Chapter 6. The Captured Bird

“L–let go!” Cecilia snapped, her voice trembling. She started pushing at Charles’s arms, which were tightly wrapped around her waist, but it was useless. “Let go, you bastard!” she tried to shout louder.

But Charles only widened his crooked smile, tightening his hold. Instinctively, Cecilia pressed her hands against his broad chest, trying to keep a safe distance.

“Let go of me! Are you deaf?” she barked again, trying to glare at him. But as soon as her eyes met his sharp gaze, her breath caught. That look seemed to drown her, to strip her bare.

Charles leaned in closer, his smile right in front of her lips. “Let you go? I already told you, didn’t I? I’ll never let go of something as precious as you,” he whispered, his voice a hiss.

Smack!

A sharp slap landed on his left cheek, jerking his face to the side. Cecilia’s breathing was ragged, her hand stinging. “You bastard! You’re insane! Do you have any brains at all?” she spat, her voice shaking with barely suppressed rage. “I said let go—”

Suddenly, Cecilia stopped mid-sentence. She let out a small yelp as the strong arms around her waist released her. Without support, she stumbled backward.

A loud splash shattered the silence. Cecilia plunged into the swimming pool, shock overwhelming her. Her mind couldn’t catch up fast enough, and she fell right in as soon as she lost her balance.

She immediately sank into the deep water. Her feet couldn’t touch the bottom. Cecilia realized this massive pool had varying depths. Her arms started flailing, desperately trying to keep herself afloat.

“Help...” Cecilia wanted to scream, but stopped herself, remembering there was no one else there but Charles.

He stood unmoving, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on Cecilia with no reaction—as if the drowning woman meant nothing more than a helpless mouse.

Cold and fear began to mingle inside Cecilia. Her legs kicked wildly, but her dress only tangled around her, making it harder to move. Her head bobbed up and down dramatically, but she still refused to call out for help.

Not if that crazy man was the only one around. Cecilia would never ask Charles for help, not even with her life on the line.

“Help...” Finally, in her moment of crisis, Cecilia whispered the word with what breath she had left. She had already swallowed a lot of water, her lungs burning.

Her body failed to rise to the surface again. Seeing this, Charles didn’t hesitate—he dove straight into the pool. His athletic body sliced through the air and crashed into the water, quickly sinking after her. His strong arms cut through the water, grabbing her arm.

In the last flicker of consciousness, Cecilia saw a man swimming swiftly toward her. That face... so handsome. Then she felt herself being pulled up, until her nose finally broke the surface and she could breathe again.

Coughing violently, Cecilia spat out water she’d swallowed. She was gasping for breath. Her hands grabbed onto whatever she could find—and clung tightly when she found something solid. Her body trembled violently, having just escaped a terrifying death.

After coughing so hard her stomach hurt, Cecilia finally managed to focus. First, she glanced down at her soaking wet body. Her dress clung tightly, outlining every curve.

She was pressed up against another body...

Cecilia’s gaze traveled up the man’s chest. Muscular and firm, with the top two buttons undone, she could see a few fine hairs on his pale skin.

She swallowed hard when she saw her hands wrapped around his neck. Then, as her eyes finally reached the face of her rescuer, she gulped again. She tried to let go, but fear gripped her. They were still in the pool, though not in the deep end.

Charles stood firm, Cecilia clinging to him like a monkey. Even her legs were wrapped around his waist. He met her anxious, fearful gaze and raised an eyebrow in response.

The silence lingered. No more frantic splashing, no one else coming. Cecilia froze in place. Charles made no move to take her to the edge, deliberately staying in the middle of the pool.

“Why are you holding on so tight when you just told me to let go?” Charles asked in a low voice that made Cecilia flinch.

She swallowed nervously. Charles seemed to enjoy the mix of anger and fear on her pretty face.

Yes, pretty. Very pretty. With water droplets still clinging to her face, hair plastered to her head, her dress outlining her body, and lips trembling from the cold—it sparked something hot inside Charles. Especially with the feel of her soft curves pressed against his chest.

Charles swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and Cecilia caught it. Instantly, she was thrown back to a memory of that night, when they made love so passionately.

She remembered her fingers reaching up to touch that little bump on his throat. The urge to repeat the act whispered in her mind. But Cecilia just bit her lip unconsciously—a gesture that only provoked the hungry beast within Charles.

