The Miracle of You

‘Teach me a lesson?’ His words echoed in Camille’s head, and her irritation flared. ‘Who the hell does he think he is?’

But despite her anger, she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy.

There was something different about his words this time.

Was he planning something?

When she didn’t answer, Christian’s tone became dangerous. “I think I need to keep you locked as tight as possible in this little birdcage that you’re trapped in,” he said in a low voice. “Perhaps I have left the gate a little loose for a while.”

His words made no sense. “Stop calling me a caged bird, you psycho,” she snapped. “You may have successfully entangled me in your life for your own selfish benefit, but I’m free to say and do whatever I want, especially if it’s in response to injustice. Who are you to punish me and teach me a lesson? I have done nothing wrong to you!”

That last part was said on impulse, out of the anger and defensiveness in her heart, and it increased her hesitation even as the words left her mouth.

Because, of course, it wasn’t entirely true. She had done things behind his back quite a few times, though she had been careful not to make it too obvious.

Wait. Could it be…?

Had he found out about her secret plans? Had he found something crucial, a piece of evidence he could use to blackmail her?

As her mind raced, trying to figure out what the purpose of this “discussion” could be, her thoughts came to a screeching halt when Christian suddenly brushed his fingers against the skin of her cheek.

The touch was light, almost feathery, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“Huh. You really have no idea,” he said, a strange smile forming on his face. “But that’s okay. What bothers me, though, is that you think it was done by another man. You haven’t even considered the possibility, have you?”

“What?” She stared at him, trying to make sense of his words.

He sighed. “You know… I have no idea if you’re just pretending or if you’re really that oblivious. But either way…” He let go of her chin and cupped the side of her face, bringing their faces close together. The proximity bothered her a lot, but she endured it. “It boggles my mind how little you think of me, my dear Camie.”

As she gazed into his dark, fathomless eyes, a sudden, almost intrusive thought crossed Camille’s mind at that moment.

She had looked at this exact same face for years. Though she would rather not have, she had no choice but to meet him and talk to him more than she could bear.

But even with his arrogant personality, it did not change the fact that he was handsome. His gaze had an enigmatic quality to it, inviting mystery and elegance into the depths of his intense gaze.

His face was nothing to scoff at, looking as if it had been carved by the gods themselves. He was dashing in a roguish way, and when he looked at people sometimes with coldness and playfulness, it made his charm all the more irresistible.

Camille knew this and had noticed it from the beginning. There was no denying his allure. It was just a fact.

So even though their proximity made her uncomfortable at the moment, she had to admit that sometimes she could not help but stare at his face for a while. It was part of human nature, the fact that people were naturally attracted to beauty.

Well, most people. Which, unfortunately, included her.

Whenever she saw handsome and beautiful people, she couldn’t help but be mesmerized. It was an unconscious reaction.

Thinking about it now, she felt like it was a waste. Christian’s personality definitely ruined his good looks. If she’d been given a photo of him without the context of his personality, she might have thought it would be nice to be engaged or married to a man like that.

But the thing about beauty was that it could almost always be used to fool people. It was that effective. It was like the way commercials and beauty product models worked.

But for a moment… just for a brief moment… she wondered.

If she let herself go and decided to surrender and submit completely to Christian Callahan, what would become of her?

Would he really own her, touch her, make her his?

Was it the fact that she kept pushing him away that made him want to push her buttons even more?

Was it the fact that she resisted him every time that made him want to do whatever he wanted with her?

Camille thought about it and finally came to a conclusion.

‘Even though we’re like this right now… and even though we’re this close…’

‘…I don’t feel anything at all.’

Of course, she was slightly affected by their proximity. By how close he was, by how their breaths mingled, and by how ambiguous the atmosphere in his office became, with no one else around and the door firmly closed.

However, even though the situation felt precarious, she couldn’t feel any romantic attraction to him. She felt that no matter what he did to her, even if he pinned her to the desk and pressed his body against hers, her heart would not waver in the slightest.

And with that realization came an astonishing sense of calmness that made the fear within her fade into the background.

“Maybe if you fix your attitude, I might think differently about you,” she said, the words slipping from her lips without her having to think twice.

Only moments later, however, she regretted it, because Christian’s eyes suddenly lit up and he even looked a little pleased.

It was clear that he had deliberately misinterpreted the meaning of her words. It was as if he had been given a chance, and she did not like what this implication meant for a change in his intentions.

“That’s good to hear,” Christian said cheerfully, with a hint of pride in his voice that immediately made Camille’s walls go up. “Because I have good news for you.”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“What?” she said, blinking. That took her by surprise. “What is it?”

He reached out and started playing with stray strands of her hair, giving her that flippant smile.

“Hey, how’s your father doing?” he asked. “He hasn’t died of his illness yet, has he?”