Chapter 3

Emilia looked defeated and depressed as she was taken out of the car that she was forced into earlier. The night was dark now and the moon was nowhere to be seen. Probably hiding behind a cluster of clouds.

She let herself be carried away by both men, surrendering to their grip as they took her into the shadows of the mansion. At that moment, she didn't bother to fight back any longer.

Emilia couldn't help but notice that there were dim lights hung at the gate but there wasn't a single light outside the mansion itself. It was a detail that stood out to her, even amidst the overwhelming emotions clouding her mind.

The entire building loomed before her, dark and mysterious, both inside and out. They led her up a long flight of stairs and finally into a room.

They unceremoniously tossed her onto the bed before leaving her alone in the room. She heard the unmistakable sound of keys turning in the lock, sealing her in.

What now, Emilia? What now? The thought echoed in her mind, heavy with despair. She felt a strange weight in her coat pocket and instinctively reached for it. To her surprise, it was the invitation card that had once filled her with excitement.

Tears began to well up in her eyes once more as memories flooded back. Just a few hours ago, she had felt so happy, so alive. How could everything have changed so drastically in such a short time?

Now, she found herself without her phone, her ID, or any means of contacting the outside world. All she had was this card. What was she supposed to do now?

She went down a memory lane of what led to this moment and anger surged through her. How could Marcule do this to her? Yes they despised each other but he wasn't even blood related to her. He'll pay for this! Emilia swore in her head that he would.

But then she recalled his words, “It’s for your mother’s treatment.”

It was true that Marcule was on the brink of poverty. Some of the money he had was indeed spent on her mother’s medical care, which had never been effective, but a large portion of it was wasted by Marcule himself on frivolous things.

She remembered him talking about taking Sarah abroad not long ago. Was this what it was all about? Or was this just another scheme for him to get his hands on money again, only to waste it away?

Emilia shot up from the bed and sat upright, her heart racing. No! This cannot be her fate; she wouldn’t accept it!

If this was genuinely for her mother’s treatment overseas, then maybe she could have a conversation with Marcule about it. Perhaps there was a better way to gather the money needed instead of literally selling herself to this scary, mysterious family; the Blackwoods.

But first, she had to escape this miserable place. In a moment of determination, she hurried to the door, reached for a hairpin she had on her hair and began to work on the keyhole, hoping to find a way out.

Soon, she heard a satisfying click. With a sense of anticipation, she turned the knob, and with a creak, the door swung open.

Carefully, she began to tiptoe out of the room, the flickering candles in each corner casting dim, wavering light that guided her through the dark and eerie corridor.

Who on earth uses candles instead of regular lights in the 21st century, for crying out loud? Emilia thought to herself, bemused by the strange choice of lighting.

As she reached the long staircase, she began her descent, taking one step at a time, moving steadily and silently.

The stairs were much darker than the other parts of the mansion because there were no candles illuminating this area, making it even more difficult to be quiet since she could barely see where she was going.

Suddenly, she bumped her on something firm… no, it was definitely someone! Startled, she stumbled back in fear, feeling herself begin to fall backward.

Just in the nick of time, a strong hand shot out and caught her, preventing her from hitting the ground.

Suddenly, the lights flicked on as if someone had snapped their fingers, illuminating the space around her.

Emilia was taken aback; so there were actually lights in this place, they just hadn’t been turned on until now.

She glanced ahead at the large chest that she had bumped her head against and then slowly raised her gaze upward, finally meeting the face of the person who had saved her from falling.

At first, she noticed the long, chestnut hair that cascaded down toward her face, almost obscuring her view.

As her eyes traveled further up, they finally locked onto a pair of sharp, piercing eyes that seemed to look right through her.

She noticed the narrow, straight nose and then her breath caught in her throat as she focused on the lips… a pair of lips that looked all too familiar.

Her heart raced, and she swallowed hard, trying to process who she was seeing. It can't be… can it?

“Who are you?” the man asked, still keeping her steady in his arm. His voice was deep and smooth, sending an unexpected shiver down her spine, leaving her confused about why she felt that way.

Was it because this moment confirmed her suspicions of who this man is or was it the flood of memories from that one unforgettable night that suddenly rushed back into her mind?

One thing she was definitely sure of was that he didn’t recognize her.

Was it a good thing or not? That the man whom she had one of the best sex with and is now forced into marriage with, doesn't recognize her from their one night stand?