As the morning light crept into the room, Arla reached out, finding the bed empty. Opening her eyes, she saw Zora, one of the mistresses from the previous day, standing in her room with her arms folded, staring at her.

"What are you doing in my room?" Arla asked, irritated. "Didn't anyone teach you about privacy?"

Zora replied coldly, "You've consummated your marriage. Don't expect Liam to return to your room. He belongs to Vivian now." Zora left the room before Arla could respond.

Arla, annoyed and confused, sat up in bed, muttering to herself, "They're crazy. What do they mean he won't come to our room? Isn't this our bedroom?" She got up, showered, and went to the dining hall, only to find it deserted.

Arla asked a maid for breakfast, but the maid informed her that breakfast time had passed. Annoyed, Arla retorted, "Do you want to lose your job? I said bring me breakfast!" The maid refused to budge.

Just then, Vivian entered the dining hall, wearing an elegant pink gown, her dark hair flowing like a fairy's, adorned with silver accessories.

The maid bowed and addressed Vivian as "Miss Vivian" before explaining the situation. Vivian asked about the commotion, while Arla confronted her, "Who the hell are you?"

Vivian examined Arla from head to toe, taking in her appearance. "Breakfast ends at 9:30 AM every day," Vivian stated. "You'll have to wait for lunch." She then dismissed the maid.

Arla, growing increasingly irritated, scoffed and retorted, "You really have no manners, do you?"

As Vivian locked eyes with Arla, Alice and Zora joined the tense scene, their disapproving glares piercing through Arla. They admonished her for daring to speak to their esteemed lady in such a disrespectful manner. Arla's confusion turned to defiance as she questioned their allegiance to Vivian.

Arla boldly stepped towards Vivian, her gaze scrutinizing every detail of her appearance. With unwavering resolve, Arla declared, "This is my husband's house, and I couldn't care less about your position within it! When I demand my breakfast, I shall have it! And that is the end of the discussion!"

Vivian, seemingly amused, let out a chuckle and dangled a set of keys provocatively before Arla's eyes. "tell me, how do you intend to secure your breakfast now?" she asked, her voice laced with challenge as she crossed her arms. "When entering a new household, it would be wise to attempt assimilation rather than inciting discord. Otherwise, be prepared to face the repercussions of your actions. I advise you not to test my patience," Vivian warned, her eyes unwavering as they bore into Arla's.

Arla scoffed and turned to Vivian, saying, "I guess they didn't tell you about how crazy I can be, right?"

Unfazed by Arla's remark, Vivian replied, "I don't care if you're psychotic. In this house, I make the rules, and no one has ever dared to go against me."

Arla stared at Vivian defiantly and challenged her, "What will you do if I go against you, huh?"

Vivian's eyes narrowed as she met Arla's defiant gaze, her expression hardening as she considered the challenge. The tension in the room was palpable as the two women faced off, neither one willing to back down.

"You don't want to find out," Vivian finally replied, her voice low and dangerous.

Arla, however, refused to be intimidated. She had never been one to shy away from conflict, and she wasn't about to start now. "Try me," she dared, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

Vivian took a step closer, her eyes locked on Arla's. "If you think you can come into my house and disrupt the order I've established, you're sorely mistaken," she warned. "I've dealt with far worse than the likes of you, and I've always come out on top."

Arla folded her arms across her chest, feigning boredom. "All I hear is talk," she taunted. "If you're as tough as you claim, prove it."

Vivian's lips curled into a wicked smile as she considered her next move. "Very well," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "If you need proof, I'll gladly provide it." With that, she turned and walked away, Zora following close behind like a loyal subject.

Just then, a woman named Jane, one of Liam's many mistresses, emerged from the hallway. She approached Arla with a word of caution: "You should keep a low profile. She's not someone you want to cross."

Arla frowned, her gaze defiant. "I'd like to see what she's capable of," she retorted, her voice laced with challenge. Without another word, she stormed out of the dining hall, her anger robbing her of any appetite.

That night, as the moon rose high in the sky, Liam's absence from Arla's room was conspicuous. Instead, the sound of moans echoed through the hallway, growing louder with each passing moment. At first, Arla sat up in bed, straining her ears to make sure she wasn't mistaken.

