Chapter 5 Serve me in bed

Liliana slipped into the simple dress that had been laid out on the bed, her hands moving mechanically as she dried her hair and brushed it smooth.

Her thoughts, however, were far from mundane tasks. She hadn't seen Valerian since the unsettling encounter in the washroom when she had accidentally caught sight of him naked. The memory of it made her skin prickle with anxiety. Had she crossed a line? Was he furious with her?

"Should I go downstairs or stay here?" Liliana murmured to herself, the uncertainty gnawing at her. Just then, a knock sounded at the door. Before she could respond, it creaked open, and a maid stepped inside.

"Good morning, Madam. The Master wishes to see you downstairs," the maid informed her, her tone polite but firm.

Liliana felt a jolt of fear but quickly nodded, following the maid without hesitation. The last thing she wanted was to be late and incur Valerian's wrath. As she descended the carpeted staircase, her eyes fell on Valerian, seated alone on the central couch.

He was an imposing figure, his presence commanding the entire room. The maid excused herself once they reached the bottom of the stairs, leaving Liliana standing frozen in place, her feet seemingly glued to the floor.

The memories of last night came rushing back-how he had tested her obedience, pushing her to the brink. The mere thought of what might come next filled her with dread.

Valerian tilted his head slightly, his gaze landing on Liliana. He noticed how she nervously fidgeted with her fingers, a sure sign of her fear.

"Why are you standing there?" His deep voice, though not loud, echoed in her ears. "Come here. Quickly."

Liliana's feet moved on their own, carrying her to the couch where Valerian sat. Yet, she remained standing, knowing better than to assume she was allowed to sit without permission. She understood her place in this household all too well-a slave, or perhaps something even less.

"Sit," Valerian ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She hesitated for a brief second before obeying, lowering herself onto the sofa chair across from him. Her heart hammered in her chest, the sound almost deafening in her ears. Every instinct told her to remain small and silent, to avoid drawing any more of his attention than necessary.

Valerian's gaze lingered on her, studying her with an unreadable expression. His presence was overwhelming, a constant reminder of the power he held over her. Liliana dared not look up, focusing instead on the pattern of the carpet beneath her feet, as if it could offer some escape.

"I am-"

"Why are there-"

Their voices overlapped, causing them both to pause awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," Liliana quickly murmured, her eyes dropping to the floor.

Valerian's eyes narrowed as he leaned forward this time, his voice laced with concern as he asked, "Why are there bruises on your body?"

Liliana's breath caught in her throat. Her mind flashed back to the moment she woke up this morning, feeling an unfamiliar fabric against her skin. She had been dressed in a different gown, one she didn't remember putting on. Did Valerian see the marks? Did he change her clothes? The questions swirled in her head, leaving her unsettled.

Before she could piece together her thoughts, Valerian's voice broke through, pulling her back to the present. "Last night," he began, his tone softer but still serious, "I had to call a doctor to examine you. She noticed the bruises and asked me about them."

Liliana looked up, her eyes wide with astonishment. Why would Valerian care enough to call a doctor? He told her how much he hated her and she had to pay for the crimes her family committed. The realization left her feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way she hadn't expected.

Valerian's patience seemed to wear thin as he noticed her silence. His frustration surfaced, evident in the way his brow furrowed. "Why are you mute again? Speak!" he demanded, his voice sharp with irritation. "Have you been abused by your family?"

His words struck a chord deep within her, the directness of his question unraveling something fragile inside her. Liliana's heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, she felt the weight of all the years of suffering she had endured.

"Yes," she finally whispered, her voice trembling with the confession.

"Did Rowan do that?" Valerian asked, his voice low but intense.

"Sometimes," Liliana answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Other times, it would be his girlfriend, the servants in the house, and even his friends." She paused, the weight of her next words pressing down on her. "You said you would torture me the same way. Why don't you just kill me instead? I don't want to live anymore." Her voice cracked as she confessed her despair.

Her last glimmer of hope had been the share of her grandfather's inheritance, but even that had been taken from her by Rowan. With nothing left to cling to, Liliana felt the crushing weight of hopelessness. There was no future, no chance of peace.

"What did you just say?" Valerian's jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he processed her words.

Liliana froze, a surge of fear coursing through her. She had seen that look before, the one that preceded pain. Desperately, she stammered an apology, hoping it would placate him, hoping it would prevent what she knew was coming.

"Stop saying sorry all the time," Valerian snapped, his frustration evident. "And don't think you can escape this easily. You don't get to die yet. You've still got a hell to endure, so prepare yourself."

Liliana's eyes welled up with tears. She wanted to ask him why he was doing this, why he wouldn't just let her go. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions, but the words caught in her throat.

Valerian's gaze bore into her, unyielding and cold. "And I forgave you last night for slapping me. But if you ever do that again, the consequences won't be as forgiving. You'll pay for that with your body." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper.

"Tonight, you will serve me in bed. I expect no hesitation from you. Do you understand?"

Liliana nodded weakly, unable to break eye contact, though every part of her wanted to shrink away, to disappear. The tears that threatened to spill over remained unshed, held back by the sheer force of her fear.