His Secret Under the Pillow

It was already 3 a.m. by the time I got myself out of the Graf Residence. I had no desire to go home, so I wandered into a bar and drowned myself in alcohol. When the liquor finally hit me, my mind drifted to Elliot.

The day he interviewed for the job happened to be my mother's death anniversary. Chloe had called it bad luck and tossed every photo of my mother into the pool. There were so many servants in that house, yet not one of them dared to help me.

Only Elliot had rolled up his sleeves, stepped straight into the water, and picked out the photos one by one.

My heart had skipped a beat at that very moment. But it wasn't until the day before that I learned it had all been staged. He hadn't gone into the water because he pitied me.

No, he did it to grab Chloe's attention.

It was Chloe's birthday the day before. My father had been determined to host a grand celebration for her, so he specifically ordered me not to come home. He was terrified that my presence would spoil her mood.

Elliot had taken leave early as well, claiming he had something important to handle.

That night, I had ended up in a bar just like this as I wasted away in a pool of alcohol-infused misery. On my way home, I accidentally walked into Elliot's room. Beneath his pillow, I found a camcorder containing several videos of him touching himself.

In the footage, the man who had always been composed and rational around me was aroused by nothing but a tiny scrap of lingerie. As he climaxed, I heard him say, "Chloe… I love you… I really love you…"

At the end of the video, a phone call between him and the butler played.

"Mr. Zeller, how long are you planning to keep up this assistant game? Your parents have urged you countless times to return home and inherit the family business. If you keep stalling, your father will truly lose his temper.

"And you're the golden boy of Rivergate. Women throw themselves at you. You can have any woman you want. Why obsess over the adopted daughter of a wannabe upper-class family?

"You're even going as far as creating an alias to work as her sister's assistant, just to get close to her. What exactly are you after?"

Elliot had taken off his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes heavy with lust yet soft with affection. "I can't help it. Chloe's very unguarded. I don't want to scare her."

"And Natalie Graf? Mr. Zeller, do you feel nothing for her?"

Elliot had frowned, disgust flashing across his face. "I do. She makes me sick."

When the video ended, I clutched my stomach and collapsed on the bathroom floor. I retched until my world spun before my eyes. My chest hurt so badly it felt like my heart was tearing apart. I forced myself upright and opened my eighth bottle of the night.

A sudden commotion jerked me out of my thoughts.

I turned my head and saw Elliot standing right there. He wore the standard black uniform. There wasn't even a hint of a wrinkle on him as even the top button of his white shirt was fastened perfectly.

"Ms. Graf, it's time to go home."

I drunkenly pushed myself up, swaying dangerously. Naturally, I accidentally missed a step and fell straight into his arms. Elliot immediately stepped back, expression tight. He looked as though he was terrified of having the slightest physical contact with me.

"Ow…" I hit the ground hard, scraping my knee.

He remained indifferent to my plight. He helped me up with his pristine white gloves, then tossed me onto the sofa without hesitation before hurrying toward the bathroom.

I knew exactly what he was doing. He was going to sanitize himself again.

In the five years he had followed me, he had gone through more than a thousand bottles of rubbing alcohol. When he touched my hand? Disinfect. When he entered my room? Disinfect.

It was even worse when he used his hand on me in bed because he would practically flee just to scrub his entire skin off afterward.

If I hadn't seen him touching himself to Chloe's photo that day, I honestly would have believed he had some kind of compulsive disorder.

There was a mocking twist to my lips. Yet, even that slight twist of my lips nearly made me sob.

…

Half an hour had passed by the time Elliot finally left the bathroom. His gloves were gone, and he reeked of disinfectant.

Left Behind

If I hadn't found out the truth, I would be raising hell out of sheer spite right about now. I would have clung to him and demanded that he carry me, forcing my scent all over him.

Now, as I noticed the wary look in Elliot's eyes, I merely wiped my face and turned away calmly. "Let's go."

Elliot froze for a moment, utterly caught off guard.

We stayed quiet on the drive home. He kept replying to someone's messages while I scrolled through the wedding-dress photos my father had sent me.

Just then, he blurted out, "Stop the car."

I turned, puzzled. He smoothly hid his phone and said shortly, "Something's come up. I need to make a trip to the south side of the city. Ms. Graf, you should take a cab back."

Rivergate was being hammered by heavy rain, and it was around 4 to 5 a.m. right now. The streets were absolutely desolate. I opened my mouth to refuse, but Elliot had already opened the door and shoved me outside.

The alcohol hit my system like a train wreck right then and there. I couldn't keep my balance, slipping straight into the muddy water like a drowned rat.

"Elliot!" I shouted, furious. Alas, he didn't even glance my way. Instead, he simply instructed the chauffeur to drive.

So, the car sped off through the storm, splashing a fresh wave of filthy water onto me. I stood alone in the downpour, abandoned by the whole world. There was no cab to hail, as none made their rounds here under such terrible weather. I ended up walking 3 miles home through the rain.

…

When I finally arrived at the villa, the lights were still on. Chloe was lounging comfortably on the sofa in her plush Gaul-imported pajamas, enjoying supper.

The most famous restaurant on the south side didn't offer delivery—only pick-up.

Elliot stood beside her, and every glance he gave her smoldered with restrained affection.

