(Author's note: If you would like to listen to chapter 28, please click the video. Thank you!)

I gaze around the bathroom, this is bigger than my living room. My eyes pulled me to modern glass large bay windows pouring in the sunlight, which brightens up the entire room, and the red curtains are open. I go to close them- you know for privacy. I turn around and notice the walk-in shower on the back white marble wall is made of glass and Italian-made matte porcelain flooring. The vanity has two double sinks and also has white marble, which sets the tone for a luxe cohesive look.

 I look up at the roof, there's a glitzy chandelier. A chandelier in the bathroom? Why do you need a chandelier here? I guess his grandfather really enjoyed chandeliers. I wonder if every single room has a chandelier. 

 I stare at myself in the immense-round mirror spiraling across the entire double sinks. Staring at myself, I shake my head, my strands of hair are sticking out from side to side. He did mess up my hair, that cruel bastard. I slide the ponytail down and use my fingers as a comb to subdue as I can to fix my hair; then tie it back into a ponytail. 

  My sensitive skin where he had tickled me is sore. I lift up my shirt and find purple bruises on my hips. What the fuck?! The fucker bruised me! This man doesn't know his own strength. 

  My subconscious is snarling at me through the mirror. So he injures you and you had agreed not to go to the party for him. Not to mention he'd tortured you not to go. ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND GIRL? And I'm staring back at her, and saying out loud, "What? I did promise him and it's wrong to break a promise, even though he'd marked me with these purple bruises, a promise is a promise."

   Gosh, I am out of my mind if I'm talking to myself, alone in the bathroom. 

  I hear a knock at the door, startling me from arguing with myself.

  "Ms. Martinez?" A woman shouts from outside.

   Ms. Martinez? Who is this woman?

  "Yes," I reply. 

 "Mr. Suave informed me to let you know, lunch is ready," the woman informs me.

 "O-Okay I'll be out in a minute."

  When I finish using the bathroom, I open the door and find no one in the halls. Hmm... The woman must have left, I'm curious if that was his housekeeper or someone else.

  I head down the stairs and I didn't notice until now, a picture hangs in the corner of the wall. It's a picture of Chris on the beach, but younger, him as a teenager, and he has his arm wrapped around a girl. She looks like him, with jet black hair, but of course, it's longer than his hair, her eyes are blue almost like his, but they look grey, and she's wearing a champagne satin dress that brings out her nice curves. This must be his sister, she looks older than him in this picture. He did tell me his sister was five years older than him. They look happy and even in this picture, you can tell they're close as brother and sister.

  I continue down the stairs when a trail of a mouthwatering aroma is coming from the kitchen. It smells like grilled steak or some type of meat grilling. I follow my nose and find Chris in the kitchen. He's seated by the kitchen counter. A lady, I assume this must be the woman that called for me; she's serving him a plate of Grilled Zucchini Salad and a New York strip. Wow, is that supposed to be lunch?  

 Chris spots me coming up next to him, and he says, "Hey, I hope you're hungry," his tone is unexpectedly sweet.

  I'm not sure if it's for food or for him. What the hell? Did I just think that now? 

  "I am hungry," I say with a smile and take a seat next to him. I wince. Ouch! As I sit down I feel my bruises throbbing. I want to scream from the pain, but I keep it to myself and try to have a happy face.

  "You're okay?" Chris asks. I guess I can't keep a "happy face." I must look in pain.

  "Yeah, I'm fine," I lie.

   "No, you're not. Tell me what's wrong," he demands.

  "Well, I have bruises," I say with a frown.  

  "You do? Where?"

   "Here." I point my finger to my hips. 

    His eyes widen and then has a displeasing look. I think he is scowling at himself. "Shit. I'm sorry, Sussianna-"

   "It's fine," I cut him off. I don't want to talk about it.

 "Ms. Martinez..." I turn to the lady, who is making more steak, and I'm thankful for her interrupting us. "How would you like your steak cooked?"

  "Hmmm... Well done, please," I say politely. 

  "Okay,"  she replies and continues her task.

  "You like your steak, well-done?" I look at Chris, who's glaring at me.

  "Yes... Why? You don't?" I ask.

  "I like mine medium-rare. Have you ever tried it?"

  "No, I haven't."

  "You want to try it?" He asks and slices a piece of steak and holds it to my mouth so I can take it.

   Huh? But isn't she making me a steak? What's his game? 

  Okay, let's play then. I open my mouth and take it. Hmmm... It tastes good and I start to moan around his fork. This lady cooks well, I think she's a better cook than me.

  "You like it."

  I nod slowly. 

"More?" He asks. I can't help but grin and nod to him once more. He begins to slice another piece and passes it to me. I watch him, intently as I wrap my lips around his fork and slowly pull the steak off. I can play the game too, Chris. Whatever you are trying to play at?

 I think I'm teasing because his eyes widen with pleasure and he struggles to prevent himself from moaning, but a groan escapes his full lips. He's enjoying this. 

 "Here you go, Miss," the lady utters when she places the plate; hands me a white cotton napkin, along with a fork and knife. I intake the delicious smell, I know what it tastes like now and it's mouth-watering. I'm very hungry. 

  "Thank you," I smile.

  "My pleasure," she responds.

  "Thank you, Brooks. That will be all for today," Chris announces. Oh, that's the lady's name. 

   Brooks nods before leaving the kitchen. 

  "So, you like medium-rare, now."

 "Yeah, I do, but well-done tastes better," I mutter to him as I slice a piece of my steak; bring my fork to my lips, and take a bite with a satisfying moan.

  I look off my plate and our stares meet. His eyes are a burning blue, turning to dark blue. "I think you will taste better."

  I start to choke on my steak. WHAT? What the fuck did he just say to me?  Did I really hear him, right? This man is fucking mad!

  He pats me on the back and hands me a glass of water.

  Trying to recover my traumatism, I drink the water- eyeing him when I take a drink. He's smirking at me and I know he's enjoying my shock. This man is absolutely insane! Who does he think he is to say a thing like that to me? 

  "Excuse you," I manage to speak. 

   He doesn't answer me and instead takes a bite of his steak. "Hmmm..." he moans as he chews his food.

  I flash in a dissatisfying glare before putting my fork down. I get up and walk out of the kitchen. I can't deal with him and I lost my appetite. The bastard can't answer me and chooses to ignore me after he said a thing like that, then I can't stay with him. What is his problem?

   Yeah, I guess I was teasing him, but at least I would have the indecency to answer him back or say something. He's bewildering, and I don't know what he'll say next, especially with that dirty mouth of his. Someone, who doesn't want me wouldn't have said that. Would they? Maybe he might want me, but like I said and I'll repeat over again, I'm not going to be friends with benefits. He's such a confusing man! He doesn't want me and then he does. Okay, maybe I'm not too upset about his choice of words but I'm mostly furious about if he wants me or not. I just want a freaking answer!

  I grab my purse and move as fast as my inadequate legs will allow me, so I can get the hell out of here. 

  "Sussianna, wait! I was only teasing you. I'm sorry." Chris shouts as I exit the front door and slam it behind me.