Page 96 of Ruthless God

Shaking it off, I try another door and step into his bathroom.

Holy. Cow.

Marble floors. A massive glass shower. A tub big enough to practically swim in. The lighting is soft, golden, casting an almost ethereal glow over everything. It makes my bathroom look like a damn shack.

I let out a breath, shaking my head.

Who is Claudius Irons, really?

Because the more I see, the more I realize I know nothing about this man.

One last door leads to a private office. His scent lingers here, too, deep and unmistakable, but it’s woven with something else. The faint smell of firewood and ash, as if a fire once burned here often but hasn’t in a while.

I step further inside, my eyes drifting over the space. It’s minimal. Cold. No framed photos. No personal touches. Not even a calendar. Just a large desk with a sleek laptop resting on top.

Curious, I trail my fingers over the smooth wood, half-expecting to find something that might reveal more about him. But when I try the drawers, they slide open with ease…

Empty.

Every single one.

A strange unease creeps up my spine.

It doesn’t just feel organized. It feels erased.

Like whatever once lived in this room has been carefully, deliberately removed.

I leave the office, stepping back into the bedroom, where Claudius still lies unmoving, his breaths deep and steady.

A new dilemma arises.

Where the hell am I supposed to sleep?

The obvious choice is to make a pallet on the floor, but just imagining it makes my back ache. The hardwood gleams under the dim light. Beautiful but unforgiving.

I glance at the massive bed.

And then at Claudius.

Well… shit.

Of course, the logical choice would be to climb into that massive bed. The thought sends a rush of heat pooling low in my stomach. It’s just sleep. Nothing more. Before I can overthink it, I kick off my shoes and move toward the bed, rounding to the empty side.

The damn thing is so tall that I actually have to pull myself up, gripping the edge and pushing onto the impossibly soft mattress. What is this? A California King? It feels bigger than that. Like royalty slept here centuries ago, and no one ever bothered to downsize.

The space is so vast that even with Claudius unconscious beside me, it doesn’t even feel like I’m sharing a bed.

Which is good. More importantly, it’s safe.

Letting out a slow breath, I close my eyes, allowing the exhaustion of the day to wash over me.

Sleep comes instantly. And this time, I don’t fight it.

I don’t know what wakes me, but I jerk, my heart pounding as my mind scrambles to place where the hell I am.

The room is dark, silent. Except for the sound that comes next.

A low moan.

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