His Sweet Bella

Chapter 5

Shere, England

Ara had not expected that she would get this close to Angela and others in such a short span of time. She was coming back to the mansion from her orphanage. Today was her day off so she had left for the orphanage the previous evening only. She was missing her former home immensely.      

The mansion was already asleep by the time she came back. It was 12.30 in the evening. She had gotten late tonight. 

Ara quietly got into the unilluminated mansion and padded towards her room. She sensed something off. The air of the mansion felt different, colder. Not giving it much thought, she went to her room. 

Ara changed into her pajama and shirt. The trip had made her hungry. She decided to get something to eat from the kitchen. 

She bothered not to turn on the light as she now knew every inch of the mansion. 

Her eyes bulged out when she opened the refrigerator and saw a variety of mouth-watering food tucked inside it. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was some festival or something. Her tongue flicked out and slithered over her lips.   

Pleased with the view, she grabbed a bowl and filled it with white sauce pasta. She slid into the bar tool and started gobbling it up. 

Once her belly was full and packed, she washed the bowl and decided to go back to her room. 

She was on her way to her room when she heard a noise, making her stop in her tracks. She stood rooted to her spots, wondering if she actually heard something. Her doubts were dispelled when she heard the same noise a second later. Perhaps, Jenna is looking for something, she thought to herself. She decided to see her. 

The lights in the living area were off. Her heart hammered against her heart when she spotted the figure standing above the TV shelf, rummaging through drawers. It didn’t take her a second to realize that this mountain of a man was not Jenna. In fact, he wasn’t anyone she knew because she didn’t know anyone so huge. His silhouette was giant and frightening. 

A burglar. Her mind screamed. 

Her instincts kicked into gear. She had to think on her feet. Catch him off guard, Strike him, injure him and then scream bloody. Yes. She anxiously scanned her surroundings for any tool. A vase was kept on the table. She grabbed the vase, mindful of not making a noise. The burglar was still busy cursing under his breath and rooting through the drawers. What is he looking for? Does he really think he can find gold and diamond on a living area shelf? He appeared foolish to her. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be difficult to bring him down. 

She, with hushed steps, sneaked up behind him. With shaking hands, she swung the vase behind her shoulder. The burglar’s muscly body tensed up as if he had sensed her presence. But before he could turn around, she hit him with as much force as she could muster. Due to their huge height difference, the vase only managed to reach his shoulder. 

“What the Fuck,” the thief bent and hissed in pain. His voice, harsh and daunting. A shiver of dread ran down her spine. Her legs started trembling with fear. She couldn’t sense but his dangerous aura was intimidating her to no end. She raised the vase again and swung it towards him, this time targeting his head but the man grabbed her wrist in the mid-way, crushing her plan. His hold was firm and unrelenting. Her heartbeat started jackhammering against her heart and her hand started shaking. He was going to kill her. She attempted at releasing her hand from his death grip but the man wasn’t letting up. She was stunned with fear. He squeezed her wrist tightly. She whimpered as she felt a sharp pain, she felt her bone would crumble into powder. Her hold on the vase weakened and it fell from her hand, giving way to a loud crashing sound. 

The burglar raised his hand and flashed his phone’s flashlight on her.   

Ara brought her free hand up to shield her eyes from the sharp light. The burglar didn’t bother to remove the light even after sensing her discomfort. He stepped closer, she stepped back.

“Who are you?” a deep and sonorous voice rumbled. The voice with a strong accent. Goosebumps popped all over her body. She also sensed a tinge of agitation in his measured tone. Ara didn’t reply. Tears burst forth and her lips trembled. She just wanted to get out of here. 

“Leave me,” she croaked out. Her voice, so low that she doubted if he heard her. The man stood like a statue. 

“Who are you?” his voice demanded in a menacing tone. Dread twisted in her gut and a drop of tear slipped down her wide eyes. 

She couldn’t get words out of her mouth. He took her silence as disobedience. He stepped forward, exerted more pressure around her already aching wrist. She flinched and struggled to pry his hand off her. But this man had a hold of steel. 

Before she could say anything else, the room flooded with light. Not being able to take so much light at once, she squeezed her eyes shut. She heard familiar footsteps approaching her. 

Hope flickered inside her. She removed her arm from her eyes and dared to look up into the eyes of the intruder. A pair of green-grey beady eyes were staring at her with the intention of skinning her alive. His jaws were tense and his ice-cold eyes were reflecting rage, his insides were bursting with, in that moment. Finding his gaze unnerving, she instantly flickered her gaze down. 

Her cheeks flushed when she realized he wasn’t wearing any shirt. His rugged body resembled a canvas. A number of tattoos spread across his tanned chest. There was a tattoo of a serpent designed on his upper left chest and the other side had roman numbers written on it. Her eyes traveled down his bulging biceps and paused at a tattoo that caused her a tinge of discomfort. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed the evil symbol, a sigil of Baphomet branded on his bicep. Being a devotee of god, the discovery scandalised her. Why would anyone get that? Not a moment later, she realized it wasn’t the only one, he also had an unholy trinity tattooed on the inside of his forearm. Her eyes trailed to his torso that resembled a block of bricks and had a good share of strange tattoos on them. And then she felt even more embarrassed when she saw his pajama that was hanging dangerously low around his hips.   

“What just happened here?” she snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Jenna who sounded both surprised and confused.

“Who the fuck is she?” the man gritted out through his teeth. 

“Mr. Serrano, she..Oh lord, she is the new caretaker of Baby Angela. I don’t know what has happened here but trust me she meant no harm. She wasn’t aware of your arrival? She must have mistaken you for a thief,” Jenna blabbered nervously

Ara’s mouth dried and throat clogged. Did she hear Mr. Serrano? Her dewy eyes widened both in fear and shock. The remaining courage she had, left her at the mention of his name. She shifted her wide eyes over to Jenna who was looking at her with a sorry expression. Oh lord.  

He shot her hand away and turned to Jenna. 

“I want her out tomorrow morning,” he ordered sternly. 

Ara’s heart shattered into pieces. More tears brimmed her eyes. No, she can’t lose this job. She was tempted to fall to her knees and apologize but at the same time, she was afraid of his attention.  

“But sir..she,” 

“Tomorrow,” he interrupted in finality. His voice held a threatening tone. Jenna’s shoulder slumped in defeat and she nodded in acceptance.

“Now get me some fucking Advil,” he spat annoyed before striding away, towards his room, without sparing a single glance at appalled Ara. 

Ara noticed the digit “666,” tattooed on the back of his neck through her blurred vision as he swaggered towards his room without a care in the world. 

This man is pure evil, she thought to herself. 

Their first meeting was quite a bumpy one. What do you think? Comment and vote.