**ROSEANA**
I awoke with sunlight on my face. I sighed. As I tried to shield my eyes with my palm, my face crumbled. I shifted to the opposite side of the bed and rested my head on the pillow that had come into the grasp of my hand.
I'm feeling better now. I'm no longer bothered by the headache. I wanted to sleep first to replenish my energy, but I wasn't tired.
I sat down on the bed carefully. I sighed as I leaned back against the bedframe. My back pain is most likely caused by poor sleeping posture. When I realized I wasn't in my room, I rubbed my eyes. I tensed up.
In the room, only white and gray are used. The walls are gray, the enormous bed is white, and there are almost no decorations other than the bedside table and light on it. My curtains were sage green, as I recall, but they were black in here. Because the cloth is so thick, I didn't think light could get through it. The wind is toying with it as the veranda is open.
I was even more taken aback when I noticed an office chair and table off to the side of the room. What am I doing in Damon's room? I believe this is his room because of the little office, the basic decor, and the generally dull and cold vibe of the place. But what brings me here? I went to my room last night after opting to forego meals, as I recall.
How did I wind up in Damon's room instead of mine?
not what you should be thinking about right now, Roseana. You've entered your husband's chamber. And, while I can't recall what happened last night, I'm sure I was with someone. When I attempt to remember, I can't see the face of a man who took good care of me the whole night. My recollection is vague, but I recall him giving me medicine. He gave me medication and cleaned my body. He even changed my clothes for me.
I put my hand over my mouth. Who is that man? Damon? That, however, is impossible. He sent his secretary because he didn't want to go home, so why should he be the one to look after me?
I shook my head. Maybe I'm just hallucinating due to my high-temperature last night.
"Good morning, ma'am."
When someone suddenly spoke, I squealed.
Martinez grumbled about my yelling, "So many pitches for someone with a burning head last night." He places the papers on Damon's table.
"When did you get in?" I asked, taking a deep breath. Because of the sheer shock, I felt my entire existence come alive.
"A while ago, while you were gawking like a moron."
I ignored him when he called me an idiot. I'm not sure if this Martinez has an issue with me because he often bullies me or if he's just joking.
I drew the bed sheet up to my chest to cover myself. I realized I wasn't wearing a bra. That explains why my body felt chilled. I'm dressed in an oversized T-shirt. It's so huge that the shirt's sleeves are below my elbow when they should be above it.
When I realized I was still wearing underwear, I breathed a sigh of relief. It's fortunate that--- Martinez dressed me That realization caused my pupils to dilate.
"You undress me? I exclaimed. My voice could be heard in all four corners of the room.
"What?!" he exclaimed, his face befuddled and shocked. Martinez stared at me, perplexed.
"You!" I said, pointing at him. "Pervert!" I cried fiercely at him. I tighten my grip on the sheet to ensure that I am fully covered.
"I am not!" Martinez retorted. He looked to be offended.
"Yes, you are! If you aren't, why would you strip me without my permission? Worst of all, I'm sick!"
I locked my gaze on Martinez. If only looks could kill, he would have been dead and blind on the floor.
"Look, you're mistaken; I'm not the one who—" I cut him off before he could finish.
"Get away from me!" I said loudly as he approached me.
"You change my clothes. You're looking at my naked body!" I declared emphatically.
"What the fucking hell did you say, Roseana?!" Damon's voice boomed around the room. Martinez, too, was taken aback.
"Damon?" I asked. I can't believe he's here. I said. I wanted to ask him why he was here, but then I realized that he is the owner of this house and may come here whenever he wants.
"Sir, please allow me to explain," Martinez replied quickly. It's the second time I've seen him lose his color as a result of nervousness.
Damon remained silent. I merely followed him with a glance as he headed toward his table. I'm still amazed he's here today. I don't want to acknowledge it, but I can't deny how much I missed him. I missed his voice, his scent, and his jet-black eyes that looked at me with an emotion I couldn't understand.
While I'm admiring Damon and repeating the sentence "I missed him" in my head, Damon's secretary is sweating profusely. Martinez gave me a blank stare.
Martinez said softly to me, "Help me."
I rolled my eyes at him and ignored him. Now that Damon is here, he is scared, whereas just now he was yelling at me.
"When? Since when did you betray me, Martinez?" I heard Damon ask. I heard the opening and closing of Damon's table cabinet. I saw that he took something from there, but I couldn't see what it was because his back was turned to me.
"S-Sir…"
"When did you even think of stealing what's mine? Did you lay your hands on her?"
I am alternately looking at them. One is asking calmly, while the other is shivering in fear.
"There must be a misunderstanding here." Martinez tried to explain himself to his boss.