Back at the brunch.
Alisha marveled at the spread laid out before her. Her mouth watered, and her hunger surged at the sight of the delicious delicacies on the table.
As soon as the food was served, Travis dismissed the servant—then chuckled when he saw Alisha already digging into the salad and roasted ribs.
"Looks like I need to take note of this."
Alisha looked up at him, confused.
"That my beauty loves food more than a handsome face," he sighed.
"Maybe I should turn myself into a beef rib just to get more attention."
Alisha nearly choked on her bite of rib steak, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
She had been starving and couldn't help herself from diving in—but the brat's comment made her want to lose her appetite for the ribs. Well... almost, she mused, taking another bite and chewing defiantly.
Then she froze.
He wasn't eating. He was just watching her—those greedy, lustful eyes fixed on her like she was the main course. Those disgusting eyes. She imagined jabbing them with a rib bone just to make them stop.
She sighed and kept eating, hoping he'd eventually get bored and look away—or better yet, start eating himself.
But he didn't.
He just kept staring, like she was the most captivating show he'd ever seen.
God, she couldn't take it anymore.
She slammed her utensils down and glared at him, eyes blazing.
"I'm sorry—do I have something on my face? Like a hideous pimple that is just screaming to be looked at that you cannot keep your gaze away for just a second! Oh my god, seriously can't you get anymore creepier"
Travis chuckled.
"Well, I can be more romantic if you want me to, babe. Just say the word, and I'll be anything you want."
He winked and blew her a kiss.
"Eww. I prefer the bratty version better. That way I can punch you to my heart's content if I feel like it," Alisha retorted.
"Especially for kidnapping me and dragging me to one of your fancy, spoiled-brat brunches. I'm sure the police are already looking for me, you know. I'm not the kind of girl who just disappears. So I hope you're ready to get your royal ass arrested."
Travis chuckled again.
"Me? Arrested? Please, beauty—don't make me laugh."
He took a sip of wine, then looked at her with a calm, unreadable gaze.
"I'm sure by now you've figured out that I'm not someone to mess with. Or at least, my uncle isn't. He dotes on me so much, he wouldn't let anything happen to me. Besides, my family is one of the most powerful aristocratic families in the country. They couldn't arrest me even if they wanted to."
Alisha felt her blood run cold.
She'd suspected he came from power, but she'd been playing along—trying to get under his skin, hoping he'd get annoyed and let her go. But now it was clear: he had no intention of releasing her anytime soon.
She needed to hear him out. Figure out what he wanted. Maybe—just maybe—she could charm her way out of this.
The thought made bile rise in her throat, but she swallowed it down.
She had to keep her cool.
Alisha took a deep breath.
"Okay, Mr. Travic... Travin... whatever your name is. I don't think you kidnapped me just to have this... uh... lovely brunch without a reason. So tell me—what is this all about? I'm a very impatient girl, and I don't like wasting my time on things like this. So, what do you want? Why did you do this, huh?"
Travis stayed silent for a moment, his eyes roaming over her.
Damn, he thought. She's beautiful. A real trophy.
He bet she tasted sweet—and he couldn't wait to find out.
But for the first time in his life, he wanted to act like a gentleman. He didn't know why, but whenever he looked at her, something inside him thudded wildly.
His heart.
The Morales were known for being heartless. They were raised to live without emotion, without remorse. To do what they wanted, when they wanted. That was the code.
But this girl... she made him different. She made him feel.
She made him do things he'd never done for any girl before. Normally, he'd trap them, use them, discard them—or worse, sell them to one of his uncle's underground prostitute rings if they were "useful."
But her?
She was different.
Not meek. Not boring. She was feisty. Bold. Fearless. Daring. She had a fire in her that made him want to touch it—let it consume him—just to feel the burn. He wanted to make her his. Completely.
'I guess Uncle Jethro was right', he thought. 'Love really can turn you into a fool. Make you do stupid things. But for her? If I have to be a brat, a scumbag, a jerkass—just to make her fall for me—then I will.'
He smiled and straightened in his seat.
"First of all, my name is Travis, not Travic or Travin. Travis. And second—you're right. I didn't bring you here just for a fancy brunch. I wanted to ask you something else."
He snapped his fingers.
Immediately, a servant entered the room carrying a tray. On it sat a large bouquet of white roses and a white velvet box.
Alisha gasped as the tray was placed in front of her. Her eyes narrowed at the velvet box.
'He better not be proposing', she thought. 'Because I will gladly throw this bouquet at his face, unleash Lefty and storm out of here, and deal with the consequences later.'
"Well? Aren't you going to open it?" Travis asked, noticing her hesitation.
"Don't worry, beauty. It's not what you think. Well... at least not yet."
Alisha sighed, picked up the velvet box, and glanced at him before opening it.
Inside was a breathtaking pink, heart-shaped diamond necklace with matching earrings. They shimmered with a soft glow, and when she brushed her fingers over them, she was surprised—they weren't cold and rough, but smooth and slightly warm.
She looked up—and jumped.
Travis was standing beside her, holding the bouquet of white roses.
He smiled.
"Miss Alisha, will you be my partner for the Summerfest dance tomorrow... and also my girlfriend?"
He leaned forward, offering her the flowers.
Alisha was stunned.
It was a sweet gesture—unexpectedly tender—but it was also a request she couldn't accept. Her heart already pulsed for someone else. They weren't official yet, but she felt they were getting close.
