CHAPTER FIVE.

 ELEANOR’S POV.

 

 I could hardly believe my sight accuracy the second it landed on this beautiful stranger staring back at me in the mirror. She looked like me but was me. She didn't look anything like the usual me.

 

“I'm sure your husband will like this.” The she-wolf with the Blond hair said, but I responded with nothing as I pinned my lips firmly.

 

I wasn't sure of what to say. 

 

Should I call him my Master or my Pretend Alpha?

 

He bought me, after all.

 

“You good?” She said after some seconds, her eyes accessing me as though she was trying to read me like a book.

 

I thought of telling her my predicament, but no thank you. 

 

What was she going to do about it? Ask me to run away.

 

I had no one out there waiting for me, and I had nowhere to go.

 

“I’m fine,” I responded and sent her a smile bright enough for her to believe me. She returned the smile.

“We should leave now,” I informed them, not wanting her to ask me more questions.

She nodded gently, and we walked out of the room.

 

I saw him move in his seat the second I got there. I saw something flash in his eyes, but it was gone too quickly like it never came.

 

He said nothing to me. He just paid and stepped out with me walking behind him. They brought the bags out to place them in the car's boot, about five loads.

 

Was it weird that I expected some compliments of some sort? 

 

I remember Lucien always giving me a good comment every time I dress up in a new dress. Now that I thought of it. 

 

What if he never meant it?

 

Aside from that, on the days that we made love, he whispered ‘I love you’ to me. 

 

What exactly went through his mind? What white face did he feel every time he was thrusting into me? Did he see Diana?

 

I let out a soft inaudible sigh and shove the painful thoughts to the back of my mind.

 

The driver pulled the door open for him, and he stepped in; he held it available for me, and I stepped in as well. 

 

“Thank you,” I muttered silently and sent him a faint smile. He smiled back and closed the door. 

 

I caught the frown in Master’s eyes.

 

“You are not allowed to say a word to anyone unless I want you to, understood?” He said, his voice firm and composed, yet it held this edge that I couldn’t put the finger on or describe.

 

I swallowed the big lump of saliva that had crawled up my throat into my almost dry mouth and nodded in response. I was scared to say a word because he didn’t permit me to do so.

 

“You can talk.” He said, his voice harsh.

 

“Yes…Master.” I stammered. My eyes now stare at my new heels and newly painted toenails.

 

“Good.” He added, “You can call that in private, but call me Cruz in public.” He ordered.

 

“Okay Ma…Cr…Cruz.” I stammered.

 

He stared at me hard, sending me a questioning look, then looked away. The rest of the drive was a quiet one.

 

Soon we stopped in front of two gigantic Black gates, then waited for the guards to pull them open before the driver drove it. The place looked so big and beautiful, water running from a fountain with the stature of a naked she-wolf hanging on it. Almost half of the area had green trees, adding to its beauty. I was tempted to turn my head to take in more details, but I didn’t, not knowing what he might say to that.

 

Do I need permission for that too? Should I ask?

 

I shove the thoughts aside, not lifting my eyes from my feet.

 

The car parked in front of the big building painted Black; the Driver stepped down from the car to open the door for us, letting us out. I was about to mutter another “Thank you” when I remembered his order, so I said nothing and walked past him.

 

We walked in, two hefty guards standing at the side of each door holding the door open for us. It made me feel like Royalty again, and I loved it. 

 

“Good day, Master.” They greeted. He barely responded to some and the others, and he did with a nod. It made me wonder if this would be him every day.

 

Different artwork was hanging in almost every part of the house, only that they were all black and White. They lacked any color, and I was curious to know why. The flowers that stood elegantly in the vases were always Black.

 

Was that his best color?

 

I thought.

 

We continued up the stairs leading to the upper part of the house. There was enough light emanating from the bulbs and chandeliers that hung above, so it was easier to differentiate one place from another. Aside from the doors were Black as well. 

 

I found that cringe because I doubted I could handle something of this level. Black wasn't my favorite; it was the minor likable color I liked. Sometimes I wondered why it was even color in the first place if it didn't make one happy. I wanted bright colors, colors that put a smile on your face. A Pink gown could be Orange, Green, or Yellow. Anything at all, anything but Black.

 

We eventually stopped in front of a room, and he twisted the door to the room and pushed it open.

 

“This is this your room.” He informed me and stepped in.

 

I stepped in after, my eyes darting from the Black and White drawings on the wall just above the bed head to the frame that hung on the left side of it. The bed was pushed to the side of the wall. The duvet was also Black; the only touch of White I saw was the pillowcase and the edges of the standing mirror.

 

How was I supposed to sleep here without having a nightmare?

 

“Dinner is served by nine. Come down by then.” He said, and with this, he walked out of the room.