Ralph rested on his chair in his office, eyes closed, basking in the sun that poured into his office from the large window. Different thoughts ran through his mind at the same time. His parents' twelfth remembrance was in a few days. He wondered if things would have turned out differently if they were still around. He was determined to make them proud in their grave after he paid his last respects to them at the funeral. His brother was everything to him, he's the only realest person that he grew up to know and love. His death left him shattered and all his emotions died with him. He should have been in that accident with them. Growing up on his own was the toughest challenge ever, with his uncle looking up to him with expectations. His mind went to Silva, wondering if he was too hard on her. The sight of her irritates him more than it should, and maybe it is because she has a striking resemblance to his brother and that annoys him because he can't have his brother here. The thou
Useless...useless...useless...the words echoed in her head. Her mother had a worthless daughter. Her eyes fluttered open in the dark room. Unable to decipher where she was, she gently rose.Then a slap came from nowhere. Her head jerked to the left with the force of that hit. Tears dropped down from her eyes."I just don't understand why I made you a friend. You are just dumb. You have nothing, absolutely nothing to offer, and yet you think you can go anywhere you want?" Rebecca's voice echoed her my head. "Where did you go to? I smell drugs on you.""Drugs?" Ralph's voice cut through the fog. Then and there, she knew she was dead.The world whirled round as Rebecca's voice pierced through the atmosphere. The feel of the slap still stung but her words hurt more. She attempted to focus her gaze, the faint light exposing Ralph's commanding presence next to Rebecca. “I asked you a question,” Ralph’s tone was ominously soft. "Where did you get the drugs?" Silva's heart pounded in her
Silva's knees struck the unforgiving ground as Rebecca pushed her ahead. Three days had gone by since the dark alley incident, and the storage closet punishment had merely marked the start. "I want this whole floor sparkling clean before Ralph gets back," Rebecca commanded, placing a bucket of soapy water next to Silva. "And I’m talking about flawless. I want to be able to view my reflection." Silva nodded quietly, every muscle in her body feeling the strain of fatigue, stress and exhaustion. Her stomach protested noisily.They had given her barely enough to live—small quantities of cold remains and just enough water to stave off collapse.Her body tired, her belly empty of food, she lost track of each passing hour and of the number of evenings she had spent stuck in this wretched place. For how long more would she be able to withstand? "Did you hear me?" Rebecca snapped, roughly grasping Silva's chin. "Yes," Silva murmured, her voice raspy. "Yes what?" Rebecca's fingers delved fur
As Silva knelt beside the fountain, the setting sun behind the clouds dyed the sky in dancing shades of orange and pink. Hours of kneeling in the sun had numbed her legs and parched her throat. She didn't even have the energy to look up when Ralph's shadow cast as far as she knelt."Come on," he ordered in a monotonic tone.Silva attempted to walk but her legs didn't coordinate. Her knees buckled and she stumbled forward, then quickly steadying herself on the edge of the fountain.Ralph repeated irritation edged into his tone, "I advise you to get up."Silva muttered, her voice cracking from dehydration, “I cannot feel my legs.”Reaching down, Ralph groaned as he yanked her up. Silva gasped at the blood flowing back into her legs; pins and needles shot up from her knees."Go clean yourself up," he snapped and jerked her arm down.Silva nodded dazedly. "Yes, sir."As Ralph walked away, Silva steeled what little bravery remained to her. "Sir?"He halted, not so much as turning around. "W
Silvia awoke the next morning with her head spinning. The green dress was draped over her closet door—proof that last night hadn't been a dream. For an evening, she'd sat as a guest at Ralph's table, not as his servant. She touched the silver necklace still fastened around her neck, wondering what the day would hold.Lost in her daydream, she was suddenly jolted back to reality by a loud, insistent knock at the door."Get up! Now!" Rebecca's voice cracked like a whip.Silvia opened the door to find Rebecca flushed, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her palms."Did you imagine one dinner would make a difference?" Rebecca spat, shoving past Silvia into the little room. Her eyes landed on the emerald dress. With a snort of disgust, she ripped it from the hanger. "This little pretense is ended.""Don't," Silvia whispered, extending a feeble hand toward the dress.Rebecca slapped her hand away with so much force the sound echoed through the room. "Nothing in this house is yours.
