"What… what won't happen again?" she asked.
"I won't fuck you again."
"Again? When did you ever—f… you know—?"
Her tongue tripped over the word, and to her utter humiliation, his mouth twitched.
"How hard did you hit your head?" he murmured.
"I was shoved down the stairs by your girlfriend," she shot back, chin lifting, "so yeah, pretty damn hard."
"I don't have a girlfriend."
"Great. Then can I go home now?"
"You're not going anywhere."
"What?"
"This little plot of yours—whatever game you and your mother think you're playing—isn't going to work. You'll stay here until I'm absolutely sure you're not pregnant."
"Why does everyone keep saying that? I am not pregnant!" Sera yelled.
"Then you're trying to get pregnant. Why else would you prop yourself up with pillows? You want my swimmers to hit the spot?"
"What the—how would your swimmers even get inside me?" she sputtered, face flushing hot. "Mrs. Blackwood tricked me into that position!"
"Of all the women in town," he drawled, "my mum brought me the crazy one."
"Who are you calling crazy?"
"You," he said simply, pointing at her with an infuriatingly calm expression. "Do you even know who I am?"
"Oh, please," she snapped. "I know exactly who you are. I'm just tired. Tired of being abused since the moment I stepped into this godforsaken house. You've tried to rape me, I've been lied about, shoved, slapped, tied down—so no, I'm done pretending to be polite because you're a Blackwood."
"I tried to rape you?" he said slowly. "that's what you are going with?"
"Yes!" she snapped. "You—"
"Will you stop screaming?" he growled.
"How else am I supposed to be heard? No one is listening to me!"
"I am listening," he said finally.
Across from him, Sera stood stiffly. "My mum supplies eggs to the Blackwood estate," she began carefully. "She's been doing it since before I was born."
"Yes, I know Mrs. Hart. Didn't know she had a daughter."
"She had a little accident and hasn't been able to walk properly," Sera continued. "So she sent me to inform the butler to include the last payment — and the next — and transfer it directly to her. We… needed the money." Her throat tightened around the confession, but she pushed on. "She told me not to enter the house."
"Why didn't she just call?"
"She tried," Sera said quietly. "All day yesterday. The line just kept cutting off."
"Yeah… the last storm messed up the estate's network service."
"When I came here," Sera said, "the maid answered the door. She was the one who assumed I was Miss Duvall and brought me straight to your room."
"And then you tried to…" she swallowed hard, "to rape me."
"So," he said slowly, "what you're saying is I tried?"
"I knocked you out with the lamp beside your bed."
Eric blinked. And then — to her utter horror — he laughed.
His head tipped back, eyes crinkling at the corners.
"You?" he said between breaths. "You knocked me out? See, I was buying your story, Sera, but now that little detail — that's where it all goes up in flames."
"You think I couldn't knock you out?"
"Oh, sweetheart," he said, still grinning as he took a step closer. "I am the strongest man you'll ever meet. And your story is that you hit me with a lamp to stop me from fucking you?"
"Y–yes!" she stammered. "You were beyond reason! I couldn't get through to you! You were muttering nonsense and then you just… passed out!"
"Oh, that's rich."
"I'm telling you the truth," she insisted.
The laughter faded from his face. He stopped right in front of her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him. His eyes softened, but only just.
"I want to believe you," he said quietly. "I really do. You seem… innocent."
He raked a hand through his hair and began pacing, his long strides agitated. "But my mum's shenanigans are getting more desperate by the day," he muttered. "And I fear this might be another one of her games."
"So you think I'm part of some family scheme?"
"Honestly?" He looked back at her, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You walked into my bedroom, called me a rapist, and claimed you took me down with a lamp. Forgive me if I'm skeptical."
"Please… I just want to go to my mum," she begged.
"She will be here soon," he said quietly. "Benedict went to fetch her already. But… you still aren't leaving. I cannot let you. I'm sorry."
The apology scraped against the edges of his control, and Sera's heart thudded erratically. He was dangerous, undeniably so. "Why?" she whispered.
"I just… can't." His hand lifted, motioning toward the plaster on her forehead. "Miss Duvall did that to you?"
"Yes."
Slowly, carefully, his fingers reached for the plaster, thumb brushing against the edge. The warmth of his touch lingered longer than it should have, sending an involuntary shiver through her. She didn't breathe, waiting for him to withdraw his hand, but his gaze held hers — steady, probing, and… different now.
"Have we met before?" he asked.
Sera blinked, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Again with the familiar stranger act. "No," she said, keeping her tone neutral, even as her pulse hammered erratically against her ribs.
"You just seem so… familiar," he murmured.
"Maybe I have one of those faces?" she offered, attempting lightness.
"Maybe." Then, abruptly, he snatched his hand away, leaving her skin tingling and exposed.
"You are free to move around the estate," he said stiffly, "but you cannot leave."
"You're keeping me here? Like a prisoner?"
"Think of it as… protection," he said, lips quirking into the faintest smirk.
"How long do I have to stay here?" she asked.
"I'm guessing a month," he replied smoothly, gaze sweeping over her in a way that lingered far too long to be purely formal. "We should be sure you're not pregnant by then."