But the sound persisted, prompting her to rise from her bed and approach the door. As she opened it, the moans grew louder still, guiding her toward their source. Frowning, Arla followed the noise until she found herself standing in front of Vivian's room.

Hesitantly, she turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The sight that greeted her was one she would never forget: Vivian and Liam, locked in a passionate embrace, their naked bodies entwined in the dimly lit room.

Arla froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to process the scene before her. Just then, Vivian looked up, feigning shock as if she hadn't intentionally been making loud moaning sounds mere moments ago, clearly intending to wake the entire household.

Liam's cold voice shattered the silence. "Get out," he commanded, his tone devoid of emotion.

Arla bit her lower lip, her whispered "son of a bitch" hanging in the air as she fled the room, the image of their betrayal seared into her mind. She ran back to her own room, locking the door behind her as she desperately tried to make sense of what she had just witnessed.

Her hands trembling, she ran them through her hair, her eyes darting left and right as if searching for answers. "What's happening?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What did I just witness?"

Her body shaking, Arla climbed into bed, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

As Vivian attempted to reignite their intimacy after Arla's departure, Liam pushed her away and quickly dressed, his movements sharp and efficient. Vivian drew the blanket over herself, her eyes fixed on Liam as he moved about the room. "Where are you going?" she inquired.

Liam met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "I have business to attend to," he stated coolly, his words carrying a finality that caught Vivian off-guard.

As he strode out of the room, Vivian could only watch in stunned silence. This was a side of Liam she had never seen before, and she found herself grappling with the sudden shift in his demeanor. Clutching the bedding in a tight fist, she struggled to understand what could be so important that he would leave her in the middle of the night without explanation.

The night air carried a chill as Liam's footsteps echoed in the hallway, Vivian was left alone in the bedroom, her mind racing as she attempted to make sense of the unexpected turn of events. The tension that had simmered between them all night had now reached a boiling point.

Liam entered Arla's room to find her clutching her bed covers, her knuckles white with tension. He stood at the doorway, one hand tucked casually in his pocket, and fixed her with a steely gaze. "Next time, don't wander into people's rooms uninvited," he said, his voice cool and collected.

Arla's eyes flashed with anger as she locked eyes with him. "Is marriage a joke to you?" she retorted, her voice shaking with emotion.

Liam took a step toward her, his presence commanding and unyielding. "What makes you think that?" he challenged, his tone unreadable.

Arla rose from the bed, her fury evident in every tense line of her body. "I left that old man's house because I was tired of his reckless ways," she began, her voice dripping with scorn. "Only to marry his exact type."

Liam's eyes darkened as he moved closer to Arla, his gaze never wavering. "What did you just say?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Arla matched his gaze with a fierce glare. "Why did you marry me?" she demanded, her words hanging in the air between them.

Liam's lips curled into a humorless smile as he closed the distance between them. "Don't ask the obvious," he said, his voice a mere whisper. "What were you expecting – that I'd love you?" He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her skin. "I don't do love," he confessed, his words heavy with implication. "I only do women."

Arla recoiled from his touch, a mixture of disgust and anger etched on her face. "You are a psychopath," she spat, her voice laced with contempt. "You have no respect for marriage or women!" Before she could continue her tirade, Liam lifted her effortlessly off the ground, her legs kicking futilely in mid-air.

"What are you doing?" Arla cried, her fists pounding against Liam's chest as she struggled to free herself from his grasp. But her efforts were in vain. Liam was a well-built man, and she felt as insignificant as a fly in his powerful hands.

"Put me down right now!" Arla demanded, her eyes blazing with fury as Liam held her in his arms. He complied, dropping her onto the bed with a thud.

"Didn't you interrupt because you were expecting something?" he asked, his voice laced with challenge.

Arla scoffed, her disgust evident. "Get your dirty hands off me," she spat, her words dripping with venom. "If you think I'm going to let you use the same hands you used on that bitch on me, then just kill me!"

Liam's eyes darkened as he grabbed her, dragging her toward the washroom. Arla struggled against his iron grip, her protests falling on deaf ears. "Let go of me! What are you doing? Let me go!" she cried, her voice tinged with fear and anger.

