Chapter 5 The Mansion's First Lock

"Slow down, Doll. I'm not going to do anything. I'm sorry about earlier," he said in a low, calm voice.

I didn't listen. I continued eating quickly, though I tried to make it less obvious. The silence between us made the atmosphere even more awkward. But I didn't mind, as long as he didn't speak to me. At least the household staff were still around-someone to keep me company, even slightly.

"I want you to stop working, Doll," he said. His words sent a chill down my spine.

My eyes widened as I processed what he had just said. He wants me to stop modeling?

"What? No! Why would I stop modeling?" I muttered, my voice barely controlled.

His eyes narrowed. "Because I want you to. I don't want you to work."

"Then what will happen to me? If I don't work, I won't have money. I can't buy what I want, what I need," I argued, panic rising in my chest. Modeling was my dream. How could I just let it go?

"I'll take care of that. I'll provide for you. You won't have to work. You'll just tire yourself unnecessarily. Don't worry. I'll give you whatever you desire. Your whims, your needs... I'll buy everything you want. I'm your husband. You don't need to worry."

In a sudden burst of frustration, I slammed my utensils down, creating a loud clatter. His gaze dropped to my plate, his forehead furrowing at my sudden outburst. My heart jumped as I realized what I'd done. A maid hurried over to clean the mess, and I immediately felt a pang of fear-would he hurt me or yell at me for this?

I looked down. My hands were trembling. If my parents weren't here to scold me, then this terrifying man surely would.

"I-I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I'm sorry," I mumbled. Before I could even feel his anger, I turned and ran upstairs to my room.

I hoped he wouldn't hurt me. I pressed my palm to my face and sat at the edge of the bed. When the door opened, I instinctively recoiled, moving back until I hit the headboard.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I-I didn't mean to-please don't be mad-" My voice trembled, full of fear. He hushed me and walked closer, sitting on the bed and gently holding me.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not mad, Doll. I'll never get mad at you. Calm down," he said softly, removing my hand from my face.

"I didn't mean to do that. I-I'm just shocked. Please don't tell my parents," I whispered.

His eyes softened as he watched my fear. He looked pained, almost guilty. He exhaled and placed both hands on my waist, pulling me closer. I immediately pushed away, lying down and turning my back to him, closing my eyes tightly.

He sighed. "I'm sorry. Don't be mad, Doll. But I can't let you work. Stay here, in our home," he said almost in a whisper.

I felt him leave the bed, and my heart continued to pound in my chest. I forced myself to sleep, and eventually, I did.

I woke up feeling exhausted. Morning had come, yet I still felt drowsy. My sleep, however, had been surprisingly pleasant-his bed was warm and carried his masculine scent. I looked around-no sign of him. Maybe he hadn't slept here. Good. I didn't care.

I got out of bed and took a shower. An hour later, I stepped out of the bathroom wearing a white sleeveless bodycon dress that highlighted my curves and revealed part of my back. I layered a coat over it.

I looked elegant, as always.

My shoulders slumped when I remembered I couldn't work. I walked toward my vanity mirror, gazing at my glittery makeup set-silver with sparkles covering the mirror, table, and chair. I loved glitter.

But how did he know? Mom, perhaps.

No more runways. No more photoshoots. I was so close to achieving my dream-and now this.

I sighed and left my room, descending the stairs. A maid approached immediately.

"Madame, your meal is ready." I shook my head.

"I don't want to eat, Jesel. I have somewhere to go," I said. She frowned.

"You'll get in trouble with Sir if you don't eat. He said you should," she said firmly.

"Just tell him I don't want to eat."

"And where are you going? Does Sir know?"

I ignored her question and left. I hoped Mom and Dad were present so I could tell them Niccolo was forbidding me from working.

Upon entering the mansion, the maids were clearly surprised to see me.

"Where are Mom and Dad?" I asked.

"Madame is in her office," they replied.

I headed straight to her office.

"I have something to tell you, Mom," I said, my voice tinged with frustration. Her brows rose in surprise.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in your husband's mansion. What brings you here?"

I took a deep breath, stepping closer. "Mom, do you know what Niccolo told me? He's insane! He wants me to quit modeling. He doesn't want me to work-"

"Tone it down. You're at it again-uncontrolled. And what's the problem? If he wants you to stop working, then so be it," she said, unconcerned with my career.

My mouth fell open. "I-I thought you wanted me to be a model, Mom! Then why are you okay with this today?" She was unbelievable. She had witnessed all my hard work-and now, she seemed to disregard it completely! I pursued modeling because I believed it suited me. I didn't mind her controlling me back then-it was all part of entering the modeling world.

She rose from her chair and walked toward me.

"I should ask you that. What's wrong today? I thought you didn't want modeling. And now you sulk because he wants you to stop? Sadie, consider yourself lucky. Niccolo doesn't want you to work-it means he only wants you home, resting. He cares for you, Sadie. That's what wives should do. You must take care of him. Wait for him until he comes home. Serve him."