Even if this spoiled rich brat had fallen for her, he was bound for disappointment. She had no interest in being tangled in his world—a world that was clearly powerful, and dangerously lawless. She didn't want any part of that chaos.
Alisha took a deep breath, ready to respond—
But just then, Mrs. McCoy entered the room and cleared her throat.
"Young Master Morales."
Travis turned.
"Yes, Mrs. McCoy? What is it?"
"I'm here to inform you that the man of the house—Master Alexander Morales—is here," she said.
Travis bolted upright.
"What! Uncle X is here? Fuck...! I thought he was still out hunting for his Black Tulip after he disappeared. I didn't think he'd be back so soon!"
He turned to face Alisha—who now looked ghost-pale, her expression frozen in horror.
She had just realized where she was.
Exactly where she feared.
And this brat... was related to the monster from her nightmares.
'How did I get so unlucky?'
"Well, beauty," Travis said, trying to keep his cool, "I guess it's time for you to go. I really wanted this meeting to last all day, but I guess it'll have to wait."
He turned to Mrs. McCoy.
"Please escort the lady to the car and have one of the drivers take her back to her house."
Mrs. McCoy nodded and stepped forward.
"I'll see you tomorrow at the dance, my beauty. I can't wait to share the night with you."
He picked up the velvet box and gently placed it in her hand.
"I'd love to see you wearing this tomorrow night. It would really make me happy."
He gave Mrs. McCoy a final nod.
"Come on, Miss. I'll escort you to the car," Mrs. McCoy said softly.
Without hesitation, Alisha stood and followed her.
The sooner I get out of here, the better.
However—
"And where do you think you're going?"
Alisha froze.
A deep, husky voice echoed from behind her.
Mrs. McCoy halted as well and turned, bowing slightly.
Alisha remained rooted to the spot, still facing the exit. She considered sprinting—but quickly realized that would be a terrible idea.
"Uncle Xander... you're here," she heard Travis stammer behind her.
"I thought you were still on your business trip. I didn't expect you back so soon."
A long, suffocating silence followed.
Alisha felt sweat bead down her back.
'Oh God. She was done for. Please, brat—do something. Get this under control.'
"My business trip was cut short," the deep voice replied.
"And it's a good thing, too. Otherwise, I wouldn't have witnessed this... spectacle—my house turned into some sloppy fairytale movie set."
He scoffed.
"Have you lost your balls, nephew? What kind of madness is this? Are you a Morales or a Snobby Joe? You know how we do things. We like our goods on the rough side. And you—"
He turned to Mrs. McCoy.
"I thought I told you to keep things under control in my absence. Not to support this madness."
Mrs. McCoy bowed her head.
"My apologies, Master."
Mr. X huffed.
"It's fine. Just get the bitch locked up in the discipline room. I'll deal with her later."
Alisha's blood ran cold.
Her world tilted.
This was bad. Really bad.
"But Uncle X, you can't do that! She's my goods. She belongs to me—I claimed her first!" Travis retorted.
"Oh yeah?" Mr. X stepped toward him, leaning in close.
"Then fuck her. Prove you're a true Morales. Fuck her—or I'll gladly do it for you."
Alisha gasped and collapsed to the floor, heaving for breath.
I'm done for. It's all over. It's all over.
Travis looked at her, then turned to his uncle, panic rising in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, to plead—
"I'm sorry, Master," Mrs. McCoy interrupted, her voice calm but firm.
"But I don't think it's wise to have this young lady as one of the goods."
Mr. X turned to her.
"Oh yeah? And why is that?"
"Have you forgotten the rules? Only an unpure woman can be used to spread the cause. And I've seen this young woman—she's 100% pure. Without the Black Tulip, how will you counter the damage?"
She paused.
"Please, let the girl go. She's already agreed to be Young Master Travis's girlfriend. I'm sure she knows not to speak of this to anyone. But we'll still make sure she doesn't talk."
Mr. X hummed thoughtfully.
"Very well. Feed her the PD, just in case."
Then he turned to Travis.
"You're lucky, boy. Next time you pull this shit, I'll whoop your ass."
Travis nodded quickly.
"Yes, Uncle."
Mr. X moved toward Alisha and stopped directly in front of her. She slowly lifted her eyes—and her breath caught.
He was a monster.
A hulking figure. Long, wavy dark hair. Big, plush lips. A flat nose. And the most terrifying red eyes she had ever seen.
Alisha swallowed hard and immediately dropped her gaze to the floor, trembling.
Mr. X snickered.
"You truly are an exceptional beauty. Too bad you're a boring, pure product. You could've worked for us just fine. Tsk... what a pity."
He turned away and barked,
"Travis!"
Travis rushed to his side. He glanced back at Alisha once—then followed his uncle out of the room.
Alisha exhaled a long, shaky breath as the door slammed shut.
She turned to make sure they were gone, then slowly faced Mrs. McCoy.
The kind, grandmotherly face was gone.
In its place: a cold, stoic mask.
"You there!" she called out.
Two maids rushed into the room.
"Take her... to the White Room," Mrs. McCoy ordered, then turned to Alisha with a wicked grin.
A chill ran down Alisha's spine.
The name sounded harmless.
But she knew better.
She was going to find out what it meant.
And one thing was clear:
She was going to hell.