His hand slid up to the nape of her neck and paused there. “Cecilia, you’re like a wild bird fighting to avoid the golden cage I’ve prepared. But in the end, after all your running, you’re the one who comes back and puts yourself in my safe, golden cage. Because you know, in the end, it’s the safest place for you,” he murmured, his voice deep and seductive.

Cecilia didn’t say a word. She even held her breath, her hands still refusing to let go. Not while they were still in the middle of the pool. She was afraid of drowning again. That was too close.

“And me, you can call me a skilled hunter who never lets his prey go once he’s set his sights,” Charles continued, his long fingers caressing Cecilia’s cold face.

This time, she didn’t push his hand away. Cecilia seemed to lose control, even starting to enjoy the touch. When Charles’s thumb reached her trembling lips, Cecilia’s eyes locked with his. Their gazes held, second after second passing in silence.

Finally, Charles’s left hand slid to wrap possessively around her waist, pulling her even closer. Cecilia’s heart pounded as she remembered that same sensation—the heat when their bodies pressed together.

Damn it, she could feel that heat spreading through her cold, shivering body. His embrace, which should have been dangerous, instead brought her comfort and safety. Cecilia froze as Charles’s right hand slid to her nape, pulling her closer.

At the same time, Charles leaned in, their lips nearly touching. Their hot, ragged breaths mingled. Cecilia’s lips parted. Her logic was completely gone; all she wanted now was something crazy. Her desire, awakened from who knows when, made her want Charles to kiss her—hard, to feel his tongue hungrily exploring her mouth. Just like before.

“Cecilia!”

Suddenly, Lena’s voice echoed faintly, growing louder with each call. She was coming closer.

Cecilia instantly let go of Charles’s neck, her legs dropping. Her eyes widened when her feet touched the pool floor. The water only came up to her chest. If she’d known, she would have gone to the edge long ago. Her panic had blinded her to the pool’s depth; she’d never used it before, only guessed at its danger when she thought she was dying.

Cecilia tried to move, but as she took her first step, she stumbled. Charles’s strong hand caught her again, his arm a support as she reached out for something to hold onto. But Cecilia quickly pushed his hand away, glaring at him. Charles just looked back, lips pressed tight.

“Cecilia! Oh my God, darling! What happened to you?” Lena finally appeared, shouting in panic when she saw Cecilia and Charles making their way to the edge. Her face was filled with shock and worry.

Cecilia swallowed, suddenly unsure what to say. Her bare feet padded across the cold pool floor as she hurried to get out.

“She fell in. I just helped her a bit,” Charles said casually. With a smooth motion, he climbed out, extending a hand to Cecilia.

But Cecilia didn’t take it right away. She shot him a sharp look, warning him. He returned the gaze, intense. Hearing Lena’s panicked shouts for Evan and the servants, Cecilia finally had no choice but to take his hand. He pulled her out easily.

Cecilia stood on the poolside as the servants, Evan, and Bertha arrived.

“What happened?” Evan demanded, eyes darting around. He saw Cecilia and Charles, both soaked.

Cecilia accepted a large, warm towel from a servant. Lena helped wrap it around her, trying to warm her shivering body.

“Cecilia fell in, Evan. Thank goodness Charles was quick to help her,” Lena explained, her voice still shaking. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if no one saw her and came to help.”

Charles also took a towel, drying himself off quietly.

“Uncle,” Evan said, looking at Charles, “thank you. Thank you for saving Cecilia,” his panic clearly genuine.

Bertha stood frozen behind Evan, sneaking glances at the two soaked figures.

“It was nothing,” Charles replied, not looking at Evan. His gaze lingered on Cecilia.

Bertha noticed this, sensing something strange in Charles’s eyes—a hidden secret.

Evan moved to Cecilia’s side, hugging her trembling body. Cecilia resisted slightly, but his grip held firm.

“Take her inside, Evan,” Lena ordered.

Evan nodded. “Come on, darling, let’s go inside.” He wrapped his arms around her back.

Knowing it was pointless to resist, Cecilia let herself be guided by Evan. With Lena worried, she couldn’t risk arousing suspicion.

As Evan, Cecilia, and Lena walked ahead, Bertha quietly watched Charles at the back. She’d been observing him all along, noticing how his eyes always found Cecilia whenever possible. That look... Bertha sensed something else.

It seemed impossible that Charles had just happened to be there when Cecilia fell in. Besides, why did Cecilia fall in at all? Bertha wondered. Then, a sly smile appeared as a wild idea formed in her mind.