Standing above, looking down at the figure clinging desperately to the bed sheet, Charles's hand gripping the balcony railing had the knuckles turning bone white.

Did she really hate him this much? Hate him enough to risk her severe fear of heights just to get away?

"What are you doing just standing there? Go stop her!" George, unsettled by Charles' terrifying expression, panicked and barked out an order.

The sudden shout only made Ashley more anxious. Her palms gripped the swinging bed sheet tighter, sweat rolling down her forehead.

She glanced up in fear-the man's eyes were still those same intense, unfathomable shadows, as if something savage lurked behind them, waiting for the chance to strike.

Her stomach twisted. She dared a look down and instantly felt the world tilt.

"You're not scared of heights, Ashley. This is nothing for you," she told herself, trying over and over to psych herself up.

But no matter how many times she repeated it, the fear didn't ease. Her legs were shaking even harder.

So much for what those so-called experts said! She cursed mentally, painfully aware that her arms were starting to go numb.

In a brief moment of distraction, she looked up-only to find he was no longer there. Her heart dropped.

She had to go-now!

No time to think, Ashley took a deep breath and started to slide down faster, eyes flicking downward for a better grip.

Just then, a flash of rage-filled eyes appeared around the corner-he was coming fast.

She gasped. That one second of panic made her grip slip. With no time to react, she lost hold completely and fell.

"Aah!"

The crash didn't come. Blinking in shock, Ashley found herself face-to-face with those same angry eyes.

Charles had caught her in his arms, holding her tight. The panic in his eyes faded-but now, it was pure fury.

"What the hell did I do that pushed you into risking your fear of heights just to leave me?"

Frozen in his arms, Ashley stared up, shocked. "Wait... how do you even know I'm scared of heights?"

The moment she said it, his lips thinned. His mood clearly didn't improve. Her heart sank a little, but she pressed on, almost at her wit's end.

"I told you-I don't know you! You've got the wrong person! How many times do I have to say it before you get it?"

"What's so great about that guy, anyway?" Rage flared in his voice-the thought of her pretending not to know him, just to marry someone like Lucas Cooper, made him boil with jealousy.

Family? Education? Looks? What was it that guy had he didn't?

"Don't you get it? It's not about Lucas being better. You just... got the wrong person, okay?!"

But Charles didn't want to hear any of it.

"Stop testing my patience just because I've spoiled you," he said coldly, pulling her tighter into his arms and striding back toward the room.

He didn't trust himself with her any longer. If this dragged on, he might just snap.

"Are you deaf or something?" Ashley thrashed in his arms, trying to break free, pounding her fists against his chest. "I'm not who you think I am!"

He ignored her completely.

Furious and helpless, Ashley yelled, "I don't know you! Can't understand English?"

Charles stayed silent, lips pressed in a firm line.

The bodyguards nearby were already sweating bullets. Anyone else pulling this kind of stunt? Their young master probably would've let them plunge straight into the ocean.

"Sir, lunch is ready." As Charles approached, George quickly stepped up, acting like he didn't notice the woman in his young master's arms punching and pinching him.

"Bring it to the room," Charles said flatly, loosening his hold on Ashley, then marched into the room with her in his arms.

"Behave yourself. Don't make me angry." He gently placed her on the bed and reached for her hand, worried the bedsheets might've scratched her palm.

But Ashley dodged.

The second her feet touched the ground again, she tried to dart past him for the door.

Her sudden move snapped that rare softness in him. Without much effort, he reached out and grabbed her back with one hand. "Still trying to run?"

"You might as well just kill me!"

Backed into the room again with the door blocked, Ashley's bright eyes flared with frustration, her cheeks flushed red with fury.

"You-" Charles clenched his jaw, all the patience and gentleness were buried deep inside, with anger ready to explode, when George's nervous voice called from the doorway, "Sir, lunch is here."

Charles took a deep breath, then another, forcing the anger down. "Serve Miss Carter."

"I'd rather starve than eat anything from you!"

"Oh yeah?" Charles didn't seem mad-instead, he smiled coldly. He yanked her back into his arms so that their bodies pressed together. "Well then, I don't mind feeding you by mouth."

"You... you wouldn't!" Ashley stared at him, speechless. Was he joking or seriously out of his mind?

"Bring the food over," Charles ordered without looking back, a cold smirk on his face.

The servant rushed the meal cart over.

He picked up a fork, stabbed a piece of foie gras and put it in his mouth. Seeing her eyes go wide in disbelief clearly amused him; the grin in his eyes deepened. He didn't chew, just held the bite as he slowly leaned in toward her.

Oh my god, he's actually doing it!

"Fine! I'll eat, okay?!" Ashley saw his face getting closer by the second. Panicked, she threw her hands between them and turned her head away.

Satisfied with her surrender, Charles finally stopped and straightened up.

"Keep an eye on her. I don't want to hear about her trying to run again," Charles told the nearby bodyguards, his tone sharp and no-nonsense.

"This is illegal detention! You can go to jail for this!" Ashley stared at him, shocked that he was still going through with keeping her locked up.

"Then let's see who's got the guts to put me in jail," Charles shot back before letting go of her and walking straight out of the room.

"Wait! Don't just leave! Let me go! What's the point of locking me up like this?" Ashley rushed forward, trying to catch up.

"Miss Carter, please stop right there," one of the guards stepped in, blocking her path politely but firmly.

