Page 86 of The Arrogant's Surrender

"Her name is Kassia." He says nothing more and steps back, sitting in a chair in the corner. I can feel his eyes on me the whole time.

"Hi, Kassia, my name is Brooklyn Foster . . .”

I begin "talking" to her, explaining that I was also asleep like her, silently praying she can hear me.

After about ten minutes of telling her what happened to me and how Athanasios brought me back, I finally gather the courage to do what I came here for.

"I hope you don’t mind, Kassia, but I’m a hairdresser. I have a plan for when I go back to work. I want to visit nursing homes and patients like you to give them a makeover, especially women. Men don’t understand how a good hairstyle can completely change our mood."

A few minutes later, I look at my work, satisfied.

Her hair is long, more white than black, but after combing it, I notice she looks a little younger than I initially thought.

I glance back at Athanasios, and he’s watching me so seriously that I’m confused.

I walk over to the chair and offer him the comb. He doesn’t make any move to take it.

"What’s wrong?" I ask.

"You said you wanted to visit patients like her. Would you come here sometimes? Maybe I’m doing everything wrong. That’s why I can’t bring her back."

My heart tightens.

Athanasios, insecure?

Instead of answering, I offer him my hand. "Let’s leave the room. As I said, there’s a small chance she can hear us."

He gets up, but before leaving, he checks all the machines. Then he follows me outside.

"Are you sure you want me to come here? I don’t even know if it makes any sense or if it’s effective."

"I want to try everything."

"Why?"

"Because I’m failing."

I hug him. "You’re not. You’re the best at what you do. Maybe she’s just not ready to wake up yet. I’ll come visit her. Just make sure to let the reception know or give me a badge. I don’t know how this works. Actually, you told me I can’t tell anyone her name."

"No, you can’t. When you come, you’ll need to say you’re here to see Mrs. Rosalia Brown."

"Rosalia? That’s the name you use for her? Very different from her real name. Kassia. By the way, what’s the origin of Kassia? I’ve never heard it before."

He kisses my forehead.

"Greek," he says simply.

About half an hour later, I’m sitting in Athanasios’s office, waiting for him.

Coincidentally, as we were leaving, a nurse intercepted us to say there was an emergency. A newborn who had just undergone surgery suffered a cardiac arrest. I watched, fascinated, as he transformed into the cold, efficient surgeon capable of making quick decisions.

He asked me to wait for him and explained that if it took too long, he’d send someone to let me know so the driver could take me home.

I’ve used the time alone in his "domain" to look around his office carefully. I’ve been here once before since we started dating, and well, let’s just say the desk was put to good use.

A shiver runs through me as I remember how he sat in his chair, pressed me against the desk with my legs spread, and devoured me like I was his favorite meal.

I’m so lost in my erotic memories that I jump when the door opens.

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