath the surface he kept chained down with effort.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Ophelia lied.

One dark eyebrow lifted slightly.

The man did not look convinced for even half a second.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re intimidating.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Killian stared at her quietly.

Then unexpectedly....

A low chuckle escaped him.

Deep enough to curl slowly around her spine.

“I’m intimidating?” he repeated.

Ophelia instantly regretted opening her mouth.

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Do I?”

God.

That voice again.

Slow. Rough. Far too calm.

She swallowed hard as Killian stepped slightly inside the room now, one hand resting loosely against the doorframe.

“Come & Eat dinner, Ophelia.”

That should not have sounded like temptation.

Yet somehow it did.

“I can bring it upstairs if you’re planning to avoid me all night.”

The teasing beneath his voice was subtle.

But there.

And somehow that made it infinitely worse.

Ophelia stared at him for one second too long before quietly asking....

“Are you always this aware of people?”

Killian’s eyes darkened slightly.

“Only when they’re trying very hard not to look at me.”

Oh.

Oh that was unfair.

Because she had been avoiding looking at him.

Mostly because every time she did, her thoughts became deeply inappropriate almost immediately.

The storm outside crashed louder against the estate.

But neither of them moved.

And somewhere between thunder and silence....

The tension between them became impossible to ignore anymore.

Ophelia didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Killian finally pushed himself away from the doorframe.

Slowly.

Like leaving cost him effort too.

“Five minutes,” he said quietly. “Then come downstairs.”

Not a demand.

Not exactly.

Worse.

Because somehow she wanted to listen.

Killian turned, walking down the hallway with calm measured steps, and Ophelia’s traitorous eyes followed him automatically, tracing the broad line of his shoulders beneath the dark fabric before he disappeared around the corner.

The moment he was gone, silence crashed back into the room.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

Ophelia immediately buried her face into her hands.

This was insane.

She had known this man for years.

Technically.

But tonight felt different.

Tonight, she was seeing him.

And somehow....

She had the terrifying feeling that Killian was seeing her too.

Not as Lily’s harmless university friend.

Not as some kid visiting for summer.

No.

Something about the way he looked at her felt older than that.

Hungrier than that.

And God help her.....

A reckless part of her liked it.

Thunder rolled violently outside as rain streaked against the giant windows.

The storm wasn’t calming down anytime soon.

Neither was whatever this was becoming between them.

Ophelia stood slowly from the bed, smoothing nervous fingers over the satin fabric clinging softly against her skin.

Then her phone buzzed.

A text from Lily.

Lily: Daddy behaving? 😭

Ophelia stared at the message for a long moment.

Then typed back slowly.

Ophelia: That depends.

Three dots appeared instantly.

Lily: …what does THAT mean?

Ophelia looked toward the still open bedroom door.

Toward the dark hallway beyond it.

Toward the low sound of Killian’s voice downstairs speaking to someone on the phone.

Deep. Calm. Sinfully rough.

Her heartbeat turned uneven again.

Finally, she locked her phone and whispered softly to herself....

“That’s exactly the problem.I donot know....”