Chapter 6 Feeling like I belong

“Ahhhhhhh!” I let out a muffled scream, before slumping back on the bed and staring at the ceiling like it had just betrayed me. “No. No, no, no!”

I was in this novel world for barely over a day—and I was already falling for Adrian?

What sort of nonsense plot twist was this?

I groaned, dragging the pillow over my face. “Snap out of it, girl. He’s hot, yes. But he’s also colder than the Arctic, emotionally unavailable, and… married to you, technically. This has all the makings of a disaster.”

But even as I mentally listed all the reasons why crushing on Adrian was a bad idea, my heart wouldn’t stop doing those annoying flutters.

Ugh.

Needing a distraction, I tossed the pillow aside and reached underneath it to pull out my ultimate treasure—The Ruthless Mafia King's Captive Bride. Yes. That was the name of the novel. Don’t judge me.

I flipped to the page I’d left off on. The tension between the mafia king and his kidnapped bride had just peaked, and he was seconds away from confessing his feelings in the most possessive, over-the-top, villain-meets-lover way possible.

I hugged the book, giggling softly. “This. This is where I belong.”

I kept reading… flipping page after page… the world around me disappearing as the story swallowed me whole. My eyes were burning, but I refused to stop. I was going to read until either I passed out or the mafia king finally kissed the heroine.

Apparently, fate chose neither.

Knock knock.

The sound echoed through the room like a gunshot. I jumped slightly, my heart pounding.

“Nooo,” I groaned, reluctantly pulling the book away from my face and tucking it under my pillow. “Don’t you people sleep?”

I got up and trudged to the door, still wearing my oversized nightshirt and with hair that could scare off intruders.

I cracked the door open and blinked at the person standing there. It was a maid—young, proper, dressed in a neat uniform and holding a clipboard like she was on a mission.

“Good morning, Mrs. Blackwell,” she said politely.

I blinked.

“Wait. Did you just say… morning?” I asked, voice raspy.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s 7:45 AM. The family is waiting for you downstairs for breakfast.”

Excuse me?

It’s what o’clock?

I didn’t even know when it got dark. I must’ve read through the entire night. In my world, I would’ve crashed at 2 AM, dragged myself to the hospital three hours late, and gotten scolded by my supervisor.

But now?

Now I had a maid waking me up for breakfast like I was royalty. Or a hostage. Could be both.

I groaned again and muttered a weak, “Okay.”

She bowed slightly and walked away.

Closing the door behind her, I dragged myself to the bathroom. The mirror greeted me with a full view of the crime scene that was my reflection.

My hair looked like a bird had fought and died in it.

Dark circles hung under my eyes like little bruises from book-induced exhaustion. My lips were dry, and my skin looked like it had lost all hydration overnight.

“This body is too weak for my reading lifestyle,” I mumbled, picking up the toothbrush.

After a quick brushing session, I pulled my hair into a messy bun, showered with one eye open, and changed into a simple cream-colored dress I found in the closet. It was soft, delicate, and made me look somewhat alive—despite the black bags under my eyes that refused to go away.

I descended the staircase like a zombie who had tried (and failed) to be human. As I reached the dining area, the sight before me made me slow down.

The family was gathered around a large table, a variety of breakfast dishes spread out in elegant display.

Helena sat at the head of the table, sipping her tea with regal elegance. Lucas and Damien were already seated, casually chatting. And of course—Adrian. Sitting tall, perfect posture, looking like he had slept a full ten hours and moisturized his soul.

I took a deep breath and walked in.

“Good morning… Mom,” I said to Helena, giving a small bow of my head.

She looked up and smiled warmly. “Good morning, dear.”

“Good morning,” I added, looking at Adrian.

He glanced at me, his gaze lingering for a second longer than expected, before he gave a slight nod.

“Morning,” he said softly.

I took the empty seat next to him, trying not to look like I was dying on the inside.

Lucas grinned as he scooped some eggs onto his plate. “Did you sleep at all last night?” he asked, his tone playful.

I froze mid-pour while reaching for the orange juice.

My face turned red faster than a microwaveable burrito.

I buried my face in my hands and groaned. “Is it that obvious?”

Damien chuckled. “I think the bags under your eyes are forming a union.”

“I got a little carried away,” I muttered.

“With what?” Helena asked curiously.

I hesitated for a beat before admitting, “Reading.”

Lucas let out a dramatic gasp. “You? Reading all night? You don’t say!”

I groaned again. “Don’t tease me. I found a novel I loved, and it sucked me in, okay?”

Adrian’s voice cut through the banter. “Was it one of the ones I had brought in?”

I glanced at him and nodded. “Yeah… the mafia one.”

He gave the tiniest smile.

Tiny.

Barely noticeable.

But it was there.

And for some reason, that made my heart do a backflip.

“Well,” Helena said, clearly pleased, “I’m glad you liked it. Reading is a good sign. It means you're feeling more at home.”

I looked at her, warmth bubbling in my chest.

I wasn’t sure if it was home exactly… but I wasn’t as scared anymore.

After breakfast, as I sipped tea and listened to the family’s conversation flow around me, I realized

something strange.

I didn’t feel out of place.

I felt… almost like I belonged.

And that terrified me more than anything.