Chapter 134/Beyond the Forbidden Door

Chapter 134: 134/Beyond the Forbidden Door

Chapter 134

**Stephanie’s POV**

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with acute embarrassment, fully aware that his comment was a direct jab at my pungent choice of perfume. I shifted my weight, trying to play off my visible discomfort.

"I just wanted to experiment with a completely new fragrance," I muttered, looking away. "But it seems the reality didn’t match my expectations at all."

His grey eyes darkened to an absolute pitch, his rigid features locking into a mask of pure iron as he delivered a strict, commanding ultimatum: "Do not ever wear that fluid again."

*Damnation.* Was the scent genuinely that horrific?!

Isabella immediately intervened, tilting her head sideways as she offered a highly manufactured, artificial smile. "Don’t pay any attention to him, Stephanie," she purred smoothly. "The perfume is actually beautiful. You must give me the exact brand name later."

I forcefully compelled my pale lips into a highly strained smile, my heart hammering against my ribs in a frantic rush to escape. "Thank you so much, Isabella... Excuse me, I really must depart this instant."

Turning on my heel, I bolted from the estate grounds with rapid paces and climbed inside my car. I aggressively gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white with absolute force as I slammed on the gas, accelerating straight out into the streets.

Throughout the entire drive, a severe wave of immense discomfort and deep constriction twisted inside my abdomen, escalating violently with every single movement of the vehicle. The trousers were profoundly tight, mercilessly digging straight into my internal organs and suffocating the babies.

I navigated the roads with thoroughly shattered nerves until I finally arrived at the perimeter of Vincenti’s private estate, driving the vehicle straight through the colossal gates of the property.

I brought the car to a halt and scooped up my phone, my hand trembling with raw fury as I dialed his number. The absolute millisecond his characteristically freezing, detached voice answered, I snapped, "I have officially arrived at your location. I am standing directly at the entrance, Mr. Vincenti."

He fired back with a biting, exceptionally sharp sarcasm, his overriding arrogance completely suffocating my throat. "Are you waiting for me to roll out a literal red carpet for your arrival, Miss Miller?!"

My fingers locked up violently around the steering wheel as I snapped back sharply, "Are you not coming downstairs so we can head straight to the company headquarters?"

He delivered his next words in a strict, final hiss: "Step straight inside the house."

My eyes widened to their absolute limits, my voice shaking with pure condemnation. "The house?! What on earth am I supposed to do inside your private—"

Before I could even finish my sentence, he rudely slammed the line shut directly in my face yet again.

*Oh... you wretched, idiotic bastard!*

I aggressively struck the steering wheel with the palm of my hand in pure malice. Climbing out of the car, my frame intensely tensed, I advanced with furious paces straight toward the main entrance and violently jammed my thumb against the doorbell.

After a few brief seconds, the heavy door opened smoothly to reveal a housemaid clad in her official uniform. I stared at her, my face highly flushed and irritated. "Hello... I am Stephanie Miller, Mr. Vincenti’s employee."

She politely stepped aside to clear the pathway, locking her eyes onto my face. "Please step inside, Miss Miller... he is currently waiting for your arrival."

I stepped inside the house with hesitant paces, a severe anxiety aggressively gnawing at my insides. The interior was completely swallowed by a pitch-black darkness, as though every piece of coal in existence had accumulated within its corners, rendering the entire atmosphere suffocating and desolate.

"Where is Mr. Vincenti?" I asked the maid in a lowered, tense whisper.

She responded calmly, gesturing toward a dark corridor. "Please proceed, Miss Miller, right this way."

I trailed behind her with a stiffened body, though my mind remained thoroughly mesmerized and unnerved by the interior decor. Every imaginable shade of black was overwhelmingly present, dominating the sofas, the furniture, the structural artifacts, and even the small statues he used to adorn the space. We headed toward the staircase; she ascended with light, effortless movements, while I lagged behind her, having a genuinely hard time due to the ruthless constriction of my tight trousers pressing into my stomach.

We made our way to the upper level, where the black motif was equally heavy, laced with sharp strokes of grey that only amplified the freezing, clinical coldness of the environment. Even the doors were painted in absolute pitch-black—so much so that you needed sharp vision just to tell where the boundaries of a door frame officially ended.

The maid abruptly halted before a massive door. "Mr. Vincenti is inside," she said, before turning and departing rapidly, abandoning me entirely alone in the gloomy hallway.

My hand extended with a highly visible tremor to knock on the door, my mind violently racing with frantic, terrifying questions. What kind of work requires me to be inside his actual house?!

Suddenly, his harsh, gravelly voice cut from the other side of the wood. "Enter."

I threw the door open with a heavy hand and stepped inside, instantly freezing in my tracks out of sheer, unadulterated shock. My breath hitched. I was utterly staggered to discover that I had stepped straight into a bedroom. There stood a massive, colossal bed finished in absolute black, naturally.

I figured this man harbored an obsession with black that bordered on a psychological fixation, but I had fundamentally expected to find a professional home office, not a literal bedroom. A severe tension completely invaded my senses as my stomach twisted in sheer terror. *What exactly is my job inside his bedroom?!*

There was absolutely no sign of that wretched bastard anywhere in the immediate vicinity. I knit my brows together in pure bewilderment. How on earth could he tell me to enter and then completely vanish from existence?

Suddenly, his freezing, detached voice violently shattered my thoughts. "Miss Miller, are you waiting for a second invitation?"

I spun around with extreme speed toward the source of the voice, locating him standing right at the threshold of a massive walk-in closet. He was clad in a tightly fitted black button-down shirt paired with classic black trousers. Every single one of my facial features contorted in deep condemnation. Does this wretched lunatic genuinely wear formal attire even inside his own home?!

"Hello, Mr. Vincenti," I said, trying to force my tone to sound entirely natural despite the immense disorientation rocking my senses. "I didn’t realize you were standing inside."

He anchored a pair of piercing, razor-sharp eyes upon my frame eyes that accepted absolutely no shred of debate or argument. He stated in a commanding, absolute ultimatum: "Come here."