His Irresistible Pretty Little Sin

Fear of the dark

Emma's POV

Tears welled up in my eyes as his furious voice echoed through the room. I had just met him a few minutes ago, and he was already sending fear through me. With a gulp, I looked at him and saw his eyes consumed with mixed emotions, but the one that stood vividly was anger. He had so much anger and hatred for me, and the thought of that sent a cold chill down my spine.

I didn't know how to explain it to him that I was driving the car, and the accident had happened so suddenly. “I swear, I had nothing to do with it,” I stammered, my voice trembling.

He leaned in closer, his cold breath grazing my cheek as he examined me closely. Gosh, I could perceive his manly cologne of fresh mint. “Who drove the car?” he asked in an accusing manner, and more fear gripped my entire being.

“You won’t like what I will do to you if you don’t speak and tell me the truth,” he threatened, causing a nervous gulp to pass down my throat.

A sense of desperation washed over me as I realized the gravity of the situation. I had heard stories about him, and none of them were good. “I didn't cause the accident,” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

His piercing gaze bore into mine, and for a moment, I thought he might yank me out of the bed, but he didn't. Instead, he moved away abruptly and stood up. “You will have to prove it,” he declared, his tone unwavering.

I didn't know how to prove my innocence, but I was willing to do anything to clear my name and be on his good side. “I was the one driving the car,” I announced with a gulp. “But the accident wasn’t my fault. It was a truck that lost control and hit our car from mom's side of the door.” I explained with my voice breaking.

My heart raced as I confessed to being the one behind the wheel. The room felt suffocating, and I could feel his intense gaze on me.

“I promise, it wasn't my fault,” I pleaded, tears streaming down my face. “I couldn't have done anything to prevent it. It happened so fast, and I did my best to steer away, but the truck came out of nowhere.” I pleaded but heard him grunt, and that made me shed more tears. I was crying for so many reasons, but the one that pained me the most was that he hated me so much. I hated the fact that he hated me. Anyone can hate me, but not him.

“Stop crying!” He grunted in an annoyed tone, as if my tears were annoying him. “No one touched you, so why are you crying?”

I choked back my tears and quickly wiped my face with the back of my palms. I didn’t want him to get angrier at me.

The room fell into total silence while I buried my eyes on the bed to avoid his piercing gaze on me. He had this strong aura around him that spoke of dominance and authority. I felt so small just by him staring at me.

I heard him release a heavy sigh before he took back his seat. “Do you know your biological parents?” He asked. “No!” I quickly responded because I knew he hated unanswered questions. “Where were you adopted from?” He asked, and I gulped, wondering why he was asking me such questions. “In an orphanage in France.” I responded, my voice barely a whisper.

He grunted, and then the room fell into an awkward silence before he spoke again. “My sister has made me your custodian, but I think there will be no need for that because you are already 18 and can take care of yourself.” I gulped but didn’t say a word. I wouldn’t dare to speak when he hadn’t asked me to.

“I believe you can stay on your own.” He asked, and I swallowed hard. How do I tell him that I was scared of the dark?

“I believe you heard me.” He asked, and I nodded. “Yes, I can stay on my own.” I lied while avoiding eye contact with him. I didn’t want to be a trouble for him.

“That’s fine then,” he said and tried to get off his seat when suddenly the power supply went off, and everywhere went dark.

In the sudden darkness, I felt a rush of panic. My fear of the dark, a childhood phobia that still haunted me, surged back with intensity. My breath seized in my chest, and I felt like I was taking my last breath with every passing second. “Lord Emerson… Are you there?” I asked with trembling lips, but didn’t get a response from him, which intensified my fear and panic.

“Lord Emerson,” I called out as I gripped the sheet of the bed, but I was answered by the silence of the room.

Despite his silence, I could still feel his presence looming over me in the darkness. It was a chilling and unsettling feeling. Hot sweat formed on my forehead, and my body began to tremble. “Lord Emerson, I’m scared of the dark.” I exclaimed in fear as tears stood in my eyes. The light was taking too long to be restored.

“Stay calm, I’m here,” his authoritative voice resounded in the room, and suddenly, I felt a cold chill pass down my spine, and suddenly, my fear went away. It was unbelievable how his words could have such an effect on me.

I clung to his voice like a lifeline in the pitch-black room, my rapid breaths gradually slowing as his presence reassured me. Even though I couldn't see him, I felt safer with Lord Emerson nearby.

Seconds later, the light was restored, and I blinked in the sudden brightness before taking a deep breath and then closing my eyes for a moment.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Lord Emerson was still seated nearby, his expression unreadable.

I could see his face more clearly now, his features softened. For the first time since we met, I saw a flicker of something other than anger in his eyes—perhaps a hint of empathy. It made me wonder if there was more to him than the stories I'd heard.

Embarrassed, I gulped and looked away, but then I noticed he stood to his feet and began making his way towards the door. He paused at the door and looked back at me with those chilling green eyes. "Get ready, you will be living with me.” He announced, and my eyes widened while my mouth was left hanging.