Falling for her oppressor

chapter 4

The old man—Mr.thompson, I think Aunt Lorna had called him—looked me up and down with an unsettling gaze, his eyes gleaming with something that made my skin crawl. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as he nodded approvingly, his wrinkled lips curling into a slow smile.

"Not bad," he said, his voice gruff but pleased. He gestured toward one of the plush chairs across from him. "Sit, girl."

I swallowed hard and nodded, too nervous to speak. My legs felt wobbly as I lowered myself into the chair, the smooth leather cold against my bare skin. My heart pounded in my chest, a growing sense of unease settling in my stomach. I tried to keep my hands still, but they fidgeted nervously in my lap, my fingers tangling together as I avoided meeting his eyes.

What was happening? Why was I here? A terrifying thought crept into my mind, one I couldn’t shake, no matter how much I wanted to—was Aunt Lorna trying to sell me off to this old man? Was that why I was dressed like this? The thought made my stomach twist with fear. I glanced at Aunt Lorna, hoping for some kind of reassurance, but her cold expression only made me more anxious. She wasn’t here to protect me. She never was.

As my mind raced with a thousand questions, the door to the lounge swung open, and my heart skipped a beat. A young man entered, and the room seemed to shift around him. He was tall—much taller than Mr. Thompson —his broad shoulders filling the doorway as he strode in with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. His black suit was perfectly tailored, accentuating his lean, muscular frame, and his dark hair was styled effortlessly, not a single strand out of place. His features were sharp, almost sculpted—high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and full lips that curved into a smirk as he approached. But it was his eyes that caught my attention the most. They were a deep, intense shade of brown, almost black, and they seemed to see right through me. There was a coldness to them, a darkness that made me feel exposed, like he could read every anxious thought in my head.

He exuded power, and something else—a dangerous aura that made the air around him feel heavier. It wasn’t just his good looks; it was the way he carried himself, like the world revolved around him, and he knew it. Every step he took was measured, deliberate, and for some reason, it made my heart race even more.

"Ah, there you are," Mr. Thompson said, standing up to greet him. "Right on time."

The young man nodded briefly, his eyes flicking to me for a split second before returning to the old man. He didn’t say anything at first, just moved with a grace that seemed out of place in this tense atmosphere. As he sat down in the chair opposite me, I tried to avoid looking directly at him, but it was impossible not to notice him. His presence filled the room, and I suddenly felt smaller, more vulnerable than before.

Aunt Lorna, who had been silent until now, stood up with a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face. "Good evening," she greeted, her voice uncharacteristically polite. She didn’t know him either, I could tell by the way her eyes flickered with curiosity. She was trying to impress him, that much was obvious.

The young man barely acknowledged her, just a curt nod in her direction before turning his full attention back to Mr. Harrington. He raised one dark brow, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Who’s the girl?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth, but laced with a hint of amusement, as though this entire situation was a joke to him.

My stomach twisted at his question, and I bit my lip, fidgeting even more with my fingers. The way he looked at me made me feel like I was being sized up, like I wasn’t a person, just... something to be discussed.

Mr. Thompson chuckled softly, the sound low and rasping. "I hope you like the present I’ve prepared for you," he said, glancing between me and the young man. His smile widened as if he were proud of himself.

My heart sank. A present? I felt my blood run cold, my mind spinning with panic. Present? Was he talking about me? I couldn’t bring myself to look up, my eyes fixed firmly on my lap as my fingers twisted together anxiously. I didn’t know what was happening, but every instinct in my body screamed that I needed to get out of here.

The young man’s gaze lingered on me, his dark eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t kindness, that much was clear. There was an edge to his stare, something that made me feel like a deer caught in the headlights. He leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Of course," he said finally, his voice dripping with amusement. "She’ll do just fine."

I flinched at his words, the reality of the situation sinking in like a lead weight in my chest. I was the present. And whatever this was, it wasn’t good. My breath came faster, my chest tightening as I tried to calm myself down, but the fear was growing stronger with every passing second.