"Natalie, you're back!" Chloe set down her bowl and looped her arm through mine with practiced warmth. "Elliot bought supper for me. Come eat with us."

"Don't touch me." I pulled my arm back and stepped away in disgust.

She blinked, startled by my vehemence. Her eyes reddened instantly as she looked helplessly at Elliot. "Elliot… did I do something wrong?"

A flicker of pain crossed Elliot's gaze before he looked at me with barely masked aversion. Chloe looked pleased, her own expression turning shy as she glanced at him. "Elliot, my foot hurts a little. Can you carry me to my room?"

I saw his throat bob twice the second she made that request. Sure enough, his eyes had darkened behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

He swept her into his arms and headed upstairs in a few quick strides, even remembering to switch off the living-room lights as he went. I stood there dripping, swallowed by the dark.

…

After a long while, a bitter and hollow chuckle escaped my lips as I drifted back to my room like a ghost.

That night, I came down with a fever. In my delirium, I thought I smelled the disinfectant Elliot always carried. When I focused on the scent, I also caught the cloying sweetness of Chloe's perfume—the scent I hated with every fiber of my being.

Two days had passed by the time I could get up and about. There were only four days left before the wedding.

After washing up, I headed out to pick up a few things from the mall. The moment I stepped outside, Chloe oddly insisted on squeezing into my car. Elliot watched closely from the side. I ignored both of them and stared out at the passing scenery.

As we crossed an intersection, the car suddenly lurched out of control. The black Maybach shot straight off the Harborview Bridge.

Saltwater flooded my throat in an instant. The more I struggled, the more it hurt. Flashes of red blurred before my eyes—my own blood drifting in the water. I saw Elliot smash the car window and push Chloe upward, fighting to get her to the surface.

However, he didn't even turn around to save me, not even when the sea swallowed the last of my consciousness.

Ten Thousand Times

If I wasn't mistaken, this was the second time he'd abandoned me.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital room. My throat felt as if someone had pressed a hot iron to it since every breath I took felt painfully raw. The doctor said that I would've spent the rest of my life as a vegetable if I had been brought in for treatment even a second later.

After I took the medication, I drifted back under.

Somewhere in the haze, voices dragged me awake again.

I groggily saw Chloe curled in Elliot's arms, crying her heart out. "Elliot, it was all my fault. You abandoned Natalie to save me. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to her."

Elliot, who usually couldn't stand a speck of dirt on him, gently wiped her tears away as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

His voice even softened in a way I had never heard before. "Ms. Shelton, don't blame yourself. Even if I had to do it ten thousand times, I would still save you first."

"Really?" Chloe looked up at him, her eyes glassy with tears.

Elliot's gaze burned, the love in his eyes finally too overwhelming to hide. "Of course. Ms. Shelton, I lo—"

'Crash!'

The monitor hit the floor. Both of them jerked in shock.

Elliot spun around, his expression freezing when he saw how pale I was. "Ms. Graf, you're awa—"

"Get lost," I said quietly.

"What?" He stared at me like he couldn't believe what he'd heard.

I met his eyes without the slightest trace of warmth. "I want you and Chloe to get lost."

Chloe flinched, her brows knitting as her tears welled up once more. "Natalie…"

I picked up the vase beside me and smashed it on the ground, letting out a brittle laugh. "What are you waiting for? For me to kill you?"

She froze, her tears falling harder. She shot Elliot a wounded look before dashing down the hall.

He instinctively took a step after her, but stopped himself mid-stride. After a long moment, he let out a quiet sigh. "Ms. Graf, do you feel better now?"

I didn't answer him. I lay back down and shut my eyes.

There were only three days left before I married.

…

The next morning, I signed myself out of the hospital despite the doctor's protests. I was getting married the next day, so I needed to see Chloe's mother's grave moved with my own eyes—just like the year she forced my father to make me kneel to her dead mother's portrait.

My father never showed up when the digging started. He claimed he'd find it too painful. I found that strange because he'd been grinning like the festivities had come early when they dug up my mother's coffin all those years ago.

Chloe came running over halfway through the excavation. For the first time, she tore off her mask of innocence and glared at me with pure hatred. "Natalie Graf, you filthy wretch! Why aren't you dead yet?

"If I'd known you'd turn out this vicious, I wouldn't have stopped at killing your mother—I should've taken you with her!"

My mind exploded. "What did you just say?"

Chloe's smile was sweet and poisonous. "Do you know how stupid your mom was? When I pushed her down the stairs, she actually told me she didn't blame me and asked me to call an ambulance. Guess what I did. I stepped on her stomach and danced a little Swan Lake."

Something in me snapped clean through. I lunged at her like a feral animal, ready to make her pay for my mother and my baby sister, who never had a chance to be born.

Chloe instantly dropped to her knees, tears flowing on command. "Natalie, please, I'm begging you—spare my mom. Hit me, yell at me, do whatever you want. I'm begging you to let my mom rest. She's still your elder."

She cried as if her heart were splitting open, and every tear struck straight at Elliot's.

"Natalie, you witch!" Elliot charged toward me and shoved me hard. My head slammed against the tombstone, and everything went black.

Right before I lost consciousness, I was crazy enough to think I saw horror in his eyes.