After Silvia was done cleaning, it was already past midnight. Her fingers ached from all the work whilst her back throbbed intensely. The pains of hunger had transformed into a constant, gnawing discomfort. She entered the kitchen hoping to find something, anything, to eat before getting into bed. The kitchen was dim and quiet. Silvia switched on the little light over the sink, trying to remain quiet. She pulled open the fridge, the gentle light casting shadows on her weary face. There were dinner remnants, but she didn't dare to take them. Rebecca would notice. She looked and found a crust of bread and a little bit of cheese concealed behind the dishes. That would need to suffice. A sound on the door made her start as she shut the refrigerator. Ralph stood there swaying a little, his tie undone about his neck and his eyes red."What are you doing?" he mumbled, holding onto the doorframe for balance. Silvia swiftly concealed the bread behind her back. "Not a thing, sir." "Simply ti
Silvia's eyelids slowly shifted to the sunlight pouring in through unusual curtains. Her body felt heavy, and her mind was filled with tiredness. The sheets beneath her seemed gentle, excessively gentle. This wasn't her mattress. She jerked up, her heart racing. She noticed...the luxury, crystals on the nightstand. This was Ralph's bedroom. How had she ended up...Her last memory was tucking Ralph in, discovering the picture, and going to her own bedroom. Was she so exhausted that she fell here instead? Definitely not. She would not have made that mistake. A gentle groan from beside her made her pause. Ralph was lying on the other side of the bed, completely dressed, with one arm covering his face. His breathing was consistent and peaceful, his expression tranquil in sleep. Silvia carefully shifted to the bed's edge, wishing not to disrupt it. She had to go before... The door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall with a loud thud. Rebecca stood by the entrance, dressed in
Three days without nourishment seemed like forever. Silvia's stomach had transitioned long ago from sharp hunger pains to a void that caused her limbs to feel heavy as lead. She had been allowed water and slight comforts, but even that made her feel queasy as she drank it gradually from the bathroom faucet. On the morning of the third day, Silvia pulled herself out of bed, her uniform fitting more loosely than earlier. The mirror showed hollow cheeks and shadows under her eyes. Spraying cold water on her face, she tried to brighten herself for the day's activities.On that day, Silvia was especially cautious with her work: arranging the heavy bottles in the wine cellar, and dusting off the Persian rugs on the front porch. These tasks kept demanding energy that Silvia no longer had."You look terrible," Rebecca remarked with glee as Silvia entered the kitchen for her instructions. Savoring her morning espresso, she sat at the counter, the strong, rich smell causing Silvia's hungry be
The scene in the study captured a moment of heightened emotion. Silvia was there; her angry eyes, mussed hair, and voice full of a reality Ralph could not yet understand. Rebecca's beautifully constructed composure was in ruins, her face twisted into a furious snarl.Julian Vance's hand moved automatically towards his inside pocket. Ralph felt suddenly overwhelmed by a fragment of a familiar melody and the woman whose wild beauty hit that unapologetic, primal recognition."Who is this woman?" Ralph spoke curtly while his puzzled tone had his eyes darting between Silvia and Rebecca. The familiar comfort he experienced with Rebecca dissolved into an unsettling sense of confusion."Darling, she's an ex-employee with delusions," Rebecca said with regained calmness but her sweet-tongued voice betrayed hidden panic. By this point, security should have removed her from the premises. Their performance on the job was clearly inadequate. Julian, would you?" Julian moved toward Silvia, a ster
As Rebecca’s threat hung in the air like smoke, acrid and choking, Julian’s grip tightened.His hold was brutal on Silvia's arm, his fingers sinking into her flesh. He began dragging her towards the door. Rebecca's eyes flashed with a victorious cruelty, Silvia worse than what she had ever witnessed. The room, previously filled with the melancholic notes of their melody, now hummed with threat."Where do you imagine you're taking me?" she asked, trying to maintain a defiant tone despite her quavering voice.He didn't say a word, his expression a mask of chilly impassiveness as he dragged her through the empty mansion. Rebecca followed behind him, her smile a ravenous one.Down the grand staircase, they descended, rich ambiance colliding with the raw terror that gripped Silvia. A fleeting catch at seeing herself in one of several gilded mirrors – a pale, disheveled woman dragged down her hallway – soured her tongue with injustice.Down they descended, into cold, moist air. Julian led
The Spire letters in her palm weighed as much as lead. The harsh, unyielding reality of Rebecca's dupery, so clever and complicated a scheme, burned her with a desperate passion. She must locate some means of making Ralph see, shattering this fiction Rebecca had gone to such lengths to weave.Her first attempt was subtle. While having dinner that evening, as Ralph recounted Rebecca's sharp words at the most recent board meeting, Silvia tactfully interrupted.The Spire deal appears to be very complicated, Ralph," she told him in a very neutral tone. "Did you scrutinize all terms carefully?"Ralph frowned, glancing at Rebecca for verification. "Rebecca promises it is a safe investment. She has a keen financial mind."Rebecca gave her a tight smile. "Of course, darling. I always have your best interests at heart." Her eyes, though, sent Silvia a stern warning.Silvia pressed on softly. "But long-term forecasts, are they as favorable as they appear?"Ralph's brow furrowed deeper, a glint