Ignoring her pleas, Liam pulled her into the shower and turned on the water. Arla flinched as the cold spray hit her skin. "It's cold! What are you doing?" she demanded, shivering under the icy stream. Liam's lips quirked into a humorless smile as he adjusted the temperature, the water warming under his touch.

As the water cascaded over them, Liam's voice took on a seductive edge. "Still cold?" he asked, his eyes locked on hers.

Arla's silver pajamas clung to her body, accentuating every curve and revealing her skin beneath the soaked fabric. Her nipples hardened, and Liam couldn't help but be mesmerized by the sight before him.

His gaze roamed over her, taking in her stunning features. With his right hand, Liam ran his fingers through his hair, his muscles flexing under the shower's spray. Arla found herself captivated by his raw masculinity, unable to deny his magnetic allure.

Swallowing hard, she tore her gaze from his, her tone shifting to one of unwavering determination. "Let go of my hands right now," she demanded, her eyes locked on his.

Liam pulled her closer, their chests pressed together as he whispered in her ear, "You didn't want dirty hands touching you, but I'm clean now."

His words sent a shiver down her spine, the intensity of the moment palpable as they stood in the shower, their bodies slick with water and desire.

Arla pushed Liam away, her wet hair clinging to her face as she glared at him. "I won't let a cheating, un remorseful son of a bitch touch me ever again," she declared, her voice trembling with fury. "You won't touch me."

She made a move to walk away, but Liam's strong arms encircled her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He turned her to face him, his gaze intense and unwavering. "I always get what I want," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "And what I want right now is you. What you think doesn't matter, so do my bidding."

Arla's hand flew up to strike him, but Liam was quicker. He captured her wrist in his left hand and pinned her against the shower wall, the water streaming over them both. Before she could protest, he forced his lips onto hers, kissing her with a violent passion that left her breathless.

Their bodies pressed together under the cascading water, the tension between them palpable. Arla struggled against Liam's iron grip, but he held her firmly in place, his desire for her evident in every movement. The forcefulness of his kiss sent a shockwave through her, stirring a mix of anger and arousal that left her reeling.

As the shower continued to rain down upon them, Arla found herself surrendering to the intensity of the moment, her body responding to Liam's touch despite her best efforts to resist.

espite the fury that had fueled their confrontation, the raw intensity of Liam's kiss ignited a fire within Arla that she couldn't ignore. Her body betrayed her resolve, responding to his touch with a hunger that matched his own. The water cascaded over their entangled forms, washing away the last remnants of restraint as they surrendered to the passion that consumed them.

Liam's hands roamed over Arla's body, his touch both possessive and reverent. His lips left a trail of fire along her neck, eliciting a moan from deep within her. Arla's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she gave herself over to the sensations that threatened to overwhelm her.

He pressed his mouth against her neck, kissing her softly while his tongue danced over her sensitive skin. With a sudden tug, he yanked at her dress collar, the fabric yielding and tearing with a delightful rip. Arla’s mouth curved into a pouted smile of pleasure as her fingers tangled deep in his hair. Slowly, he guided his middle finger down and slipped it gently beneath her gown. Arla arched her back, throwing her head back as her grip on his hair tightened. “God, yes. Keep going,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire. He chuckled as he rose to his feet, his gaze locking onto hers, her face radiating bliss. “I want you,” he admitted, panting. Arla met his gaze, her eyes saying, I know. He rolled her onto her back and slipped inside her. After the first thrust, he had to pause, acutely aware that if he surrendered to the exquisite tightness and overwhelming heat, he would lose himself completely. The warmth of the fire pressed against her back as a hand seized one of her breasts. Arla moaned, tilting her head back to offer him better access. His hands gripped her waist firmly before exploring further.

As they held onto each other, their bodies wet with water and desire, the lines between love and hate, pain and pleasure, began to blur and fade away. Afterward, as their breathing became calmer and their hearts returned to a normal pace, the reality of their situation suddenly hit Arla like a wave. Embarrassed, she slapped him across the face and shouted, "GET OUT!" Liam's eyes darkened, but he didn’t say a word. He simply left the bathroom with his body dripping wet. After he left, Arla slid down to the floor and muttered to herself, "You want to play? Just so you know, I've been in this game for a long time." She then stood under the shower, letting the water flow freely over her body. Her face showed a mix of emotions, but there was a strong hint of determination behind her expression.