Rebirth: Love me Again

Chapter 240 The Devil's Call

"Ah, no! Of course not! I'm just . . . you know . . . a little tired. It's past eight, after all."

I was subtly trying to remind him that it was evening—a time when normal people were winding down, not running around doing menial tasks. But of course, Leander was as dense as a brick wall.

He scoffed, a sound so dismissive it made my blood boil. "It's not that late. Come to room 417, in Grand Hotel. It's near you, so I'll expect you here in ten minutes."

"Room 417? Grand Hotel? What? Why?" I stammered, sitting upright in bed, my heart already pounding.

"Just get here. Or you'll regret it."

With that, the line went dead.

I stared at my phone, dread curling in my stomach. No sane woman would ever walk into a situation like this. Who knew what was waiting for me in that room at this hour? The entire scenario screamed bad decision.

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But Leander's anger scared me even more than the uncertainty of what was waiting behind that door. The man didn't just demand respect—he demanded complete submission, and I wasn't brave (or stupid) enough to challenge him.

As I got up and threw on a jacket, I glanced at the bodyguards I had recently hired. I'd brought them on after realizing that crossing paths with Leander wasn't exactly a ticket to a peaceful life.

So far, he hadn't done anything to endanger me physically, but his habit of treating me like a personal assistant-slash-servant was putting my patience—and sanity—to the test.

I'll be safe. I thought to myself.

I repeated that lie in my head as I made my way to the dreaded room 417, each step feeling heavier than the last. Knowing Leander, this could be anything from some ridiculous errand to a ploy to entertain himself at my expense. My only consolation was that, so far, his requests had been annoying but harmless.

I just hoped tonight wouldn't be the night he decided to break that pattern.

I froze, staring at him in disbelief. "Y-you . . . you called me here to bandage your wounds?"

Leander's lips curved into a grin, and my heart thudded uncomfortably hard against my chest. "What else did you think I called you here for?"

My face burned as I stumbled over my words. "I-I thought you wanted me to fetch coffee or do your laundry or something!"

He chuckled, the sound deep and almost teasing. "Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. For now, just get over here and bandage my back."

I clenched my fists, massaging my temples as I tried to process the sheer audacity of this man. "Wouldn't it be easier if you just went to the hospital?"

"No." His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

"Oh, I get it," I said, narrowing my eyes. "It's because of those illegal fights, isn't it? You're afraid the police will find out."

His gaze sharpened, and I immediately regretted my words. "How do you know about that?" he asked, his voice dropping to a deep, gravelly tone that made me shrink back slightly. "Are you psychic or something?"

"Wait . . . so I'm right?" I gawked.

"Except I'm not afraid of the police." His tone was nonchalant, as if this was just another day in his life. "It's just some gang I had to put in their place, and I don't want my father to know and blow it out of proportion."

Of course, the big boss of the mafia empire was his father.

"Wait, gang?" My voice rose an octave. "What kind of life are you living?"

"The kind where I don't need your commentary," he shot back. "Now, are you coming here to help or not?"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Dealing with Leander was like trying to reason with a two year old child—pointless, frustrating, and exhausting.

Begrudgingly, I grabbed the first-aid kit and moved closer, all the while mentally questioning every life choice that had led me to this moment.