Lena's POV
I hadn't seen Raymond since breakfast, and boredom soon crept in, so I decided to explore his house.
I entered one of the closed rooms and was instantly amazed. The room was filled with artworks from several famous artists. In the center stood a covered canvas, surrounded by an arrangement that suggested someone actually painted there. It made me wonder—was Raymond an artist, or did he simply have a deep love for art?
As I explored further, I came across a section displaying about nine artworks of the same woman.
She was breathtaking—hazel eyes, blonde hair, and a beauty that looked unreal, like a real-life model. She had the kind of look any man would die for.
Yet, the longer I stared at her, the more uneasy I felt. I didn't know who she was, but something about her made my chest tighten. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort whenever I looked at her.
That discovery ruined my curiosity. I was no longer interested in seeing anything else, so I left the room.
By the time I stepped out, it was already past noon. I decided to return to my room and rest.
As I lay on the bed, everything that had happened since I met Raymond replayed in my mind—including the unanswered questions from that morning. Why did he want to know the reason my father hated me? Did he see me as some pitiful kitten… just like he always called me?
I frowned. I hated that nickname, but he refused to stop using it. Maybe I should come up with one for him too.
I didn't even realize when I started smiling.
Maybe I should just call him Mr. Handsome.
"Yeah, I think you should. It's perfect for me."
Only one person could have said that.
I turned my head toward the door, and there he was—standing with his hands in his pockets, a small smile playing on his lips.
"Who said the name was for you?" I said quickly. "I wasn't talking about you."
"It's okay," he replied calmly. "You can lie all you want, kitten."
I was about to retort when he cut me short.
"I had Bertha bring in a dress earlier, but she said you weren't in. Did you go out for a walk?"
"Yes," I blurted out. "I went to the garden to admire your flowers. They're very beautiful."
I didn't know why I lied, but I suspected it had something to do with the artwork of that gorgeous woman.
"That's fine," he said. "We can check out the mini movie theater later tonight after you get dressed. But don't ever go into the art studio."
I nodded, but he seemed to want a verbal response.
"I won't go in there," I promised.
"Alright, kitten. Bathe and get dressed. When you're ready, come to my office. I have something prepared for us this evening."
I hurried into the bathroom. After bathing and washing my hair, I went into the closet to pick a dress—and my mouth dropped open.
One entire section of the closet had been cleared of Raymond's clothes and replaced with women's clothing. There were designer outfits everywhere—office wear, ball gowns, casual dresses, lingerie, and dinner gowns. Every single item was brand new, with price tags still attached.
I checked one of the tags and nearly fainted.
On the table were makeup products from top brands, along with beautifully packaged jewelry.
When Raymond said Bertha had prepared a gown for me, I never expected anything like this.
I owned a construction company, but even I couldn't afford this level of extravagance without going bankrupt.
I dried and styled my hair, then applied light makeup. It felt as though Raymond had prepared everything beforehand.
After much deliberation, I chose a short red strapless gown with a daring slit between my breasts and an open back. I paired it with diamond earrings and strapless heels to complete the look.
When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was shocked. I looked beautiful—stunning, even. I couldn't wait for Raymond to see me.
As I stepped out of the closet, I found him sitting on the bed, fully dressed. He wore a black shirt beneath a blazer, his hair perfectly slicked back. His body was built like a hanger—he looked good in anything.
He looked up at me, and I held my breath, hoping he wouldn't criticize my outfit.
Instead, he smiled.
"You look beautiful, kitten."
"Thank you," I replied. For the first time, I didn't hate the nickname.
"You look handsome too," I blurted out without thinking.
"Thank you, my love," he said softly, draping a white fur jacket over my shoulders.
He took my hand, and together we went downstairs.
Outside, a sleek black Rolls-Royce was parked, with a driver dressed in an all-black suit waiting by the door. My heart fluttered as Raymond guided me to the car. The driver opened the door, and Raymond helped me inside before joining me.
We drove to one of the newly opened hotels in town—Hyacinth Hove. The building shimmered in shades of purple, glittering beautifully under the night lights.
I had always dreamed of coming here, but I could never afford it. Paying for a decent meal at Starlight Hotel had already felt outrageous.
Memories of Evans flooded my mind—how I had almost destroyed my life savings just to please him, sponsoring his lavish parties, including the last one that nearly ruined my life.
I didn't realize I had zoned out until Raymond's voice pulled me back.
"Let's go, kitten. We're here."
He extended his hand, and I placed mine in his.
I smiled as we walked into the hotel, realizing that—apart from my mother—this was the first time in my twenty-two years of life that anyone had ever taken care of me the way Raymond had in just two days.
I promised myself to enjoy every moment of this night—and any other nights like it.