The unease Julian Vance had caused lingered in Silvia's mind, a crack in the despondency wall that had begun to surround her. His words, vague but unsettling, implied an added degree of manipulation, one extending outside Ralph's personal domain and into the bedrock of his empire.The suspense at home reached its climax. Rebecca sensed Ralph's veiled shift in attitude – fleeting, confusing seconds of indecision, a flicker of old resolve struggling to take its rightful place – strengthened her grip all the more.Her commands became insistent, her control absolute. She stood over Ralph at every turn, her voice soft and commanding, protecting him ever more from every conceivable reminder of his history.Silvia was laying out dinner, her movements slow and precise in an attempt to hold on to her disorganized existence. Ralph entered the dining area, forehead furrowed, with a photo in his hands – a photo of Ralph and Silvia horsing around on their honeymoon. It was a photo Rebecca somehow
The transformation in Ralph's personality bled over from within the bounds of their love relationship; it crossed over into his business as well. The forceful, resolute businessman Silvia had admired was now waffling, looking for Rebecca's opinion on even the most minor decisions. Rebecca, an opportunist to her core, exploited this flaw, inserting herself into every facet of his business.Boardroom conferences, previously Ralph's domain, now included Rebecca by his side, offering uninvited advice and inserting her opinion at will. The other executives, initially shocked by her ungraceful return and at her assertive nature, learned with little effort that going against her meant going against Ralph, who was still very much incapacitated. A chill of gray spread through the ranks of professionals, complaints regarding Ralph's use of Rebecca muttered behind closed doors.Silvia, relegated to the role of silent onlooker, would occasionally overhear fragments of conversation between Ralp
The silence of Burke's despair and inability weighed heavily on Silvia. Even his fleeting friendship had been a whispered acknowledgment of the truth Rebecca so tirelessly concealed. But beyond their quiet, the party continued, muffled in its glittering pretense. Each metallic laugh, each artificial compliment, was another ripple of despair flooding Silvia's beach, steadily eroding what little remained to her.At a later hour, flushed with triumph and several glasses of champagne, Rebecca nudged her way through a throng of people to Silvia, pilfering glasses from an empty side table. Her eyes flashed with mischievous delight."You know, Silvia," she slurred somewhat, her tone had lost its sharp bite behind its pretended jollity, "you almost look like you belong here—if one squints, and conveniently forgets you're on the payroll." She added a dry laugh at the end of her remark.The lively chatter around her faded into a dull hum, intensified by Rebecca’s probing questions."Maybe you
The ensuing weeks descended into a stifling routine for Silvia. The mansion that had stood as a communal sanctuary now became a gilded cage. Ralph was still blind to everything, his gaze fixed on Rebecca with an unsettling blend of need and adoration.Buoyed by her unchallenged command, Rebecca began exercising her power with greater assertiveness. She would summon Silvia with a snap of her finger, ordering her with a flick of her wrist. The silk garments that once flowed over Silvia now fell over Rebecca's frame, a quiet, visual reminder of the life that was deceptively taken from her.She was meticulously polishing the great piano in the music room one afternoon, a job she used to delight in doing, often humming a little melody to herself as she cleaned when Rebecca and Ralph entered, speaking in soft, conspiratorial tones."The Duniq gala is this week, sweetheart," Rebecca told him, her possessive grip on Ralph's arm. "All has to be perfect. I want Silvia to coordinate all the de
The days folded into weeks, every one a dull routine of polishing, cleaning, and serving. Silvia glided through the great house like a ghost, her footsteps silent on the marble, her gaze down. Ralph's disinterest was a weight to her, a stifling shroud of sadness. Rebecca's insults, once razor-edged and cruel, were now an aching throb, a reminder of her diminished station.In reflective surfaces, she would see snippets of her past: a beautiful perfume bottle on a vanity she once shared with Ralph, a picture on a bookshelf showing them both laughing and untroubled on their wedding day. Every reflection was a splinter from a broken mirror, a painful reminder of her vibrant, happy life snatched away.Hope, obstinate emberlike, smoldered and went out. The unaccommodating impossibility of penetrating Ralph's amnesia, and Rebecca's remorseless coercion, appeared an insuperable obstacle. He often looked at her with polite insensitivity, a foreigner in his house, as Rebecca smiled at him, vi
The sun was setting.The opulent foyer of the mansion was uncomfortable for Silvia. Recently, she'd dusted these sparkling floors as Ralph's maid, not a wife now. The marble was cold on her knees now as she erased an evanescent stain from it, her nostrils flaring at the pungent cleaning agent. The odor was a harsh reminder of a life left behind: one of drudgery and suppressed resentment.Wearing one of the silk robes belonging to Silvia as an act of appropriation, Rebecca was in the doorway, her half glass of champagne in her hand. Her quick, calculating gaze passed over Silvia with unguarded amusement."Seriously, Silvia," Rebecca slurred, mixing her amber drink in its glass, "you're far too sloppy. Mr. Spade is a perfectionist. Don't you recall?"The jab hit close to home. Mr. Spade. The formality was a barrier between them, an obstinate erasing of their closeness. Her knuckles gripped the scrub brush tightly."Yes, Miss Wilson," she replied flatly, anger no longer flowing through