I had learned how to use the rice cooker pretty quickly. Isabella had shown me the basics, the things every woman should know before getting married. Although I wasn’t interested in marriage, I didn’t have the heart to refuse her lessons when she insisted so warmly.

Cooking rice was as easy as 1, 2, 3, but since Leo gave me only thirty minutes to prepare his meal, I had to work quickly. I checked both the pantry and the fridge, looking for something I could make within the time frame.

After heating up some oil, I crushed a few cloves of garlic. When the oil was ready, I added the garlic to the pan, careful not to let it burn. Before it had a chance to scorch, I added the corned beef, stirring it until it was well mixed before cracking a couple of eggs into the pan.

Perfect.

Once I plated the dish, I topped it off with a few onion rings and set it on the table. I checked the time—still fifteen minutes to spare. I went back to the fridge and grabbed a can of spam, slicing it into even pieces while heating more oil. It didn’t take long before the spam was sizzling in the pan. I served it with the rice.

Leo’s fridge was stocked with drinks, so I grabbed two cans of pineapple juice and added them to the table. The food was ready. The table was set. But Leo still hadn’t shown up. Instead of waiting around, I helped myself.

“What are you doing, Isabella?”

I nearly spilled my food when he suddenly appeared.

“Eating,” I replied nonchalantly.

“What’s that? Where’s my meal?”

“This is our meal. Sit down and eat,” I told him firmly.

“It’s unhealthy!” he complained.

“Then I’ll eat it all myself. Wait a moment; I’ll make you something healthier.”

I returned to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for fruits and veggies. When I found a cucumber, I knew it would be perfect. I peeled it, sliced it to perfection, and added a little mayo. Simple, but effective.

“What is this?”

“Your dinner. It’s healthy,” I replied, placing the plate in front of him.

“Are you trying my patience?” he asked, his voice sharp.

“Shhh, be quiet while we’re eating,” I reminded him. It wasn’t good etiquette to complain about the food, something I had learned from living in tough conditions.

“I’m going to die because of you,” he grumbled.

“It’s a pity. If you die, I’ll have to find another employer,” I joked, though I couldn’t suppress a smile. Teasing him over the smallest things gave me a strange sense of joy.

Fuming, he snatched the plate with the spam and began eating. “Try cooking something different and tastier in the morning,” he ordered.

“Okay, boss!”

We somehow survived dinner without an all-out war. Leo was still furious, but I didn’t back down. I could tell he was frustrated, but it was hard to stop poking fun at him when he was so serious.

I thought I’d won.

After dinner, I was assigned the task of washing the dishes, while Leo retreated to the living room. I could hear the basketball game blaring from the TV, the volume so high it shook the walls. I couldn't believe that a man of thirty-two could act like such a child. His parents must have had their hands full raising him—he was so different from anyone I knew.

Once I finished with the dishes, I decided to approach him. He turned toward me with a look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place. Was it desire? Lust? I wasn’t sure.

“Why don’t you give me a back massage?” he suddenly asked.

For a moment, I thought he had lost his mind. I stared at him, waiting for him to laugh it off as a joke. But he didn’t. He looked calm, as if it were completely normal for him to ask his maid for a massage. What a tyrant!

“Why should I?” I asked, trying to hide my disbelief.

“Because I’m tired,” he said simply.

“Then go to bed, take a hot shower, and rest,” I suggested. A hot shower would help him relax, especially after whatever he had been up to with the brunette earlier.

I turned to leave, ignoring his request, but then he sighed heavily, looking completely drained.

“Fine,” I muttered.

He glanced up at me with a look of satisfaction, clearly pleased that I had given in. I promised myself it would be the last time. I walked over to him and began massaging his shoulders. They felt stiff beneath my fingers.

“Back massage,” he repeated impatiently.

“I don’t want to hurt your back, Leo.”

“Come on, Isabella. Stop being coy and just do it!”

“I said no. You should respect that,” I replied, pressing my fingers gently to his temple. He let out a low moan, the sound strangely familiar, like something I’d heard before.

It was the same sound he made when he was with a woman. The realization hit me, but I couldn’t let it show.

I stopped massaging his head, preparing to leave, but I couldn’t help the way my mind raced.

He looked at me like I had made a monumental mistake. “Did I tell you to stop?” he asked, his voice laced with irritation.

I was supposed to answer him, but once again, I found myself captivated by his jet-black hair. It was silky and smooth under my touch. Even though I had already stepped back, I could still smell the faint fragrance of his shampoo. What was wrong with me? Since the moment we arrived at his place, there was something about him I couldn’t ignore.

Okay. I needed to breathe, relax. Inhale, exhale. I repeated the process a few times, trying to regain my self-control. “I’m also tired,” I muttered, but as soon as I saw the way his eyes flicked up to meet mine, I regretted my words.

“Should I give you a massage as well?”

