The Don's Unwanted Bride

CHAPTER 7

Hayden's POV

I've never seen a pair of eyes so brown. Not just the ordinary kind. No, these were deep pools of chocolate that seemed to swallow the whites of her eyes.

The irises bled so richly into the edges that they barely left space for anything else. The kind of brown that made you forget what you were about to say, that dragged you in whether you wanted to go or not.

Everything about her was brown, her hair, long and wavy, cascading over her shoulders like she just walked out of some old movie set. Even her skin had a warm undertone, kissed by the sun, glowing despite the panic etched across her face.

But it wasn’t just her looks that held me in place. It was the uncanny feeling that I’d seen her before. Somewhere. Somehow.

Her face scratched at a memory buried deep in my mind, like a ghost tapping gently on a closed door. But no matter how hard I stared, I couldn't find the key to that door. She was familiar, too familiar, yet her name? Blank.

My eyes flicked to the worn-out luggage by her side, her fingers clutched the handles like it was the last lifeline she had left in this world.

The guards flanking her looked like they were ready to toss her out the second I gave the nod. They didn’t see what I saw.

But I did. Desperation. Controlled panic. A need that went far deeper than just a job.

"She says she came for the maid vacancy," one of the guards said with a grunt, when I didn’t say a word. He stepped slightly in front of her as if she were a threat.

I raised a brow and let my eyes travel back to her. She didn’t say anything at first. Just looked down, then up at me again. Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

Suddenly, she waved her hand and turned toward the gate. "Never mind," she said quickly, her voice trembling. "I’ll just leave."

Her hand trembled against the metal suitcase handle as she began to drag her things back toward the gate. The suitcase bounced on the gravel, echoing louder than it should in the stillness of the morning. She was scared. Not just nervous, scared. And that intrigued me.

"Wait," I called out, my voice cutting cleanly through the air.

She froze mid-step. Her shoulders tensed and I saw her knuckles turn white as she clutched the suitcase harder. Then, slowly, she turned to face me.

Her eyes met mine and for a second, something flickered. Fear? Recognition? Both? I couldn’t tell.

"What's your name again?" I asked, curious more than anything else.

She licked her bottom lip and took a shaky breath. "I… I'm… Andrea," she stammered. "Andrea Mathew."

I nodded slowly, repeating the name in my head. Andrea Mathew. Nothing about it rang any bells.

Still, that itch in the back of my mind remained.

The silence between us dragged until one of the guards took a step forward. "Sir, if she’s lying, we can escort her off the premises."

I held up a hand to stop him. "The job is yours, Andrea," I said simply.

Her jaw dropped slightly. Her eyes widened, flickering with disbelief.

"What?"

"You heard me," I replied, turning my back to her and heading for the entrance. "Steph will show you around."

"But… I didn’t submit an application. You haven’t even interviewed me."

I paused at the door and looked over my shoulder.

"You didn’t need to."

She stood there, completely frozen, like she couldn't decide whether to run or follow me inside. Steph, my most trusted aide, walked forward and gave her a small smile.

"Come with me," Steph said, gesturing toward the house. "You’ll need to be vetted and settled in."

"Vetted?"

"Background check. Standard procedure. But you’ll be fine if you’ve got nothing to hide."

I watched the color drain from her face for a fraction of a second before she masked it with a nod. She followed Steph, her steps unsure, but she didn’t resist. Interesting.

As I turned and walked into the main house, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just let something dangerous into my home.

But I was too curious to stop myself.