"Your boss really got the wrong person! I swear I'm not who he's looking for!" Ashley raised her right hand as if taking an oath.

"Please don't make things difficult for us, Miss Carter." The guards bowed slightly and shut the door in her face.

Seriously? Is there no one here who's capable of having a normal conversation?

She turned around with a heavy sigh, staring at the now closed door.

"Miss Carter, your meal is ready." George announced, his voice formal and emotionless.

Miss Carter this, Miss Carter that. One of these days, they're gonna drive her insane with all that politeness.

Even though every fiber of her being screamed not to, Ashley reluctantly walked over and picked up the fork. She wasn't about to wait till that jerk decided to feed her himself. Knowing him, he might actually do it.

"Hey... can I borrow your phone for a sec?" She looked up at George, trying her luck.

"Sorry, Miss Carter. That's not something I'm allowed to do." George gave her an apologetic smile.

"I just remembered something urgent. It'll only take a minute, I swear!" She pressed on, unwilling to give up so quickly.

"Then I shall inform the young master. You may tell him directly," George replied, already turning to leave.

"Wait!" Ashley panicked. Bringing that guy back was the last thing she wanted. "Actually, never mind. It's not that urgent anymore. No need to bother him."

"As you wish, Miss Carter. Please enjoy your meal." George resumed his butler stance.

So much for the rescue mission. Ashley lowered her head in frustration, turning her attention back to the food on the table.

The dishes looked and smelled amazing, no doubt... but they tasted like nothing to her.

Huh... the fork?She glanced at the fork in her hand, and a sudden idea popped into her head.

It was already past nine when Charles finally wrapped up work and returned to the villa.

As soon as he got back, he asked about Ashley's situation that afternoon. After George's report, he gave a small nod of approval.

While they talked, Charles had already arrived outside Ashley's room.

He waved George off, and the latter bowed slightly before turning to leave.

Inside, hearing the click of the doorknob turning, Ashley instinctively tensed up by the door, tightening her grip around the utensil in her hand. Her palms were sweating, and her hands kept trembling-this was her first time doing anything like this.

With a muffled "click," the door opened from the outside, and Charles stepped in.

"Don't move!" Ashley jumped out from beside the door, hands trembling as she pointed a dinner fork straight at his stomach.

She had originally aimed for his neck-artery and all-but well, the height gap was... not in her favor.

"Sir!" The guards stationed at the door instantly rushed in, surrounding her.

"Stay back! One more step and your boss might not walk out of here alive!" Ashley yelled, pretending like she might stab him at any moment, though her hand shook visibly.

The guards hesitated, looking ready to tackle her.

"Leave," Charles said coldly, tone sharp.

"But sir..." The guards didn't dare budge, eyes still locked on Ashley's fork.

"Did I stutter? Get out." He didn't even spare them a glance; his full attention was on the woman before him. It should've been just another day, but somehow, the way she tried to kill him... made his chest ache a little.

"Yes, sir." They exchanged a few uncertain glances before stepping out, clearly uneasy.

"You going to kill me now?" Alone with her, Charles angled his head toward Ashley, eyes dark and unreadable, so intense it made her almost drop the fork on the spot.

"I didn't want this... You pushed me into it..." She shook her head as she spoke, voice cracking with emotion. Even though her knees felt weak from fear, she forced herself to appear tough, blurting out, "If you've got any sense, let me go now... or I won't be the one held responsible for what this fork might do."

Charles shut his eyes tight for a moment, then suddenly took a step forward. The move startled Ashley-she gasped, eyes wide. That fork in her hand almost jabbed into his stomach. She screamed and stumbled back, panic written all over her face. "You-you..."

"With that shaky hand, you think you can really kill me?" His voice was calm, almost bored. He stepped closer, crowding her backward until-bam-she hit the wall, hard.

He towered over her, trapping her between his chest and the wall. Looking down at the top of her head, his voice lowered with subtle amusement and something darker. "Want me to show you how it's done?"

"No need!" Ashley shrank in on herself, trying to sound fierce but it came out weak and panicked. "You better let me go right now or you'll see blood! Knife bloody in-no, wait-clean in, bloody out-ugh, whatever!"

She looked like she was going to cry from her own idiotic mix-up. Ugh! She wasn't trying to be a joke, seriously-it was just nerves!

Trying to pull herself together, she forced a straight face. "Look, this knife doesn't care who it stabs. If you get hurt, don't say I didn't warn you!"

"Really?" He let out a low chuckle, all patience gone. In one swift move, Charles grabbed her wrist, easily twisting her arm until the fork slipped from her grasp.

She barely had time to blink. Just like that-boom-he had her. For real? That fast? Couldn't she have at least gotten one hit in?

"I wasn't ready this time," she snapped back, trying to save face. "But if you keep me locked up here, sooner or later, I'll find a way to kill you!"

"You want me dead that badly?" Charles narrowed his eyes, grip tightening just a bit on her wrist.

"I'd kill you right now if I could!"

"Go ahead then. Be my guest," he said flatly. He reached over and grabbed a small fruit knife from the table, swapping it with the fork in her hand. "Take this-easier to get the job done."

Ashley stared, completely baffled. "What is this supposed to mean?"

He didn't say anything. Just took her hand, now holding the knife, and pressed the blade right over his heart.

"Just aim here. One good push-and you're free."