Chapter Seven

A sharp, terrified scream tore from my throat before I could stop it. I instantly slapped both hands over my front, my heart hammering violently against my ribs as I tried to cover as much of my naked body as possible. Water droplets flew from my skin, my face burning with a heat that had absolutely nothing to do with the steaming bathroom behind me.

Christian didn't even flinch at my scream. He just leaned back further into the armchair, tossing the paperback onto the desk with a careless flick of his wrist. His dark sea-blue eyes didn't look away either. They stayed locked on me, completely unmoving, taking in my frantic, trembling state with an infuriatingly calm expression.

"Get out!" I shrieked, my voice cracking under the pure panic. "Get the hell out of my room!"

Instead of rushing for the door, he slowly shook his head, a slow, mocking smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He let his gaze travel deliberately from my wet, tangled hair down to my dripping bare feet before rising back to meet my eyes.

"Who walks out of a bathroom completely naked without a towel, Snow?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a lazy, teasing weight that filled the entire space between us. "In a house full of people, no less. You're practically begging for an audience."

"Are you completely mad?!" I screamed back, my vision blurring with tears of absolute fury and embarrassment. I pressed my arms tighter against my chest, wishing the hardwood floor would open up and swallow me whole. "This is my bedroom! I locked the door! How did you even get in here?"

“A master never reveals his... secrets,” Christian murmured.

The dark, teasing glint in his sea-blue eyes deepened as he slowly stood up from the armchair. His towering frame easily swallowed the remaining distance between us, his shadow stretching across the floor until it completely covered me.

I scrambled backward, my heel catching on the marble doorframe of the bathroom. My heart pounding so loudly I was certain he could hear it over the sound of my ragged breathing.

Christian didn't walk toward the exit. Instead, he turned on his heel and strolled casually toward my massive walk-in closet. He pushed the grand white door open, stepping inside for a brief second before walking back out with a plush, oversized white bath towel clutched in his large hand.

He closed the distance between us with slow, deliberate steps, holding the towel out to me.

I snatched it out of his grip aggressively, pulling it tight around my body and tucking it securely over my chest.

The thick fabric offered a shield, but the sheer annoyance and hatred burning in my chest didn't fade. I glared at him, my knuckles turning white against the cloth.

Christian watched the fiery look in my eyes, his mouth tilting up into a dark, knowing smirk. He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping into a low rumble. "Now... this is what perverted actually looks like."

"So you entered my room for revenge or what?" I spat out, my voice laced with venom. "You stole a key just to look at me?"

"Nah," he replied smoothly, straightening back up to his full height and shoving his hands into his pockets. "Your mom sent for you."

"My mom?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes.

"Yeah. Our mom," he countered, his tone lazily teasing.

"She is not your mom," I snapped back, my jaw tightening at how easily he twisted the words.

Christian just shrugged, a reckless spark dancing in his dark blue eyes. "Tomato, tomato."

"And if she wanted to send for me, she couldn't find a single maid in this massive palace?" I demanded, gesturing toward the door. "She had to send you?"

"Well," Christian murmured, stepping just an inch closer, his massive presence completely crowding my space again. "She wants me to bond with my new little sister. Is there any crime in that?"

I let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh, staring up at his arrogant face. "Bonding? By seeing your little sister naked?"

Christian’s smirk widened, his dark blue eyes glinting with a dangerous, unchecked amusement. He didn't look even remotely ashamed. If anything, my outrage seemed to feed his appetite for pushing my boundaries.

"I didn't tell her to skip the towel, Snow," he whispered, leaning down just enough that his lips were inches from my ear. The warmth of his breath sent a conflicting, frustrating shiver straight down my spine. "That little bonus was all you. I was just acting as the messenger."

I pressed myself further against the doorframe, gripping the towel like it was actual body armor. "You're disgusting. Get out of my room before I go downstairs and tell James exactly how his perfect son behaves behind closed doors."

"Go ahead," Christian challenged softly, straightening up without a care in the world. He turned and walked toward my bedroom door, casually tossing the silver master key in the air and catching it in his palm with a metallic click. "Tell my dad. Tell your mom, too. Let's see who they believe—the quiet, dramatic new girl who leaves her door unlocked, or the son who was just trying to bring his sister down for breakfast."

He paused at the threshold, his hand resting on the doorknob. He looked back over his shoulder, his scanning gaze cutting through the remaining distance between us one last time.

"Ten minutes, Snow," he rumbled, his voice dropping into that commanding, unmoving tone. "They're waiting at the table. And don't forget about tonight. I expect you ready by eight. Nice tits by the way.”

Before I could hurl another insult at his head, he stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind him. The lock clicked back into place from the outside, leaving me standing alone in the center of the massive room, trembling with a mixture of intense hatred and a strange, hot panic I couldn't quite explain.

I rushed over to the door, checking the handle. It was unlocked now. He had left it open just enough to prove a point.

I hate him, I thought, pulling the towel tighter around myself as I marched toward the closet to find some clothes. I absolutely hate him.