Vindictive Dr Rhys

9. Dwelling In The Past.

He stirred on the bed with the sheets covered around his body. Every inch of his muscle felt numb and drained. A sharp pain hit his forehead, urging a growl out of his lips.

Fucking hangover.

He brought his right hand to his head and mumbled curses under his breath.

"Good morning, Master. What would you like for me to do for you today?" Curella questions her sound, piercing his ears.

He hissed, putting the pillow on his face, with a feeble groan. "No." He mumbled, knowing that if he didn't reply, she'd go on with her questions, which would only irritate him further.

"Okay, but you should know that your sister is approaching," she says.

His eyes instantly split open. "Whatever you do, do not give her access," he warns.

"Angela has access to my security panels."

Rhys curses; of course she does. It's Angela, after all; she always finds her way in and out of his affairs or belongings.

Rhys could tell one or two things why she's here: either mom sent her to check up on him or

His thoughts