Are You Blaming Me Just Now

Zipping up her battered suitcase, Hazel shut the door on Brenda's shrieking voice. She quickly dragged her meager belongings out to a waiting cab. The sweltering August heat clung to the city streets as she headed toward the exclusive Willow Garden district. She arrived around seven in the evening, only to find herself stranded outside the imposing neighborhood gates.

Gideon had promised to send the specific villa number and the security gate password, but her phone screen remained blank. She scrolled through her contacts, realizing she didn't even have his phone number to call and remind him.

With no other option, Hazel crouched near the towering stone pillars of the entrance. The concrete pavement radiated the day's baked-in heat. The humid air clung to her skin, and sweat gathered at her nape as dusk slowly fell.

An agonizing hour dragged by. Finally, the sleek silhouette of a black Rolls-Royce glided toward the curb and slowed down.

Her legs tingled painfully, robbed of feeling from crouching on the hard ground for so long. Unable to stand, she raised a weak, trembling hand and called out in a raspy voice, "Mr. Hayes, Mr. Hayes…"

Hearing the faint sound, Gideon slammed on the brakes. The luxury vehicle came to a smooth halt. He stepped out, his dark brows furrowing in genuine surprise as he stared down at his new wife huddled on the grimy pavement.

"What brings you here?" he asked, his tone laced with confusion.

A surge of deep-seated frustration bubbled in Hazel's chest, but she expertly masked her rising temper. Pasting a tight, professional smile on her lips, she braced her hand against the rough texture of the stone wall and forced herself upright. Pins and needles shot up her calves.

"You didn't tell me the exact address and the password," she pointed out, her voice dangerously close to cracking. "Where else could I go?"

A flicker of realization crossed his stoic features. "I'm sorry. I was busy with a meeting this afternoon and forgot about it," he explained coolly, though his apology lacked real warmth. He moved toward the passenger side to open the door, pausing only to cast a sharp, assessing glance her way. "Are you blaming me just now?"

Swallowing her retort, Hazel firmly kept her temper in check. She offered no reply, simply loading her heavy suitcase into the trunk in silence.

Minutes later, they pulled up to a sprawling bungalow. Hazel followed Gideon inside, mentally logging the door passcode he recited on the way in. The interior was a cavernous expanse of ultra-minimalistic design, all cool tones and sharp lines that portrayed a royal atmosphere.

Gideon immediately slipped back into his dictatorial CEO persona, laying down the ground rules of her habitation. Standing in the expansive foyer, he pointed a long finger up the glass staircase.

"You'll stay in the room on the left on the second floor. On the right is my bedroom and study room. You're not allowed to enter my rooms without my permission. And don't touch the displays."

"Okay," Hazel nodded obediently, suppressing a sigh.

Despite the suffocating boundaries, she rationalized that living under the same roof with this cold man was vastly preferable to enduring the toxic scheming of Brenda and Felix. With the crushing weight of her father's astronomical medical fees settled by her new husband, a wave of genuine relief washed over her. Without that burden, she calculated she could finally stash away her earnings. Soon, she would have enough for a solid downpayment on a small, independent apartment in Oakhaven.

Hazel hauled her luggage upstairs and meticulously unpacked her few clothes into the massive, empty closet. Just as she shut the wardrobe doors, an authoritative knock sounded at her door.

Gideon stood in the frame wearing casual loungewear. Without a word, he thrust a thick document file toward her.

"These are my hobbies and preferences," he commanded clinically. "Memorize them tonight. Don't give yourself away in front of grandpa tomorrow."

Hazel accepted the heavy file, masking an inward groan at the sheer volume of information. She looked up at him and challenged slightly, "What about my preferences? Do I have to tell you?"

His eyes remained flat. "That's not necessary," he replied coldly before turning on his heel and walking away. With his vast corporate resources, he had already investigated every mundane detail of her background.

Left alone in her spacious new room, Hazel flopped onto the plush mattress and flipped through the ridiculous document. She balked in disbelief at the obsessive level of detail. The megalomaniac had even dedicated a specific section to his exact underwear size.

After taking a long shower to wash off the evening's sweat, she picked up her phone and drafted a polite text to her department director, Richard Caldwell. She needed to officially request a day off tomorrow to meet Gideon's grandfather in the morning and visit her comatose father afterward.

Knowing her mean, vindictive boss, she braced herself. As expected, her screen lit up almost instantly with his vitriolic reply.

'Ms. Brooks, how dare you apply for leave again tomorrow after bunking off this afternoon? I'll not approve your leave application. If you don't show up tomorrow, you'll lose the full attendance bonus!'

Hazel sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the glowing screen. A profound sense of distress settled heavily in her chest. At Hayes Group, the coveted full attendance bonus was a staggering one thousand dollars. Her finances were currently tight, and losing that extra cash was a brutal blow. Yet, skipping this crucial, high-stakes meeting with Gideon's grandfather simply wasn't a viable option.