waking

3.Chapter 3 Prove Yourself

Naomi washed up, taking a deep breath before she slipped into the black silk nightgown Carla had given her. The deep black went well with her tanned skin, making it look soft and glowing. She had a balanced, athletic figure, and she could see in the mirror that her face, clean and fresh like a newly opened flower, was now pink from the warm water. At twenty, she was in the prime of her youth, her body buzzing with energy.

In her old life, Rosalind couldn’t stand Naomi’s glowing face and toned physique and tried more than once to hurt her, pretending to be sleepwalking. But Freddy had put a stop to it because their potential buyer, a man as nasty as they come, wouldn’t want a woman with a marked-up face.

Naomi saw her own smile in the mirror, mysterious at first and then blooming into something sweet and warm. This time around, even with Shawn’s reputation for wrecking beauty, she was determined not to live through the nightmares of her past.

Following Carla’s directions, Naomi made her way to the third floor without hesitation and walked straight to the first bedroom on the left. She gently turned the handle and pushed the unlocked door open. The room was dark except for a flickering light casting an eerie, red hue.

“I’m here, Mr. Fischer,” Naomi called out quietly, stepping onto the cool floor.

Click—the lights flipped on suddenly, forcing Naomi to blink and shield her eyes until they adjusted to the brightness. She found herself in a spacious bedroom, elegantly furnished and divided into different areas. There was an office space with floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall and bookshelves lining the others, filled with an assortment of books. A large, sleek desk sat in front of the bookcases, its surface organized with just a few papers and a laptop.

Shawn was relaxed in his chair behind the desk, holding a cigarette between his fingers, his laid-back pose unchanged as his intense eyes took her in.

The first thing he noticed was how gorgeous Naomi was, especially in that black gown.

Shawn cleared his throat quietly, showing no sign of being put off—maybe this unexpected guest was just what he needed.

“Prove you’re serious if you want to stick with me,” he said in a deep, casual tone. Naomi hesitated, feeling her face heat up and her body respond without her permission. Then, with shaky hands, she let her nightgown fall to the floor and stepped toward Shawn. She tried to stay calm, but she couldn’t stop the nervous excitement that raced through her.

Never before, not even in her two lives or when she’d been pushed to her limits by that cruel man, had she offered herself to a man like this. It felt like the right way to thank Shawn for rescuing her, now and in her past life. Plus, she’d heard he didn’t have much interest in women, so she figured she might be safe from his advances.

“Have you done this before?” Shawn suddenly asked.

Caught off guard, Naomi whispered a soft “Never.”

Freddy had always been Rosalind’s; Naomi was just used as a shield, a decoy to provide Rosalind with her blood. There had been zero romance between Freddy and her, not even a simple touch.

Shawn got up and walked over, only to find him cool with her being there. It looked like he was actually okay with her presence.

“Now get dressed and leave,” Shawn said before he walked into the next room, leaving Naomi with the message that he wasn’t going to touch her—not until he figured her out. Anyway, Shawn had always seen women as more trouble than they were worth.

Naomi was caught off guard but didn’t ask any questions. She quickly slipped back into her silky gown and went downstairs. She knew that Shawn had his defenses up, and if she was going to make it here, she had to make sure she never grossed him out.

Carla was waiting on the second floor, and seeing Naomi in one piece, her smile widened, and she seemed even friendlier. “Congrats, Ms. Edwards.”

Naomi was puzzled but remained courteous. “Thanks, Carla. I’m not really sure what for, though.”

Carla’s grin had this know-it-all vibe as she said, “Ms. Edwards, you’re the first lady Mr. Fischer’s ever brought home and let stay overnight. Even his last girl didn’t get to step foot in here.”

Naomi zeroed in on the phrase “his last girl”. So, there was someone special to Shawn before.

She just couldn’t get a solid read on what Shawn or Carla were thinking. Back in her old life, except for that one time he saved her, she really didn’t have any contact with him. All she knew about the guy was through gossip.

Shawn had wanted her to prove she was for real, and it looked like she’d passed the test. Lying in the soft, cozy bed, Naomi let herself shut her eyes, finally feeling a bit of peace. Her family was probably freaking out by now. She let out a little smirk; the real show was just getting started.

*****

Late at night, Chandler carried Naomi’s thorough file up to Shawn. “Mr. Fischer, I’m positive that Ms. Edwards isn’t part of anyone’s game.”

Shawn was drumming his fingers on his desk. If Naomi was around, she would get a glimpse of his real looks—a face so striking it could be carved from marble, flawless and unmarred. “If that’s what you think, then she stays.”

“Got it. By the way, the Edwards family is freaking out trying to find Ms. Edwards. Should we clue her in?” Chandler was feeling pretty ticked off for Naomi; the Edwards wanted her around just so Rosalind could get her blood fixes. Being born into the Edwards family wasn’t lucky; it was sad to see how Javier and Victoria Edwards, Naomi’s parents, didn’t give two hoots about their younger daughter’s health, making her give blood to Rosalind for a whole decade since she started it at just ten.

Chandler couldn’t wrap his head around how the Edwards family had guilt-tripped Naomi into feeling like she was at fault, like not giving blood was a sin on her part. Thankfully, she bumped into Shawn.

Chandler had grown up around Shawn and worked as his assistant, although Shawn treated him more like family than staff. With Shawn all cool about Naomi being around, Chandler guessed Shawn might keep her close to get in his grandma’s good graces. And knowing Naomi was no threat, Chandler started to hope that she might be the one, the person to bring some light into Shawn’s life.

“Tell her when she wakes up,” Shawn said, lighting a cigarette and thumbing through Naomi’s file until he hit her picture—a girl with bright eyes and a knockout smile, pure and seemingly untouched by life’s darker sides. But the Naomi he’d saved had eyes full of confusion and a fierce kind of anger that this smiling girl in the picture couldn’t even hint at.