6 Careless Rest
On full zombie mode, I dragged myself out of bed and quickly got ready—dressing straight into my school outfit so I could head there right after the mansion. A black pencil skirt, a light gray turtleneck, and short-heeled ankle boots. No time for breakfast—not that I could eat this early anyway. My body wanted sleep, not food.
The snow had piled up significantly overnight. I had to dig out my car, but at least the roads were plowed, and I reached the Alpha’s estate without any trouble.
Just as Lakisha promised, the guards let me through with no issue and handed me a special pass.
The mansion greeted me with silence and a bone-deep chill. Not that the heating was off—it worked fine. But the place lacked warmth, that comforting, lived-in feel a real home has. Everything was perfect, pristine—but empty. Lifeless.
And I guess that made sense. A home only comes to life when people live in it—bringing stories, emotions, love, pain, and messes. This house was still a blank slate. No one had truly lived here yet.
In the small servant’s room, I found the uniform prepared for me: a standard dark blue dress, buttoned completely down the front like a housecoat, three-quarter sleeves, a white collar, and an apron. Alongside it were black ballet flats—my size. Brand new, which was nice.
Only problem? My chest. The top three buttons refused to close—my boobs simply weren’t having it.
Fine. I’d wear it as is today and ask Lakisha later if it could be let out in the bust.
Suppressing a yawn, I got to work. Honestly, it was kind of nice that no one lived here. No one messed things up, hovered over me, or scattered stuff around. Everything stayed exactly where it belonged. Just dust and tidying.
And the Alpha even had a robot vacuum-mop combo! It cleaned most of the floors for me—I just had to handle the corners, baseboards, and trickier spots by hand.
Still, robot or not, the house was massive. Room after room. My feet ached, and my head began to pound. Thankfully, I always carried painkillers. I took one and pushed through.
Finally, there was only one room left: the Alpha’s bedroom.
I stepped inside and let out a low whistle. The place was huge. Maybe the Alpha had a size complex?
Dark gray walls were accented with deep green and gilded details. The massive bed was dressed in black silk sheets. There were nightstands on each side, a TV, dresser, an armchair, and—for the love of God—a mirrored ceiling.
Seriously? Who the hell needs a mirrored ceiling? Rich people and their twisted kinks…
Other than that, the decor was painfully minimalistic. There were three doors aside from the main one—one led to a bathroom in dark marble, another to a closet (fully stocked, by the way), and the third to a snow-covered terrace balcony.
The view from the window was stunning: a perfectly maintained yard that bled into a forest in the distance, with a wide river just barely visible beyond.
I dusted everything and set the robot vacuum loose. My head was still pounding, so I decided to lie down for a moment while it worked.
The sheets smelled amazing—earthy pine, smoky wood, and just a hint of tobacco. I closed my eyes, breathing it in, letting the hum of the vacuum lull me…
Suddenly, an enormous weight crushed me into the bed.
My eyes flew open in shock—and there, hovering over me, pinning me beneath his massive body, was a man.
No—not just a man. The man.
Alpha Wayland. In the flesh.
And he was furious.
His chest rose and fell rapidly. His golden eyes burned with feral rage. And the terrifying part? He didn’t say a single word.
That’s when it hit me.
I couldn’t hear the vacuum anymore.
Had I really… fallen asleep?
On the Alpha’s bed?