"Psst!"

"Why are you still standing there?"

"Do you still think I'm going to rape you?" Xav chuckled.

"Get into the bathroom! Now!" Xav ordered as he staggered into the bathroom, swinging the door open.

And there it was, a bathroom so enormous. It was the size of Anya's apartment. She stood there, her eyes bulging at the sight before her as she rooted to her spot; Xav released an exasperated sigh and raised his voice.

"Anya Smith! Are you deaf?!"

"I said come to the bathroom, now!"

"Me?"

"Go to the bathroom with you?!" Anya frowned, clearly displeased.

"Don't you have a brain? I ask you to scrub my back, so where should it be done? In the dining room? Or maybe..." Xav's mischievous laughter filled the air as he narrowed his eyes, eyeing Anya suspiciously.

"Maybe in bed??"

"Dream on, Anya Smith!" he chuckled.

" I wouldn't ask you to sleep with me even if you were the last girl in the entire galaxy. I'd rather die a virgin," Xavier chuckled, pursing Anya's lips.

With a heart eager to claw the man standing before her, she reluctantly followed him into the bathroom. Xav casually flopped down on the edge of the bathtub.

"A smaller towel to scrub my back. Take the olive oil over there. It's behind that glass cabinet; don't drop it because it's expensive!" Xav pointed towards the giant glass cabinet. Anya hesitated to say anything, just nodded, and finished this ridiculous task quickly.

Anya's fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles as she massaged the fragrant olive oil into Xavier's tanned back.

The room was filled with a quiet ambiance, broken only by their breathing. Xavier's muscles rippled beneath her touch, smooth and defined. The scent of the oil lingered in the air, mixing with the steam from the warm water that enveloped them.

"Massage properly!" Xavier's voice broke the tranquil atmosphere, dripping with annoyance. He not only demanded her hands on his back but also expected a proper massage.

Anya suppressed a sigh, her mind drifting away from the task. She had no interest in engaging in conversation with Xavier. She wanted this moment to be over, to escape the confines of this room that felt suffocating and oppressive.

***

Lost in her thoughts, Anya hadn't realized that Xavier had called out her name until it echoed in the tiled bathroom.

"Anya!"

"Hmmm..." she replied lazily, her voice laced with disinterest.

"I have asked you a question; can't you reply?"

"W-what question?"

"Where are you from? Can you tell me about yourself?"

The following question was met with silence as Anya remained immersed in her world.

Why should she care about sharing her life story with this man? She only existed in his world because he had saved her from a fate worse than death – ending up as an unidentified corpse on an autopsy table.

"I come from the countryside, that's all!" Anya finally spoke, her words carrying a sense of vulnerability.

"that's all, huh?!"

"Uhmm, yeah, that's all!"

"I am sure you won't be interested in hearing my boring life story. So let's forget it, okay?"

" I've finished scrubbing and cleaning your back. Now, please, let me leave," she pleaded.

"You're not planning to shower before me, are you?"

A smile played on Xavier's lips as he turned to face the girl standing behind him.

"Go, get some sleep."

" I'll need you tomorrow, early morning," he instructed, his voice softer, warmer. Anya responded with a lazy nod, a small flicker of relief washing over her.

As she prepared to exit, Anya voiced a small request, and her words tinged with hesitation.

"Can I wash my hands in this sink? I don't want to dirty all the doors with my greasy hands," she explained, her voice almost pleading.

"Of course," Xavier granted her permission. Rising from his seated position, he observed the girl standing before him, and he could see her body trembling ever so slightly.

Without turning to face him, Anya swiftly moved away, her steps quick and purposeful.

But just as she was about to leave the bathroom, Xavier's voice broke the silence once more.

"Thank you," he uttered, his words hanging in the air. Anya's gaze met his, and in that brief exchange, a flicker of attention passed between them.

"That's my job," she said.

At that moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of their shared experiences surrounding them.

***

Anya woke up from her sleep when Rimar's voice infiltrated her dreams, accompanied by a knock on her bedroom door. Rubbing her puffy eyes, she stood up and opened the door, still half-asleep.

"Poor girl, you better get ready. The young master is waiting for you!" screeched Rimar.

"Get ready? Right now?"

"Of course now, not tomorrow!" Rimar pushed Anya into the room, urging her to clean up.

Anya could only wonder where she was being taken.

"Aunt Rimar, where exactly is he taking me?" she asked. The older woman shook her head.

"I don't know. You should ask the young master,"

"If he's taking me away, who will clean all the toilets and bathrooms?" Anya pondered, exited the bathroom, and hurriedly took the maid uniform from the closet.

"Don't wear that!" Rimar screeched, making Paris, who was still asleep on her bed, jolted awake.

Anya glanced at Rimar curiously. "Why not?"

"The young master wants you to wear casual clothes," Rimar explained hurriedly. Anya was surprised - she didn't have any decent casual clothes.

When the debt collector "kidnapped" her, she didn't have a single piece of clothing. Not that she didn't have any decent clothes to wear.

"Hurry up, Anya! The young master will be here soon-"

"I don't have any clothes," Anya interrupted hurriedly.

"Come with me now! Why didn't you say so earlier?" Rimar pulled Anya along, quickly leading her to a building separate from the main building, where Anya's room was.

"I think Aurelia's clothes are enough for you," Rimar muttered absentmindedly, not caring about Anya's confused expression. Arriving in front of the pavilion building, Rimar swiftly opened the whitewashed wooden door.

"This is my room," Rimar said as she invited Anya to sit on a wooden chair.

"Sit down first. I'll get the clothes I left in Aurel's room," she said.

Not long after, Rimar returned to struggling with a large dark brown suitcase, which she dragged with difficulty. Witnessing this, Anya immediately got up and rushed to help her.

"Let me find the key to the suitcase. I think I left it in Aurel's room," Rimar said in a tone that Anya found strange.

However, the girl didn't dare voice her curiosity. While waiting for Rimar's return, her eyes wandered, observing every corner of the house decorated in pure white. Several tall wooden shelves adorned the walls, displaying neatly framed photographs. Curious, Anya was drawn towards them.

Standing before the wooden shelf, she paused momentarily, staring at the portraits of Rimar's youth. There were several photos featuring Rimar with her two young masters, as well as one portrait of an older woman with a beautiful girl who had long flowing hair—a girl with a charming smile.

"Is that Aurelia?" Anya pondered.

"It is! Now hurry up and choose a casual outfit that you think suits you. Hurry up and change. You don't want to keep the young master waiting longer, do you?" Rimar said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Auntie, are you crying?" Anya asked, confused.

"Crying? No, I just got dust in my eyes while looking for this," Rimar replied, handing over the suitcase key.

"Hurry up, there's no time to chat. You can use my room to change," Rimar explained.

Anya stood before the suitcase, slowly opened it, and began sorting through the clothes that suited her. To her surprise, the clothes inside were still very stylish and presentable.