Aunt Lorna sat beside Mr. Thompson, a satisfied look on her face, as though everything was going according to plan. She didn’t even glance in my direction.

The young man’s smile faded slightly, and he turned to Mr. Harrington again. "Let’s sign the contract, then," he said, his tone shifting to one of business, as though I were nothing more than a transaction.

Contract? My heart pounded harder. I wanted to scream, to run, to do something—anything—but I was frozen in place, too scared to move. My hands trembled in my lap, and I couldn’t even bring myself to look up.

Whatever was happening here, I knew one thing for sure—my life was about to change, and not in a good way.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The anxiety bubbling inside me reached its breaking point, and I felt the desperate need to know what was happening, to understand why I was here, dressed like this, surrounded by strangers who looked at me like I was some kind of prize.

I looked up at Aunt Lorna, my voice trembling as I asked, “What’s going on here?”

Her cold, calculating eyes flickered toward me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flash of annoyance. “Shut up,” she snapped, her voice low but sharp enough to cut through the air. “Stop asking questions. You’ll know what you need to know when the time comes.”

My stomach churned. Her words were like a slap to the face, and I felt a lump form in my throat. The fear that had been gnawing at me since we arrived started to suffocate me. I wanted to get up, to leave this room, to run far away from whatever this was, but my legs felt like they were glued to the floor.

The two men didn’t even acknowledge my outburst. The young man, still lounging in his chair with that infuriating smirk on his face, glanced at the old man, his expression one of satisfaction.

“It’s nice doing business with you,” the younger man said smoothly, extending his hand toward Mr. Thompson. They shook hands, their movements casual, as if they’d just concluded a routine deal.

I watched the exchange in horror, my mind struggling to grasp what was happening. Business? What kind of business could they possibly be doing that involved me?

Mr. Thompson stood up, his old bones creaking as he straightened his suit. He turned to Aunt Lorna, his eyes gleaming with the same satisfaction that made my skin crawl. “Come with me,” he said, his voice commanding yet calm, as though he expected nothing less than immediate obedience.

Aunt Lorna nodded without hesitation, her expression cool and composed. She didn’t even glance my way as she stood up, smoothing the wrinkles from her dress. I watched in disbelief as she followed Mr. Harrington, taking a few steps behind him, her movements purposeful and determined, like this was all part of her plan.

Panic surged inside me, and I shot to my feet, my heart racing in my chest. They couldn’t just leave me here, not like this, not with this strange man who seemed to enjoy the fear radiating off me. I couldn’t be left alone. Not with him.

I hurried to follow Aunt Lorna, my legs shaky in the high heels, but before I could take more than a step, a hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. Hard.

I gasped, the sudden force jerking me backward. I turned, wide-eyed, to find the young man standing right in front of me. His grip on my wrist was firm, almost painful, and when I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing but cold amusement there. A chill ran through me.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his voice low and dripping with malice. The smirk on his face was still there, but now there was something darker in his expression—something predatory.

I tried to pull my hand free, but his grip tightened. Panic surged inside me, making my pulse race faster. “Let go of me,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

His smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. It was the kind of smile that sent shivers down your spine, the kind that made you realize how powerless you were in this situation. “Didn’t your aunt tell you? You’re not here to leave. You’re here to stay.”

I felt the world tilt beneath me, the weight of his words hitting me like a ton of bricks. I was trapped. Trapped in this room, with this man, and there was nothing I could do about it.

My breath came in shallow gasps as I looked past him toward the door, where Aunt Lorna and Mr. Harrington were already disappearing, their footsteps echoing faintly down the hallway. They were leaving me. She was leaving me.

I turned back to the young man, my throat tight with fear. He still hadn’t let go of my wrist, his thumb brushing over my skin in a way that made my stomach twist in disgust. There was no escape.

“Please,” I whispered, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. “I don’t know what’s going on. Just let me go.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—pity, maybe? But it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by that same cruel amusement.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he said softly, his grip loosening just slightly. But he didn’t let me go. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “For now, you just need to listen. And behave.”

My heart pounded in my chest as his words sunk in. There was no way out. Not tonight. I had no choice but to obey.