Stolen Identity: Mute Heiress-Chapter 136: Confused

Callan had barely ended the call with his assistant when Emily stepped out with a shopping bag.

He could tell she had picked up the first dress she had seen. She was never the type to worry much about what she was wearing.

"Did you find something you like?" He asked as she got into the car.

"Yeah. They have lots of nice stuff. Thanks," she muttered as she fastened her seatbelt and adjusted into a comfortable position.

As Callan restarted the car, she shut her eyes, pretending to sleep to ward off any further conversation.

She opened her eyes and looked up when the car finally slowed and turned into a quiet street lined with tall trees and neat sidewalks, Emily blinked and straightened a little.

Callan pressed a button, and a large black gate rolled open ahead of them. His house sat behind it. Big, elegant and cold like its owner.

Callan drove in and parked beneath a wide carport where two other cars were parked. He stepped out without a word and went to get her luggage from the trunk.

She didn’t move.

So this was it? She was really going to be living here alone with Callan for the next six months? Could she do it?

God help her.

Callan rounded the car, and opened her door like a chauffeur.

"You don’t have to look like it’s a prison sentence. Surely I’m not that bad," he said when he saw the look on her face.

Without saying a word, Emily slowly got out of the car with her handbag and the shopping bag. She was not in the mood for any more back and forth with him.

She followed Callan as he wheeled her suitcase toward the front door and unlocked the door.

Inside, the air was cool. The walls were white. The floor was dark wood. No pictures, just paintings and furniture. The place lacked warmth.

"I guess you do not approve," Callan observed.

"Where is my room?" She asked, reaching for her suitcase.

Callan set her suitcase down and gestured down the hallway. "Second door on the left. There’s a desk, closet, whatever. Wi-Fi password’s on the fridge. I’ll text you the door passcode. Help yourself."

"And your room? I hope it is far enough from mine. I don’t want to have to hear or see anything disgusting," she said, and Callan sighed inwardly.

"You won’t have to worry about that, your highness," he said in a mocking tone.

Emily didn’t say a word as she walked away. Callan watched her walk off with her suitcase, and for a brief moment he regretted having the cleaner throw out the undies in the guest room.

He would have loved for her to see it.

When was she going to stop being so childish anyway? It wasn’t like he had done anything wrong.

With a deep sigh Callan headed for his bedroom. After taking off his clothes and changing into something more casual, he picked up his phone, wallet and car keys and headed out.

Just as he stepped out of his room, he saw Emily in the hallway, "What’s for breakfast?" She asked since it was still morning and she wanted to eat before unpacking and getting some rest.

"There’s food and snacks in the fridge. The housekeeper comes twice a week. You can also check the pantry. Whatever you choose. Make yourself at home," Callan said as he walked past her.

"Where are you going?" She asked, noticing that he had changed his clothes and seemed to be going out.

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"Out where?"

Callan took a deep breath as if she was testing his patience. "Away from you. Giving you enough space so you can be comfortable. I’ll be at a hotel. You can call me if you need something. If that would be too hard for you, I’d text you my assistant’s number. You can call him and he’ll handle whatever you need," he said, and her brows pulled together.

"It’s your house. It doesn’t make sense for you to leave..."

"It doesn’t have to make sense. I spend most of my time at the hotel anyway. So, feel at home," he cut in.

"So, you’re just going to leave like this when I just got here..."

"For God’s sake, Emily, make up your mind. What do you want me to do? I said we could live peacefully and forget the past, you said I should go to hell. I tried to get along with you all through the drive but all my effort was rebuffed. Now I’m letting you stay here in peace and giving you space, and that’s still not enough?" His voice was calm, but annoyed.

"I’m just saying you don’t have to leave your house. My room is enough space for me," she said with a frown.

"Well, it’s not enough for me. I’m pretty sure you’d find a reason to be mad if you see me anywhere around the house. So you can have all the space, silence, and distance you need."

Emily folded her arms, standing in the middle of the hallway her feet bare. "I’m not mad at you," she said quietly.

Callan gave a short, humorless laugh. "Could’ve fooled me." He started walking again, brushing past her.

Emily turned to follow him. "I never asked you to leave your house. I just don’t want to fight."

He stopped by the front door and looked over his shoulder. "Then stop picking one with me every time I breathe or talk to you. I have no desire to fight with you."

"You are the one who is always being annoying," Emily said, arms still crossed, weight shifting on her feet.

"I tease you and talk to you the exact same way I talk to Mari, Jamal and Stefan. The others can take a joke and give it back," he said, and she raised a brow.

"And I can’t take one?"

"Your words, not mine. Maybe you need to loosen up a little and stop taking me so seriously. I bet if Jamal says the exact things I say to you, you wouldn’t want to bite off his head," Callan said as he opened the door.

She didn’t reply. Just stared at him with unreadable eyes.

Sunlight poured in behind him. He stepped out but paused before pulling the door shut.

"And Emily?" His voice softened just a little. "Stop making a big deal out of this arrangement. Six months isn’t such a long time."

The door clicked shut behind him and then he was gone.