The morning sunlight streamed faintly through the heavy curtains, dust motes dancing in the quiet room. Mia had prepared breakfast carefully, placing a tray near Aiden's chair, but he ignored it, his gray eyes fixed elsewhere. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that patience was her only weapon in this house.
"Sir," she said softly, "I thought you might like to—"
"I don't need you to think for me," he interrupted sharply, his voice cutting through the room like ice.
Mia flinched but held her ground. "I… I just want to help. You've been here for so long… maybe a shower would make you feel better?"
He froze, his gaze snapping to her, dark and piercing. "A shower?" he repeated, as if tasting the words for the first time. "You mean… you want to touch me? Help me? Do you think I'm that helpless? Or… that desperate?"
Her heart sank. "No, sir! I just..."
"Just what?" Aiden's voice rose slightly, sharp and cold. "Do you think you can gain something by taking advantage of me? Like all the others? My mother hired gold-diggers, you know. People who smiled and bowed while reaching for my life… and my money. You're no different, are you?"
Mia felt her cheeks flush, a mixture of anger and hurt rising in her chest. "Sir, I'm not like them! I don't care about your money or your status! I just… I want to help you feel better, to make things easier for you!"
He turned his chair slightly, looking away, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the faint trembling of his fingers on the armrest. "Easier?" he muttered, more to himself than to her. "Do you think anyone can make it easier for me? You think… anyone can touch me without consequences?"
"I… I just want to help," she whispered, stepping closer, though carefully keeping her distance. "You don't have to let me, but I can't just watch you suffer and do nothing. Please… let me help."
Aiden's gray eyes finally met hers, a storm of emotions swirling behind them. Anger. Fear. Pain. Hurt. Trust broken long ago. "No," he said finally, his voice flat and firm. "I said no. I don't need you, Mia. And I certainly don't need you… touching me."
Mia's chest tightened, but she swallowed hard, forcing herself to nod. "I understand, sir. I… I won't force you. But if you ever change your mind, I'll be here."
He didn't reply, only turned back toward the window, staring out as though the outside world could shield him from human contact. Mia left the room quietly, her heart aching, knowing the wall between them was higher than she had imagined.
But even in that cold refusal, she saw the cracks—the slightest hints of vulnerability he tried to hide. And she knew, deep down, that behind the ice and anger, there was a part of him that still longed for care, for trust, for connection.
And Mia had made herself a silent promise: she would break through those walls, piece by piece, no matter how long it took.
If you like, I can now write Chapter Six: The Misunderstanding in Her Room, where Aiden misinterprets Mia undressing as an attempt to seduce him, continuing the tension and emotional build-up.