Chapter 2

My husband doesn’t bother returning my greeting. I didn’t expect him to. Even though he claims to detest me and wishes me fates worse than death, he’s adamant that I speak to him as though I couldn’t fathom a world without him. I wouldn’t mind him burning in the hottest depths of hell but I’m forced to call him things like ‘Dearest’ or ‘Honey’ or ‘Darling’. Names I should reserve for the man I actually love. 

“Is there a reason you seem to be visiting my wife more often these days, Mrs Jacobs?” He asks Nicola in a low but demanding tone. His voice planting seeds of fear in Nic and I. He always calls her by her husband’s last name even though she never adopted it. He says the word ‘wife’ with a hint of possessiveness. Despite the fact that I’m more his prisoner than his wife, he wouldn’t pass up the chance to establish the fact that, unfortunately, I’m his. On paper at least. 

 I risk looking at his face and immediately regret it when I’m met with a frightening scowl. For some reason, he’s been in a foul mood all week. He needs someone to unleash his anger on, and Nicola and I are perfect candidates. I’m not afraid for myself. He can do whatever he wants to me. But he shouldn’t touch Nic. It might ruin his friendship with Oscar but I don’t know if he values that enough to not show her his wrath. 

“I’m sorry Mr Richards. I promise I’ll reduce the frequency of my visits.” Nicola’s voice trembles as she speaks and I want more than anything to put my hand on hers, but I know it’ll only worsen his mood.  

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Nicola and I slightly jump to the sound of his voice, suddenly octaves higher. His scowl etching deeper into his face with each word as he takes a step towards us. I quickly rise from the sofa and tread carefully to him. 

“Honey.” I say in the sweetest voice I can muster as I come to a halt right in front of him. “Did you enjoy breakfast? I gave Rhoda a break and prepared your favorite meal.”

Rhoda, the house chef, has never truly learnt how to properly cook Zeke’s kryptonite, beef wellington, and I know it pisses him off that I can make it exactly how he likes it. They were my dad’s favorite as well and I made it all the time for him. Zeke thinks I make my best for him but he’s tasted nothing. I made my dad’s with love and endearment in my heart. I make his with fear and anxiety and it always manifests in the food, but he never seems to notice. I always make them when Zeke’s anger is record-breaking to prevent collateral damage. That beef wellington has saved me, and even some of the workers, from more head wounds than I can count. And it looks like it’s about to save me from yet another one. 

Zeke’s expression softens ever so slightly as he finally looks into my eyes. I’m mentally taken aback by it as it hardly ever happens but I maintain my composure physically and hold his gaze. 

“It was barely edible.” He curses. “Your cooking was the only thing you were good for and now you’ve lost your touch. I didn’t think you could become more useless but you’ve managed to prove me wrong.” I immediately look away from him and take several steps back, reminding myself that Rhoda told me, just before Nic arrived, that his plate was licked clean when the kitchen staff returned it. He doesn’t fool me. If it was actually that bad, His hand would already be wrapped around my throat, squeezing hard. 

“Plant that sorry excuse of an ass on that sofa. I came here to tell you something and you’ve wasted enough of my time.” Zeke barks violently in my face before he shoves me toward the sofa and pins me with his glare as I sit down. Nic motions to get up and leave but stops suddenly as Zeke starts speaking. 

“In two days, Mr. Jacobs and I will go on a business trip to Shanghai to foresee the launch of a new business venture. We’ll be gone for six weeks and will return just before summer ends.” His voice is low but it’s suddenly the only thing I hear, canceling out all other sounds. It fills every inch of the living room with its depth and assertiveness. I try to comprehend what he’s saying. I understand but I’m unable to believe. 

Zeke couldn’t possibly be leaving. And for more than a month at that. It’s too good to be true. I refuse to raise my hopes and banish thoughts of sweet freedom that are already sprouting in my mind. I take a risk and look into his eyes, waiting for the catch. 

“I will relieve all the peasants of their duties for the length of time that I am away.” He says with a sinister smile. He slowly approaches me and leans down until his face is inches away from mine. His eyes gleam with malevolence. A look that plagued me with fear before but now leaves me mildly curious. 

He places his hand on my chin as his sinister smile disappears, leaving no traces. “But I expect to come back to a sparkling house. Each and every corner spick-and-span and free of dirt, dust and grime. A full course meal, fresh out of the kitchen, should better be waiting for me as well, so you better improve your cooking. Failure to deliver on these tasks will result in dire consequences. Some, you are already familiar with,” His smile returns with more venom laced into it. “and some you aren’t.”

His hand moves to the side of my face, cupping my cheek. He taps it once. Twice. A third time, harder than the first two before downright slapping me. Hard enough that my face jerks to the left. I wait for tears to spring into my eyes as Nicola screams. They don’t come. 

I turn my head to face him and my dry eyes meet his. He has a look of satisfaction on his face. Like he just proved something to himself and I can’t help but wonder what.

“You’re not going to attempt an escape.” He says calmly, and with that look of fulfillment still on his face, he leaves the room. 

Nic and I don’t move until we hear him slam his office door and lock it with a sharp click. She immediately rushes to my side of the sofa and softly places her hand on my, thankfully uninjured, cheek. 

“Oh Vi! That was terrible. Thank God you aren’t injured. I knew he was violent but I’ve never seen it with my own eyes. It must hurt so bad.” Her eyes fill with tears and I try to calm her down. 

“Nic, it’s fine. Stop fretting. It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” I hold her shaking hands and pull them away from my face. “Besides, I have six weeks of relief to look forward to. I can’t believe it.” The task of keeping this large house clean all by myself is daunting but it’s nothing compared to over a month of freedom and peace. Plus, I’m sure Nic’s gonna help me where she can. 

She immediately starts smiling and nodding her head. “I know Vi, I know. But you’re not spending those six weeks alone in this prison.” Her voice falling to a loud whisper. “You’re spending them on a cruise of the Caribbean!” She struggles to keep her voice low. 

“What? What do you mean?” I give her a confused look as she’s about to burst at the seams, trying to understand what she’s getting at. 

She finally grabs my hands and holds them to her chest, a wide smile stretching her face

. “I signed you up for a cruise, Vi!”