Chapter 35 Does he want me to clean his mouth?
Minutes later, inside the Bentley.
Silence reigned, isolating them from the chaos outside. The sound of rain hitting the car roof created an intimate, almost claustrophobic atmosphere.
Katherine was sitting in the passenger seat, leaning back against the soft leather. The heat from the heater, combined with her full stomach, made her feel sluggish. Her eyelashes felt heavy. One of her few weaknesses was post-meal drowsiness.
She was almost dozing when a movement beside her awakened her.
A handsome male hand with long fingers appeared in her field of vision. He was holding a pristine white napkin.
“Wipe that,” commanded the cold, magnetic voice.
Katherine's drowsiness dissipated slightly. She blinked, confused, looking at the napkin and then at his profile.
João frowned impatiently. He took one hand off the steering wheel and pointed to the corner of his own mouth, making an indicative gesture. “You have something dirty here.”
But Katherine's sleepy mind processed the gesture differently.
She looked at the napkin in his hand. She looked at his perfect face. She looked at the gesture he was making at his own mouth.
Ah. He wants me to wipe his mouth? How demanding.
With an internal sigh about the arrogance of rich men, Katherine decided to get it over with.
She took the napkin from his hand.
And then, with mechanical, superficial calm, she stretched out her arm.
Her fingers brushed his chin as she wiped the napkin across the corner of João Pedro's mouth, cleaning away nonexistent dirt.
The car seemed to stop in time.
João froze. Her touch was light, but the shock ran down his spine like electricity.
João Pedro's expression closed instantly.
In a quick reflex, his hand shot out and grabbed her slender wrist, interrupting the touch. His skin burned against hers.
“What do you think you're doing?” His voice came out hoarse, a dangerous warning.
Katherine blinked, undaunted by the strength of his grip or the intense proximity. “Didn't you ask me to wipe your mouth?”
João Pedro's handsome face darkened, a mixture of frustration and disbelief. He looked at her wrist—smooth, soft, delicate as porcelain—trapped in his large, calloused hand.
As if he had been burned, he abruptly let go of her. “I wanted you to wipe your own mouth.”
“Oh.” Katherine didn't seem the least bit embarrassed.
She pulled the napkin back and casually wiped her own lips. The car stopped at a red light. The passenger window was half open. About three meters away, on the sidewalk, there was a public trash can.
Without even looking properly, Katherine crumpled the paper into a compact ball and, with an almost imperceptible flick of her wrist, threw it.
The paper cut through the air and entered the trash can with surgical precision, as if guided by a laser. Swoosh.
João didn't see the throw, as his cell phone vibrated violently at that moment.
He put on his Bluetooth headset, his face returning to an icy mask. “Go ahead.”
Two seconds later, the atmosphere inside the Bentley changed dramatically. The romantic tension evaporated, replaced by a solemn, murderous aura. “Keep an eye out,” he ordered, his voice sharp. “I'm on my way.”
Katherine glanced at him sideways. Her warning instincts kicked in. She wore a hearing aid and he had headphones on, so the content of the conversation was a mystery. But his body language didn't lie: the white knuckles on the steering wheel, his clenched jaw, and the sudden acceleration that pressed her back into the seat.
He was in a hurry. It was something serious.
In an instant, Katherine's eyes flashed, not with fear, but with calculation.
If he has to leave to deal with an emergency... That means his room will be empty. And the false wall in the bathroom will be unprotected.
It was a golden opportunity.
Ten minutes later, the Bentley braked sharply in front of the main gate of Arbex Mansion, raising a curtain of water.
Before getting out, Katherine decided to test the waters. “Dinner is almost ready,” she said in a deceptively soft voice. “Are you going out again?”
João Pedro didn't even look at her. He rolled down the window and motioned sharply for the guard to approach with his umbrella. “I won't be home for dinner tonight. Don't wait up for me.”
Katherine nodded slowly, hiding her satisfaction. “Okay. I'll let your mother know.”
She put her hand on the doorknob, but stopped. She turned to him and, with the most innocent expression she could muster, dropped the bomb: “And later... will you be back for bed?”
João's movement stopped. He turned his head slowly, his dark, deep eyes fixing on her with overwhelming intensity.
What kind of question was that? Was she... inviting him? Or just checking his schedule like a devoted wife?
The silence in the car was deafening.
At that moment, the guard opened the passenger door, shielding the exit with a huge black umbrella. João looked away, swallowing the strangeness of that interaction. “Get out of the car,” he ordered curtly.
Katherine didn't hesitate. She got out quickly, light as a feather.
As soon as the door slammed shut, the Bentley's engine roared and the car sped off into the rain, disappearing into the night like a black lightning bolt.
Katherine entered the lobby, shaking a few raindrops from her coat. Her lips curved into a subtle smile. The coast is clear.
In the living room, Anastasia Coller came running, her face lit up with anticipation. “My dears, you're back!” She looked behind Katherine, confused. “Well... where's Pedro?”
“Oh,” Katherine replied calmly. “He had an urgent appointment. He said he won't be back for dinner.”
Anastasia pouted childishly, disappointed. “That boy... he's always married to his work. What a waste of a romantic rainy night!”
Katherine just smiled, but her mind was already on the second floor of the neighboring house, plotting her plan to break into the bedroom of the man who had just left.