Chapter 4 He, Mr. Ethan?”
Emily was still busy preparing breakfast for the man she believed to be her husband.
“Sir, would you like toast or fried potatoes?” Emily asked.
“Anything is fine,” the fat man replied nervously. His eyes kept darting toward Arthur.
Meanwhile, Arthur stood casually near the dining table, quietly enjoying the spectacle of the two strange couples that was oddly entertaining to him.
“Miss, please prepare breakfast for Sir, I mean, for the bodyguard!” the fat man ordered.
“Why should I serve your bodyguard? That’s strange,” Emily protested.
“But, Miss!” the fat man objected.
“Mr. Ethan, you should just sit down and eat. Let your bodyguard eat by himself,” Emily continued.
The fat man looked anxious. His face turned pale, cold sweat forming at his temples as he repeatedly glanced at Arthur.
“Oh God, please don’t let Mr. Ethan eat me alive,” he thought.
The moment Emily saw Arthur sit down calmly, she turned her sharp gaze toward him.
“Hey, you bodyguard!” she snapped. “Who told you to sit at the dining table?”
The atmosphere instantly froze. The servants exchanged glances, their faces paling, breath held.
“Miss, he!” one of the servants tried to explain.
Arthur slowly raised his hand, signaling the servant to stop. He then stood up calmly, his movements unhurried.
“Very well, Miss Emily,” he said flatly. “Please continue.”
The fat man jumped to his feet, his body trembling. “Sir, please forgive me,” he said with a shaking voice, bowing deeply.
“Sir?” Emily murmured in shock.
Arthur’s gaze turned cold, sharp like an arrow. There was no excessive anger only a firm authority that made anyone feel insignificant before him.
“My husband, why are you calling your bodyguard ‘Sir’?” Emily asked.
“He …”
Arthur stepped forward, stood behind the man, and firmly gripped his shoulder before whispering, “Mr. Ethan, please sit down. And enjoy this breakfast calmly.”
“Ah, yes,” the fat man replied nervously.
He immediately sat back down, his hands trembling as he held the spoon.
Emily looked on in confusion, noticing the sudden change in her husband and the drastic shift in the servants’ expressions.
“My husband, what’s going on?” she asked innocently, unaware that she had been standing right in front of the most feared man in the room all along.
The fat man almost screamed. His face grew even paler, his breathing uneven, cold sweat soaking his neck.
“Oh God, Miss, realize it already. I’m not Mr. Ethan,” he panicked inwardly, but his lips dared not utter a single word.
Emily simply smiled faintly, completely unaware of the chaos she was creating.
“Come on, finish your breakfast, Sir,” she said lightly as she placed meat onto his plate. “Let your bodyguard eat with the other servants.”
Her innocent words made several servants hold their breath. Some lowered their heads, others exchanged tense glances. None of them dared to move.
Arthur smiled faintly again calm, yet containing something that made anyone’s heart race. It was precisely that relaxed attitude that frightened the servants even more.
Normally, the man never forgave even the smallest mistake. Yet this morning, he allowed everything to happen and that was far more terrifying.
After breakfast ended, Emily still clung to the fat man’s arm, as if she truly believed he was her husband.
“Miss, let go!” the fat man said, his tone sounding both annoyed and pressured.
Emily turned, studying the man’s face more closely. For the first time, she truly noticed it there was no cruel gaze, no intimidating aura. Instead, he looked nervous, awkward, even frightened.
Slowly, Emily released her grip, her gaze unconsciously shifting elsewhere.
Toward Arthur.
The man stood not far from them, his posture upright, expression calm, yet his eyes cold and sharp. Simply by standing there, he made the room feel smaller.
Emily swallowed hard, nervous. Now she understood. It wasn’t the fat man who was frightening not him who made her breath hitch. It was Arthur, the bodyguard, who was truly dangerous.
“Why does Arthur seem to be the one holding control in this house?” Emily thought.
