The streets were quiet as Mary approached the house, her breath visible in the crisp evening air. When she reached the porch, she pulled the key and slid into the lock, but it didn't turn. Frowning, she tried it again, her heart sinking as the key jammed uselessly.
The lock had been changed. Again.
Her stomach churned with unease as she laughed. She stepped back, glancing up at the windows. A bright light shone from inside. Someone was home.
Her fist pounded the door angrily. "Hello? Is anyone there?" She called, her voice trembling with frustration. She was tired!
For a moment, there was silence. Then there came a sound of low, deliberate footsteps. The door creaked open to reveal Adrian Blackwood.
He leaned lazily against the doorframe. His eyes gleamed with amusement and disdain, his smirk as sharp as a blade.
He knew she was out there the whole time.
"Well, well," Adrian drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. "Look who decided to show up."
Mary's hands clenched at her sides, ignoring his sculptured muscular biceps. "What's going on, Mr. Blackwood? Why won't my key work?"
He blocked her view from the light spilling from behind him. "Oh, that? I had the locks changed. I figured it was time for a fresh start around here. Gardeners and workers will arrive tomorrow. Can't have anyone wandering around."
Her chest tightened as his words sank in. "This is my home."
"My father is dead," He Interrupted coldly, his smirk fading into something harsher. "And the Hanbok house is mine. Whatever arrangement he had with you died with him."
Mary's throat tightened. "He cared about this place."
"Legally, this is my property. You're a stray he took in out of pity."
Her stomach twisted at the venom in his words." Give me some time, and I will gladly find a place." She said without thinking.
He laughed. "How many days are we talking about?"
"One month. After that, I'll leave without a fight."
He stood, towering over her. "One month," he said, his voice clipped. "But don't mistake this for kindness. You stay out of my way, you don't touch anything that belongs to me."
"Agreed."
He stepped closer, his blue eyes locking into hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. "If you don't keep your end of the bargain, I won't hesitate to throw you out myself."
This wasn't over. Adrian might think he'd won, but she wasn't going to give up without a fight.
It has begun.
The neighborhood was quiet the next morning. Mary laughed as Taylor whispered something over the phone. Her voice was light and exciting.
"If you'd seen how he tripped over that chair on TV-" Her laughter was interrupted by the sudden roar of machinery outside her window. She frowned, pulling the phone away from her ear.
"What was that?" Taylor asked, her voice tiny through the speaker. "Don't tell me the devil has gone killer mode."
"Let me check." She replied, getting up and moving toward the window. She pulled back the curtain and was met with chaos.
A team of workers swarmed in the yard, their bright morning vests flashing in the morning light. Lawnmowers roared, and hedge trimmers buzzed. Standing amidst the frenzy was Adrian in an impeccably tailored suit, his expression cold and calculating.
"Oh no," Mary muttered. "Doesn't he ever sleep?"
She stormed out of her room, phone still in hand, and flung the front door open. "What is going on here?"
Adrian turned to face her, his eyes cool and indifferent. "Good morning, Miss Calloway," he said smoothly as though the chaos around him was normal. "I'm simply having my team prepare for the landscaping. The yard was looking unkempt."
"The yard is not unkempt!"
"Actually as of yesterday, it was."
"You can't just-"
"Ah, but I can," He interrupted, his voice hardening. "I can do anything I want. As a reminder, you're welcome to stay temporarily. But I suggest you get used to a little... noise and chaos."
Mary stood frozen, her fist clenched at her sides as Adrian turned away, barking orders to the workers.
"Mary?" Taylors voice came through the phone, forgotten in her hand. "What's going on?"
"War." She muttered, her jaw tightening as she glared at Adrian's retreating figure.
Adrian stood, facing the mirror, as he adjusted his bow tie. His reflection stared back at him, sharp and brooding, his thought haunted him.
He ran a hand through his dark hair. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, his voice low and sharp. "How can one girl be this difficult?"
He turned away from the mirror, pacing the room. Mary Calloway has been in this house for a week.
"She doesn't belong here," he growled to himself.
But as he spoke these words, he knew they were a lie. Mary was not out of place. If anything, she fit too well. Her presence was electric. She challenged him, defiled him, and refused to cower in the face of his authority.
And that was the problem. He was used to people obeying his orders.
Adrian stopped pacing, gripping the edge of the bed as he leaned forward. "I hate her," he said aloud, the words bitter on his tongue. " I hate her arrogance. Her stubbornness. Her damn laughter."
His hands clenched to his fists, his nails biting to his palms. No, it wasn't just hate. Somewhere between their hateful fiery arguments and her relentless resilience, she had gotten under his skin. And that terrified him.