The young man who had accompanied Old Mrs. Langford earlier led Poppy to a large, secluded building at the far end of the estate.
It was breathtaking, just like the other mansions in the estate, but Poppy thought it strange that it was completely isolated from the rest, and her heart thudded softly.
She didn't know if it was fear, anxiety, or both.
But she was certain she wasn't mentally prepared to be living with her ex-husband's uncle. The thought alone made her stomach twist.
What frightened her even more was the idea of performing wifely duties to him.
She swallowed hard as she stepped into the building after him.
A woman in her late forties approached them almost immediately. Her hair was neatly tied in a bun, and her face was calm but strict. She glanced briefly at Poppy before addressing the young man.
"Mr. Liam, what brings you here at this hour?"
"This is Mrs. Bella." Liam introduced shortly. "On Old Mrs. Langford's orders, she's to start living with her husband tonight."
The woman's eyes flickered back to Poppy before returning to him. "Understood. You can leave her to me, Mr. Liam."
He nodded. "Then I'll take my leave now."
Before turning away, he gave Poppy a polite but tight smile. "Welcome to the Langford Estate… Mrs. Langford."
The title sounded weird, almost mocking in Poppy's ears. All while she was married to James, no one addressed her this way. Still, "Thank you," she said.
When he left, "It's good to finally meet you, Mrs. Langford—" the woman said, but was interrupted quickly by Poppy.
"Please, call me Bella."
Her brows creased slightly. "In this household, we don't disregard titles, Mrs. Langford. You'll have to get used to it."
Poppy didn't like the idea, but, "Sure," she said.
"I'm Lydia, the head housekeeper. I'll show you around."
Poppy nodded and followed her.
"It's quite late, so most of the staff have gone home. The Young Master prefers privacy, and because of this, the servants only come during the day to handle their duties."
Poppy nodded. That explained the quietness. Still, something bothered her. "Is he around? Your Young Master, I mean."
"Yes, Mrs. Langford. He's home."
She frowned slightly. "Then… why didn't he come for dinner? Wasn't everyone supposed to be there?"
She had hoped to at least see his face, and study what kind of person he was over dinner before moving in with him, but he never showed up.
Lydia paused mid-step, and when she stared at Poppy, a glint of sympathy flashed in her eyes. It was clear she wasn't aware of the young master's condition.
She said quietly, keeping it short. "The Young Master has a mind of his own. There is no room for persuasion."
Some things were better left unsaid, she thought.
They stepped out of the elevator, and a young maid stood waiting close to it, her head bowed so low that her face was almost hidden. In her hands was a glass of warm milk.
Lydia stopped beside her. "It's been a long day, Mrs. Langford. It's too late for a proper tour, so I'll show you to your room instead."
She took the milk from the maid and handed it to Poppy. "Here. This should help you relax."
Poppy's instincts twitched immediately. Something about this whole arrangement felt… off. But refusing might cause trouble, so she forced a small smile and accepted the cup. "Thank you."
Lydia kept staring at her, so she took a small sip. It tasted normal.
To avoid suspicion, she drank a few more mouthfuls, then handed the cup back. The maid bowed and left immediately.
Lydia smiled and started walking. "The room ahead is yours. It's a suite, and you'll be staying there with—"
But her voice faded as Poppy's vision swayed slightly. The hallway tilted, and her fingers tightened around her bag as her knees wobbled.
Something wasn't right.
She blinked rapidly, trying to steady herself, but the dizziness only worsened.
It didn't take long for her to realize what had happened.
The milk was spiked!
Before Lydia could take another step, Poppy spun around and ran toward the door at the end of the hall. By some miracle, it wasn't locked. She rushed in and slammed it shut behind her, twisting the lock in place.
Drugging her could only mean one thing — they planned something. And in this isolated place, she was completely at their mercy.
But her body wasn't listening to her fear anymore. The heat spreading through her veins turned into fire. Her skin tingled, her cheeks burned, and her heartbeat grew erratic.
"Damn it…" she whispered, pressing her palm against the cool door. Her body felt too heavy, too hot.
Desperate for air, she stumbled deeper into the room to look for a window or maybe a balcony.
She pushed open another door and staggered inside.
But as she ran further into the dark room, her dizziness grew worse, and she tripped.
Poppy's heart skipped wildly as she fell, bracing to hit the floor. But instead of the hard ground, she landed on something else. It was soft beneath her palms, yet solid enough to knock the air from her lungs.
She tried to piece it together. There was a bed, and more...
Someone was beneath her!
The room was utterly silent when she came in, except for the rapid thump of her own heart, so she naturally didn't expect anyone to be here.
Panicked, she tried to push herself up, fighting the dizzy fog clouding her vision. But her hand landed on a bulge. It was hard… and warm.
Her fingers twitched instinctively, tracing the shape continuously before her sluggish mind caught up. And when it did, her breath stopped.
Her eyes widened.
Before she could move away, a shadow shifted beneath her. In the next second, she was flipped over, and her back sank into the mattress.
A strong hand caught both her wrists and pinned them above her head in one swift motion.
Poppy's heart somersaulted violently as she saw the tall, broad figure looming over her in the dark.
And when it leaned into her, she almost stopped breathing.
But once again, her fears got drowned as his firm body pressed against her. The warmth that emanated from his bare skin drove her insane.
Her body ignited even more like fire kissed her skin.
She involuntarily pressed her thighs together as she started feeling a sensation build down there.
And hell broke lose when he leaned into the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent.
She should've struggled to break free, but instead, she found herself yearning for his touch, a desire she hadn't felt in a long time.
It only took staring at her face for her body to betray her. Like a possessed woman, she leaned in and captured his lips.
Alaric didn't hold back. His lips were rough against hers as he explored every corner of her mouth like a hungry man.
And when his mouth moved down her neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her sensitive skin, Poppy whimpered.
Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as she felt her folds twitching.
She didn't even know when she moaned softly, or when his mouth moved further to the swell of her breasts, gently nipping on her already hardened nipples from the thin fabric of her dress.
And when she let out another moan, he swallowed it as his lips moved to her mouth once more.
One moment, she was clinging to him, desperate for his touch, and the next, like he could read her thoughts, his mouth explored to her lower body.
He placed a gentle kiss at her entrance, before hurriedly peeling off her underwear, gaining access to her insides.
Poppy cried out in pure ecstacy, but as his tongue continued pleasuring her, the heat overwhelmed her and her mind was unable to keep up.
Slowly, she lost consciousness.