Chapter 9 - The Healing Light
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The morning sun broke through the heavy storm clouds, casting a golden, forgiving light across the estate.
Hannah woke up in a room she didn't recognize. The mattress was incredibly soft, the sheets made of expensive, heavy silk. She sat up, wincing as the raw, chafed skin around her wrists pulled tight.
She wasn't in her small servant’s quarters. She was in a massive guest suite in the master wing of the house. Poppy was curled up next to her, sleeping peacefully, her thumb tucked securely in her mouth.
A soft knock on the heavy oak door startled her.
“Come in,” Hannah called out nervously.
The door opened, and Victor stepped inside. He was dressed in fresh clothes—a dark sweater and slacks—and carried a small silver tray with a steaming cup of tea and a medical kit.
“Good morning,” Victor said softly, closing the door behind him. “I hope the room is comfortable.”
“It’s beautiful,” Hannah said, pulling the duvet up slightly. “But I should be back in my own room. I have a shift to start.”
“You are not working today, Hannah. Or tomorrow,” Victor stated, setting the tray down on the bedside table. “You are officially off duty until further notice.”
He pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat down. He opened the medical kit, pulling out a tube of antiseptic ointment and soft white bandages.
“Give me your hands,” he requested.
Hannah hesitated, then slowly offered her bruised, raw wrists.
Victor took her hands with an incredibly gentle touch. His large, calloused fingers were startlingly warm against her cold skin. He carefully applied the soothing ointment to the cuts left by the zip-ties, his dark eyes focused entirely on the task.
The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming. The quiet room, the soft morning light, the powerful man tending to her wounds like she was something precious.
“I owe you an apology,” Victor murmured, his thumb lightly brushing her palm as he wrapped the bandage. “I accused you of theft. I let my guard down, and you paid the price.”
“You saved my life, Victor,” Hannah whispered, using his first name without thinking.
May you like
He looked up, his gaze locking onto hers. The air between them pulled taut, heavy with an unspoken, dangerous tension.
“I will never let anyone hurt you again,” he promised, his voice a low, fierce vow.