The way his gaze drifted over me made my skin crawl. Was I really living with a nymphomaniac? It terrified me, but I couldn’t let him smell my fear. “Never mind, Sebastian. A hot shower will do. Excuse me,” I said quickly, turning to leave.

“Stop right there!” he shouted, his voice startling.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Instead of responding, he started walking toward me. For a moment, a flash of fear gripped me—was he about to force himself on me? When he grabbed my wrists, I winced in pain. “Who do you think you are, Isabella? Why are you so arrogant?”

I avoided his piercing gaze. His brown eyes seemed to see right through me, as if reading every hidden thought, every secret I tried to bury. “Saying no isn’t arrogance, just so you know. You can’t demand things from me like that,” I snapped.

“Demand? Are you serious?” His voice was thick with disbelief.

“I’m serious. You’re trying to turn me into your sex slave!” I blurted out, the words escaping before I could stop them.

“A sex slave?” His laughter was almost mocking. “Why the hell would I need a sex slave?”

Before I could respond, he dragged me toward a room I recognized—where I’d caught him with a brunette earlier. I froze in shock.

“Who are they?” I asked, feeling my stomach twist with unease.

“My mistresses,” he replied nonchalantly, as though having multiple women around was perfectly normal, as if they were just casual acquaintances.

“W-what?” My voice faltered, struggling to process his words. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. He had how many women in this house?

“Now, tell me, Isabella,” he continued, his tone cool and demanding, “Do I need a sex slave?”

His question left me speechless. But even though I couldn’t find the right words, I couldn’t justify his actions either. I took a deep breath before facing him. “Maybe. Just because you have all these women here doesn’t mean you have the right to treat me like that.”

“God, you’re stubborn,” Sebastian muttered under his breath. One of the women in the room noticed us and waved at him, and the others followed suit.

“Be honest! Who are they?” I demanded, my patience wearing thin.

He narrowed his eyes, sensing my disbelief. “They’re mine. All of them,” he said, his tone that of someone claiming ownership over an object.

“Are you insane?” I shot back. “Are you some kind of sex addict?”

“Do you think I’m a sex maniac?” His tone had a bite to it now.

“What else am I supposed to think? Your actions speak for themselves!” I retorted, my anger bubbling over.

“They’re my stress relievers,” he said with a shrug, as if that explanation made perfect sense.

“Your stress relievers?” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “You talk like you’re the busiest man on the planet.”

“I am,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Whatever,” I muttered, barely containing my disgust.

“What’s your problem?” he snapped. “This is my life, and you’re just my maid. Whatever I do here is none of your business. Now, go to your room, get some rest, and make sure you do your job well in the morning.”

I was stunned. Never in my life had I been so insulted. Just a maid? How dare he look down on me like that? He had no idea who he was messing with. At that moment, I swore to myself that I would make his life a little more miserable.

“Sorry, I’m just being nosy,” I said with an air of feigned innocence.

“Never mind,” he muttered, though his eyes remained sharp. “If you’re worried about your safety, don’t be. I can assure you that you won’t become one of them,” he said coldly.

I bristled at the way he spoke, like he was dismissing me entirely. “What do you mean by that?” I asked, my voice low with suspicion.

“You’re not my type,” he said bluntly, but I didn’t believe him. He’d already complimented my appearance, said my legs were incredible. Physically, I knew he was attracted to me. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.

“Well, it’s a shame,” I said, meeting his gaze with a confident smirk. “Because you’re definitely my type.”

He grunted, clearly frustrated by my boldness. He could try to act superior to everyone else, but not to me. “By the way, Sebastian, can I borrow some of your clothes? I have nothing to wear tonight,” I asked, my voice casual, though the way he stared at me sent a chill down my spine.

On the second floor, there were two bedrooms, but only one was unlocked, while the other was bolted shut. Sebastian told me not to touch anything in his room and that I could leave once I had picked out some clothes.

I wandered into his closet, scanning his clothes as I pulled out a few t-shirts and long-sleeved shirts. The man was tall, and when I slipped on one of his t-shirts, it fell all the way down to my knees. The long sleeves were just as oversized. I grabbed three of his long-sleeves and three t-shirts, hoping they’d be enough for the next few days.

Just as I was about to leave, I hesitated. Something inside me urged me to check out his bathroom. It had both hot and cold water, just like I had hoped, and I was eager to take a shower and freshen up before I left. I locked the door behind me as I undressed and turned on the water.

The hot water poured over my body, soothing the tension and exhaustion. I indulged in Sebastian’s shower gel, telling myself it would probably be the first and last time I’d use it. I took my time washing my body, knowing the next few days would be all about staying on guard and keeping warm.

That man… what a nightmare.

When I finished showering, I wrapped myself in a towel and headed back to the room to change. But as I entered, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. “Oh my God!” I gasped in surprise.

Sebastian was standing in the middle of the room, his gaze falling on me in disbelief.