CHAPTER 4

Kimberley POV:

 I woke to sharp sunlight streaming through the window, forcing my eyes open. Disoriented, I blinked against the brightness. How had I fallen asleep so deeply? I scolded myself—this is unlike me.

A knock came at the door, and before I could respond, it opened. I tensed, bracing myself for the "Don"—the one whose name I didn’t yet know. But the voice that greeted me was female.

“Good morning, ma’am,” she said curtly. “I’m Helen. I’ve been assigned as your personal maid.”

I looked up, my relief barely contained. At least she was younger, with a face that seemed capable of a smile, unlike the stern, older woman who had attended to me yesterday.

“Mr. Fiore requests you come downstairs. He’s expecting you,” she continued. “I’m here to get you ready.”

"Mr. Fore?" I muttered, almost too loudly. "What sort of name is that?"

She stiffened slightly. "Fiore, ma’am," she corrected quickly, then added, “Please, let me help you prepare.”

She looked chatty, eager even, but I swallowed my questions. There’d be time to earn her trust. For now, I needed to keep my thoughts to myself—until I could use her to learn more about the monsters holding me here.

I slid out of bed and walked toward the bathroom, Helen following close behind.

“Don’t,” I said, cutting her off as I reached the doorway. “I don’t need your help here. Just lay out the clothes.”

The bathroom was enormous, easily larger than both my father’s sitting room and kitchen combined. I caught myself comparing the two spaces and immediately pushed the thought away. What good would it do to dwell on what was behind me? My fingers shook as I ran the bath.

By the time I returned, Helen had placed a light floral gown on the bed—a strapless dress paired with a jacket. It was delicate, soft. Strangely beautiful, given the circumstances. I changed silently and followed her downstairs, every step weighed down by thoughts of escape. My eyes roamed, searching for exits, but no clear path emerged.

In the sitting room, I found him. Mr. Fore or whatever sat at the end of the room, reading a newspaper, And I wondered who still reads newspapers these days.

I stood waiting for him to speak.

He finally acknowledged my presence and dropped the newspaper. He lowered the paper and glanced at me. His gaze swept from my dress to my face, unreadable.

“Our wedding is in three days,” he said flatly. “You’ll go with my sister and Enzo to the bridal mall and get yourself a wedding dress.”

I blinked. "A wedding? In ninety six hours?"

“You're not here to plan Kimberley, You're here to marry” He said curtly.

The words sank into me like a stone dropped into dark water. I was about to be bound to a man I loathed, a man who’d taken everything from me.

And your sister?" I asked instead.

"She'll be here by evening."

I made a mental note to be overly nice to his sister, then I will plan an escape or something to just get out of this madness.

I just hope his sister isn't just like him. But I can't stretch my luck, she might just be as evil

He rose from his chair, the movement slow, deliberate. “Don’t play smart, Kimberly. You won’t get far.”

His warning lingered in the air as he walked out, leaving me standing there, helpless.

I couldn’t escape—yet. Not without knowing where I was, how this house worked. First, I needed to learn its layout.

I was going back to my room, I found Helen waiting by the doorway. An idea sparked.

“Helen, how long have you worked here?” I asked, watching her closely.

“Thirteen years, ma’am,” she said, bowing her head slightly.

Perfect. A seasoned servant would know every corner of this mansion.

“Could you give me a tour of the house?” I asked, feigning interest. Desperation edged my voice, but Helen didn’t seem to notice.

“Of course, ma’am. It would be my pleasure.”

She led the way, As I followed her down the grand staircase, my eyes darted to the windows, the doors. Every route a potential escape, if only I had the chance.”

 My eyes scanning every room, every hallway. The mansion was enormous, each turn more extravagant than the last. But I saw no hidden doors, no promising exits. 

Helen was nice, and a good guide. Showing me places. The mansion was big and we were soon tired. I don't know if it's worth it, 'as I didn't see any "secret door."

Guess I would just have to try to find away myself. Alone.

I was soon hungry, Helen brought my food to my room after I had a shower. But the sight of the food made my hunger disappear.

How could I eat? My brother was in their grasp, my father dead—had they even buried him? I didn’t know. Was anyone mourning him? And here I was, forced into a marriage with the very man who had destroyed my life.

I stared at the untouched food, my mind spiralling deeper. 

I remember The office. Elicia. The debt. Everything. I couldn’t even tell how long I’d been lost in thought until Helen returned to call me for lunch as Mr Fiore requested for my presence. Her eyes flicked to the uneaten breakfast and back to me. She sighed softly, though she tried to hide it.

“I’m not hungry,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

It doesn't have to do with the food," I tried assuring her. "I'm just not hungry."

"Can't he eat alone," I sighed.

Helen retreated sluggishly, looking scared. But I didn't care.

A moment later, the door creaked open again.

I froze.

He was standing there. Mr. Fiore. His eyes swept over me, taking in the sight of me wrapped in only a towel as I had not changed into any cloth since my last shower.

 His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and something in his expression shifted. His jaw tightened, his Adam's apple bobbed.

Hey!" I screamed. He stood in the doorway, watching me, as if weighing a decision. Each step he took toward me felt deliberate, like a predator circling prey. My hands flew up, instinctive, protective. 'Don’t touch me!' My voice cracked with panic. 

He paused, clearly not expecting my outburst. His movements slowed, the predatory glint in his eyes dimming.

“Get dressed,” he

said coldly. “My sister is downstairs.”

And then, just as abruptly as he came, he turned and left.