I'm reading a book on my bed when a knock on my door startles me.

"Miss Nevaeh." It's Ian's voice.

I close the book and walk to the door. When I open it, Ian's smile greets me. "Dinner is ready."

He walks off, and I follow him to the dining room. When I step into the place, the foods served on the table make my mouth water.

However, it feels unfitting to eat all of these wonderful dishes alone.

"Where's Aiden?" I ask as Ian walks into the kitchen.

"He's supposed to be here by now," he says. "Earlier today, he said that he would be joining you for dinner."

That information makes a smile touch my lips. Unlike yesterday when Aiden was stuck with work until late at night, he apparently won't miss his dinner tonight.

I take a seat, rest my chin on my palms, and wait for him. I have no idea why I'm smiling, perhaps it's because I remember him saying that he liked my cooking. Maybe I should try another new recipe?

Minutes pass, but Aiden still hasn't come into sight that I'm starting to worry about the food getting cold.

"Is he in the library?" I stretch my neck toward the kitchen, expecting Ian to answer me from behind the counter.

But the old man is nowhere in sight.

I decide to find the answer myself and walk out of the dining room. While I'm making my way to Aiden's home office, I glance at my wristwatch.

He must be there. He's usually there at this hour when he's not in the office.

When I arrive in front of the door, I notice that it's slightly opened. Carefully, I peek inside. "Aiden?"

I'm surprised to find that the room is empty. I sigh before walking away.

I pass his bedroom and knock on the door, but there's no answer.

"Ma'am," someone interrupts me.

A maid is walking in my direction, ready to assist me. "Are you looking for Mr. Klein?" I nod, and she continues, "I think he left his room a while ago."

My eyebrows shoot up.

If he'd been on his way to have dinner, we would have bumped into each other. Where did he go?

I continue walking, and when I turn around the corner, I find a room that catches my attention. His art room.

The door is closed.

"Aiden?" I call, only to have no response.

Is he painting? That might be why he loses track of time.

Slowly, I turn the handle of the door. Even though I don't find Aiden, the sight before me takes my breath away again that I don't feel like walking off.

I find that some of the paintings placed in this room are different than the ones I saw when I first came here. Has he painted new ones?

Curious and amazed, I step further into the room to explore more. Just like last time, my heart feels warm just by looking at these beautiful paintings of people and landscapes. He's truly a great artist, isn't he?

I come to a halt when I find a picture of a house. It looks different than the other paintings. The texture isn't as smooth, but it's still a beautiful artwork.

The house is so big to the point that it can be called a mega-mansion, but it doesn't look intimidating. It looks welcoming and warm.

I've heard that Klein Residence is one of the biggest properties in New York. Did he paint his home back then?

My gaze darts on small handwriting in the bottom corner of the painting. There's Aiden's signature and the year he painted it.

It was painted 20 years ago, and I can't help but let out soft laughter. It's really adorable that my heart feels like bursting. Little Aiden was so talented, and he's even more so now.

I make a note to myself to never let him see me drawing stick people -- he might faint because of how horrible it is.

I continue my steps and find a counter with a set of clay pots on it. One of them catches my attention because the color is slightly different and the design is unique. Carefully, I pick it up with both of my hands to see the whole surface, moving it around very slowly.

Gosh. Be careful, Nevaeh. Don't drop this.

I'm pretty sure that it's handmade, and it might cost a lot.

I squint as I find something placed inside the pot. It's something... shiny, and folded.

But the vase opening is too small for my hand to reach it. Besides, I know that I shouldn't touch people's things.

Just when I'm about to place the pot back, my elbow almost knocks another pot. That causes me to abruptly adjust the pot in my hands, and to my horror, it slips.

And it falls. Shatters on the floor.

The sound is so loud that it might be enough to send people here to witness my stupidity.

My eyes are wide in shock. My hands are shaking.

What have I done?

Stupid, stupid Nevaeh.

I just destroyed a precious artwork. I just destroyed someone's hard work, which belongs to Aiden. How am I going to apologize to him?

Now that the pot is broken, I can see the thing that was hidden inside it. Slowly, I bend down and pick it up. It's a card.

I freeze, feeling like I want to disappear. It's even worse that it was a gift from her that I destroyed.

Why did I always have to cause more chaos?

"What the hell are you doing here?"

My heart almost stops as I feel movement from the door. There, Aiden is standing.

He looks angry, but he looks even more enraged when he notices what happened.

He storms into the room and stares in utter disbelief at the broken clay pot. His fist is clenched tightly at his side, as though he's trying to not explode.

I've never seen him so furious, and my stomach churns.

"Why are you here? I made it clear to you to never step into this place," he speaks through gritted teeth.

I shake my head, feeling a sudden lump in my throat. I remember him telling me that there's one room in this house that can't be entered.

"I'm sorry," I stutter. "I didn't know. I didn't know that it was this room."

He frowns, but the look he tosses me is still full of fury. He's seething, and that makes me want to cry.

I'd never thought that I would have made such a huge mistake. I just wanted to tell him to not forget his dinner. What was I doing instead?

"Didn't Ashton tell you to stay out of this room?"

My silence and cluelessness confirm his assumptions. He scoffs.

"He didn't, huh?" he says in a low voice. "I'll definitely talk to him."

Now I can't help but worry about Ashton. Even though it was Ashton's fault for not telling me, I don't want him to lose his job.

Aiden bends down to clean the mess I've created. His back is facing me when he picks the broken pieces. His shoulders are shaking, and my heart breaks even more.

"I'm sorry that I broke it," I whisper with guilt laced in my voice.

I bend down next to him to help him. This is my fault. I should be the one who clean this and fix everything. I would do anything to repair the clay pot if he wants, although I don't know if that's possible.

"Let me--"

He snaps my hand off, and a sharp pain stings me.

"Leave," he hisses while I can only stare at him with tearful eyes. "Now."