I looked around the big room, as I wrapped up my thoughts. Everything was perfect, right from the soft bed, to the fancy furniture, and the expensive clothes in the closet. It looked nice, but it still didn't feel like home. It felt like a cage.
I walked to the window and pushed the curtain aside.
I took a deep breath.
Even if I ran, where would I go? The guards would catch me before I could even get far.
But still, where there is no way at all I still have to find a way.
Then, suddenly, the door opened.
I jumped.
A maid walked in, holding a tray of food. She placed it on the table without looking at me.
"Mr. Clair asked me to bring you breakfast," she said in a quiet voice.
I looked at the food. It smelled nice, but I wasn't hungry.
The maid hesitated, then added, "He also said you should come downstairs after eating."
I swallowed hard. "Why?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, Miss."
I nodded, and she quickly left, closing the door behind her.
I stared at the tray. My stomach felt empty, but I had no appetite.
Still, I forced myself to eat a little. I needed strength.
After a few bites, I stood up and walked to the closet. There were too many clothes, all new, all expensive. Not one of them was mine.
I grabbed a simple dress and changed quickly. Then, taking a deep breath, I walked out of the room.
When I reached the stairs, I saw him, Carson Clair. He was waiting at the bottom. His hands in his pockets, his face calm.
"Good morning, Annabelle," he said.
I nodded. "Good morning."
"Come," he said, turning toward the dining room.
I followed.
He sat and I sat opposite him.
"You didn't try to run," he said.
I looked up at him. "Would it have made a difference?"
He smirked. "No. It wouldn't have."
I swallowed.
He leaned forward slightly. "You are my wife now, Annabelle. That means you belong to me. And I don't like betrayal."
His voice was calm, but that made it even scarier.
I forced myself to ask, "What do you want from me?"
The word made my skin crawl.
I dropped my fork. My hands felt sweaty. "And if I don't obey?"
Carson played with his hair, watching me like I was a puzzle he had already solved.
"You will, there's no choice but to obey."
His voice was so sure, like he had already decided my future.
He thinks I will obey. He thinks I have no choice.
Maybe he was right.
For now.
*********
Carson's eyes stayed on me, like he will be holding me captive for the rest of my life, and waiting for me to accept being held hostage by him.
But I wouldn't.
I picked up my fork again, forcing myself to take a bite of food. I chewed slowly, my mind racing.
I needed to think. I needed to find a way to survive in this house, in this marriage.
Carson wasn't just powerful, he was dangerous and influential. And dangerous men don't lose.
"Good," he said, watching me eat. "You're learning fast."
I swallowed the food, forcing a small smile. "And what exactly am I learning?"
His smirk deepened. "That fighting me is useless."
I held his gaze, my heart pounding. "Maybe I'm just waiting for the right moment."
His eyes darkened just a little. Just enough for me to know I had said something he didn't expect.
A long silence stretched between us. Then, slowly, Carson leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.
"Tell me, Annabelle," he said, his voice soft but full of meaning. "Do you know what happens to people who wait for the right moment?"
I didn't answer.
His smirk returned. "They never get it."
I was shocked, but I kept my face calm.
"So, is that a threat?" I asked.
He chuckled. "No. It's a lesson."
I forced myself to take another bite, even though I had lost my appetite completely.
I had to stay calm. I had to think.
Carson was smart. He could read people. But he wasn't a mind reader. He didn't know what was in my head.
And that was my only advantage.
I finished my food in silence. When I placed my fork down, Carson stood up.
"Follow me," he said.
I hesitated, but I knew I had no choice.
I followed him out of the dining room, down a long hallway. The house was beautiful, but it felt empty. There were guards at every corner, their eyes straight ahead, their hands near their guns.
Carson led me to a set of large wooden doors. He pushed them open and stepped inside.
I followed.
The room was different and he handed me a key.
I held the key tightly, my mind spinning with questions. What did it open? Why did he give it to me?
Carson watched me, his eyes sharp. "Use it wisely," he said.
I nodded, not trusting my voice. I had to be careful. If this was a test, I couldn't fail.
Standing up, Carson walked to the door. "You'll figure it out soon."
Then he left.
I stared at the key in my hand, my heart pounding.
Was this my way out? Or was it another trap?
Either way, I had to find out.
And I had to be ready.