Chapter 22

▫️Stella's POV...

I am just thinking looking at this caring Christian. Who is this man, and where is the certified asshole who do nothing other than irritating me?

Nick returned with the doctor, who quickly started checking my wounds. Nick patted my head, smiling gently. "Relax, Stella. You're safe now."

I nodded again, still reeling from all the attention. If they kept caring for me like this, I wouldn't think twice before putting my life on the line for their sake. They all mean something in my life.

The doctor patched me up, gave me pills, and left. Then Ava burst into the room, clearly woken up late like the heavy sleeper she is. She ran to me, hugged me tightly, and cursed the intruder like there was no tomorrow.

"I'm fine, guys. See?" I said, attempting a smile. "The intruder is caught. And I don't fear him, I'll forget him after a good sleep. You all should sleep too. It's already too late for this mess."

Nick frowned. "What matters is that you're safe." He patted my head again, and I swear, I felt like his little sister at that moment.

Ava hugged me again, and MJ and Liam gave me reassuring words. Ava insisted I sleep here since it was safer, and I nodded. As they all left one by one, I felt a pang of gratitude. In the past, I had no one. No one I could trust. No one to rely on. Now, I have five people---one- two- three- four- five- who care about me.

Once everyone was gone, Christian closed the door behind them.

He sat on the bed beside me, his expression serious. "Tell me everything that happened."

I told him, reliving the chaos, and his face softened slightly.

"You did good," he said with a small smile.

I couldn't help but feel proud. "See? I told you I could handle an intruder!"

He chuckled at this, still shirtless.

After a moment of silence, I decided to teach him manners out of blue. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. "Are you really that broken that you don't own a t-shirt?"

Christian scoffed, clearly unfazed. "I have," he said, pulling on a plain black t-shirt over his ridiculously sculpted chest.

I sighed, immediately regretting my big mouth. Great job, Stella. There goes the perfect view. Those abs, that smooth, shiny skin-why did I have to ruin it? I mean, would it have killed me to just keep quiet for a few more seconds? How does it even feel to touch that? Soft? Firm?-Nothing, Stella, it feels like nothing. Stop romanticizing his abs like you're writing some cheesy romance novel.

But then he caught my sigh. Of course he did.

Christian smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Already missing the view, huh?"

I shot him a glare and ignored him, pretending I wasn't mentally kicking myself.

The thing is, Christian Knight isn't just arrogant-he's a walking, talking puzzle. Tattoos covered every inch of his chest, back, and both arms. Snakes, lions, scorpions-basically everything dangerous and deadly. And those quotes? They looked like they were in some foreign language my dumbass can never read.

What kind of guy gets tatted up with symbols of chaos and mystery and then acts like he owns the world? A bipolar one, that's who. One second, he's all smirks and teasing. The next, he's dead serious and looking like he's plotting someone's downfall.

I swear, Christian Knight was a hurricane in human form-and I was the idiot standing right in the middle of it.

Wait, stop thinking about him bitch.

I was busy in my thoughts neither he said anything after he chuckled. So he just stand up from the bed. I think to sleep.

Such a gentleman. I think he'll sleep on the sofa and let me have the bed.

But no. Huh? That asshole laid down on the bed, beside me. How dare he? That's why I don't romanticize him.

"Wait!" I yelled, glaring at him. "Why are you sleeping on the bed?"

Propping himself up on one elbow, he smirked. "Because it's my room. My bed."

I huffed. "But can't you see I'm here too? Be a gentleman and sleep on sofa and let me have the bed."

He let out a low laugh. "First of all, I'm a mafia boss. Being a gentleman isn't exactly in my skillset. Second, I don't sleep on sofas. If you have a problem sleeping here with me, you're free to use the sofa. It's empty."

I scoffed, grabbing a pillow and blanket, and stormed over to the sofa like an elephant. He laughed at me as I settled in.

"This is uncomfortable," I muttered, already regretting my decision. What if I fall during the night? I bet I'll wake up with back pain tomorrow.

Then came his annoying voice. " Admit it Stella you are sleeping on sofa bcoz you can't handle the temptation of being in bed with me."

I snapped back immediately, "Temptation? You? Oh please Christian, don't flatter yourself. I'm sleeping here because I don't want to share bed with a cocky jerk. And you probably snores and drools in sleep."

"I don't snore" he replied smugly. " But it's good you aren't beside me. I feel safer now. With the way you drool over me, anything could happen to my virginity."

I threw pillow at him and said, "You know what? I'm neither interested in you nor that small dick of yours. So, fuck off. Believe me, your virginity is safer with me than anyone else in the world. I'd rather turn lesbian than be with you!"