And for some reason, it was his presence that made her heart pound uncontrollably.
When Emily looked at Arthur without realizing it, his brow furrowed slightly, his gaze teasing, as if silently challenging her.
That look made Emily’s chest warm and irritated at the same time. “Damn it,” she cursed inwardly. “How dare that bodyguard look at me like that especially in front of my husband.”
Emily quickly looked away, trying to ignore the strange pounding in her chest. But the more she tried not to care, the clearer one thing became in her mind.
Arthur’s gaze was not that of an ordinary bodyguard it was the gaze of full possession.
The fat man finally stood up, his chair scraping softly. He could no longer endure Arthur’s sharp stare, a stare that oddly felt like suppressed anger or perhaps jealousy.
“Sir, where are you going?” Emily asked spontaneously.
The man clicked his tongue in frustration, rubbing his face. “Disappearing from the face of the earth before I lose my life for real,” he replied shortly, then walked away without looking back.
Emily froze, staring at his back in confusion. “Why is he so strange?” she murmured.
Behind her, Arthur remained seated. His face returned to its cold calmness, as if nothing had happened. Yet his eyes followed every step the fat man took until he vanished from the dining room.
The dining room fell silent again. And somehow, in that silence, Emily felt a chill rise along her spine she was alone in the room with Arthur once more.
Emily hurriedly began clearing the untouched food, but her hands paused when the servants left the dining room one by one, leaving behind a heavy silence.
As she turned around, a hand caught her wrist.
“Miss, why didn’t you finish your meal?” Arthur asked calmly, though his tone carried an unexplainable pressure.
Emily turned quickly, nervous. “You can finish it. I want to look for my husband,” she said hurriedly, trying to pull her hand back.
Arthur did not release her. He stepped closer, close enough to make Emily feel pressed by his presence.
“Your husband is right in front of you,” Arthur said firmly. “Why are you looking for someone else?”
Emily’s heart pounded violently, as if it might leap out of her chest. “If you dare say such nonsense again,” she said with a trembling voice, “I will scream.”
Arthur leaned down slightly, his eyes darkening. “Go ahead,” he whispered coldly.
Emily fell silent. Her body tensed, her breath uneven. She couldn’t move, as if her courage was locked by his gaze.
“What’s wrong with me?” she thought in turmoil. “Why is my heart racing like this?”
Arthur stepped even closer, forcing Emily to unconsciously retreat until her back touched the edge of the dining table.
“What do you want?” Emily asked weakly, panic mixed into her voice. “Don’t do anything strange, my husband could kill you.”
Arthur looked at her for a long moment, then smiled faintly. “Believe me,” he said flatly, “no one in this house dares to kill me.”
“Oh really?” Emily shot back. “Aren’t you afraid my husband will shoot your head until it’s shattered?”
“Let him shoot,” Arthur replied coldly. “I’m not afraid. You saw it yourself the man you consider your husband just left you here alone with me.”
Gulp!
Emily swallowed hard. Arthur’s face drew closer. The distance between them seemed to vanish, making her breath catch in her throat.
She didn’t know what frightened her more the threat hidden in his eyes, or her own body’s reaction that she couldn’t understand.
Arthur reflexively pressed a kiss to Emily’s neck, slow and deliberate. The movement made Emily close her eyes.
“Ngh—” A soft sound escaped her lips unconsciously.
She clutched the edge of the table tightly, her fingers gripping hard as if it were her only support.
Yet her body stiffened, her thoughts spiraled, and her courage vanished.
“Arthur,” she murmured faintly.
Arthur stopped, creating distance between them once more. His gaze turned sharp, cold, and fully controlled.
Emily stood still, her chest rising and falling heavily. Despite the disappointment on her face, she quickly touched her neck as if to make sure she was still whole and conscious.
“You!” she began, unable to finish her sentence.
Arthur stared at her sharply, then said quietly, “Why? Are you disappointed that I stopped?”