"Mine isn't small," he said indignantly, narrowing his eyes at me. "Don't say things unless you've seen it or have desires to see it."

I scoffed, tossing the blanket over myself dramatically, "I don't need to see anything to know that you're lacking. It's written all over your face-no stamina, no skills, and no size. Honestly, I pity the poor soul who ends up with you."

His laugh was low and dangerous, sending an annoying chill down my spine as he said "You really want to go there, Stella? Fine. Let's talk about it. Two minutes with me, and you'll see stars. Day or night."

"Two minutes?" I repeated, laughing so hard my stomach ached. His ego was something else. "Oh, is that your record? No wonder you're single. Two minutes is barely enough time to take your shirt off, let alone that thing, and regarding the stars you're supposedly showing me in your delusional world, let me tell you, nobody-especially me-is after that tiny package of yours." I said while doing gesture of tiny from my forefinger and thumb.

His smirk widened as he leaned back in his seat, that cocky look still plastered on his face. "Careful, Stella. I'm king-sized."

I waved him off, completely unfazed. "How long are you going to be in denial? Let's face it. That's the reason you're single-no one wants a two-minute disappointment with you. "

His eyebrow raised, that stupid smirk still intact. "I'm single by choice because I haven't found someone up to my standards. Don't mistake my personality."

I burst out laughing, pointing at him like he'd just said the funniest thing ever. "Your personality is the least of your problems. It's your size that's questionable."

For a second, I saw his smirk falter, and that tiny crack in his confidence gave me life. But then he leaned forward, his eyebrow arching with a challenging look. "My size? You know, Stella, you're really bad at math. Maybe I should give you a demonstration so you can measure it properly."

My eyes widened, my brain struggling to process his audacity. "You-you pervert!" I stammered, yanking the blanket over my head like it would shield me from his insanity. "Without demonstration, I can already tell yours is barely a two!"

He laughed, coming towards me and leaning closer, and I could practically feel his amusement radiating off him. "Okay then. Let me show you. Bring a scale."

I peeked out from under the blanket, my face probably redder than I wanted to admit. "Don't you have any shame saying this to a girl?"

He shrugged, laughing like he didn't have a care in the world. "You started it, sweetheart. Don't act all shy now."

"I'm not shy," I muttered, pulling the blanket over my head again. "I'm disgusted. I can't believe I'm stuck in this room with you discussing something more disgusting."

"Well," he said, leaning closer so his voice dropped into that teasing, infuriating tone, "if you're disgusted, maybe you should stop thinking about my little knight."

This time I fell down laughing bcoz he even named his tiny thing. Little knight. "I'm not thinking about your tiny equipment!"

He leaned forward, his smirk daring me to challenge him further. "I'll surely give you proof if you ever question my size."

I scoffed, crossing my arms in defiance. "Proof? From you? Please, I've seen more impressive cucumbers at the grocery store."

His grin turned wicked as his gaze locking onto mine. "You can only see cucumbers bcoz with that foul mouth of yours you can never get a boyfriend. That's why you're a virgin-or maybe it's because your true colors scream horny and wild."

My jaw dropped, and I jabbed a finger at him, refusing to let him win this. "For the record, you're my husband, and if I'm horny, I should cry over the fact that my husband is barely a two. Now I understand why you forced me into marriage-because no one else would willingly marry you!"

His smirk disappeared, replaced by a slow, predatory grin. "You've got some nerve, Stella," he said, his voice dropping low as he leaned over me. I pressed myself back against the sofa, but he didn't stop, his hands bracing on either side of my head. "But let me tell you this-don't speak on what you haven't seen unless you're ready to see it. And believe me, once you do, you won't be able to look away."

I scoffed, trying to keep my voice steady even though it faltered slightly. "Yeah, because I'll be laughing too hard!"

He stepped back, letting me have the last word, and turned to walk away with that same stupid smirk on his face. "You know what it's useless to talk with you. Good night, Stella. Try not to dream about me and mine thing with which you are obsessed."

"I don't dream about dicks and dickheads!" I shot back, closing my eyes dramatically.

He chuckled, the sound deep and infuriatingly amused.

As he flopped onto the bed like he owned the world, I couldn't help but smirk. At least he's king of this room. It's his room.

I'm still amused by my boldness earlier-calling out his dick tiny . I've cursed it so many times, but today it just slipped out. Thank God it didn't escalate, or he'd have shot me without a second thought.

Now, here I am on this lumpy sofa while he sleeps like a king. Life's unfair.