chapter 2 : A New life in His world
1367 Words
A New Life in His World
The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
Emma sat stiffly on the plush velvet couch, her fingers curling into the fabric. The warmth from the grand fireplace did nothing to chase away the chill creeping up her spine.
Adrian Blackwood stood before her, every inch the untouchable billionaire she had only heard rumors about. His expensive black suit hugged his broad shoulders, his icy blue eyes watching her with quiet amusement—like a cat playing with a trapped mouse.
“This is your new home,” he finally said, gesturing lazily around the lavish study.
Emma swallowed hard and forced herself to look.
Bookshelves lined the towering walls, filled with hardcover books that looked untouched. A gold-rimmed whiskey glass rested on the mahogany desk beside a silver pen that probably cost more than everything she owned. Behind Adrian, a massive window revealed the moonlit garden, its carefully trimmed hedges glowing under the soft outdoor lights.
It was breathtaking. Cold, controlled, and suffocating—just like him.
Emma looked down at her worn-out sneakers against the polished marble floor, feeling like an imposter.
“I… I don’t understand,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Adrian arched a brow. “What exactly don’t you understand, Emma?”
Everything.
Why had he chosen her? What did he want from her?
She had expected a job—maybe as his assistant, maybe as a maid. But something about his gaze, his presence, told her that wasn’t all he had planned.
“Where will I sleep?” she asked instead, her voice trembling.
Adrian’s smirk deepened, like he had been waiting for that question. “I’ll have someone show you to your room.”
At that moment, the double doors swung open, and a woman stepped inside.
She was tall, with sleek dark hair pulled into a tight bun, her crisp gray uniform fitting her slender frame perfectly. Her expression was neutral, professional—but her sharp brown eyes held something that looked like pity when they landed on Emma.
“This is Margaret,” Adrian said lazily. “She’s the head housekeeper. She’ll be in charge of you from now on.”
Margaret gave Emma a small nod. “Come, I’ll take you to your quarters.”
Emma hesitated, glancing back at Adrian. His eyes held a warning.
Don’t ask questions. Don’t fight. Just obey.
With her heart pounding, she stood up and followed Margaret out of the study.
---
The Mansion & The First Night
The hallways were eerily quiet as Margaret led Emma deeper into the mansion. The walls were lined with expensive paintings, the air scented with something rich—cedarwood and leather, maybe even a hint of Adrian himself.
“There are rules you must follow,” Margaret said as they walked. “You will rise at six every morning. Breakfast is at seven. You are expected to be available at all times when Mr. Blackwood requires you.”
Emma’s brows furrowed. “Requires me for what?”
Margaret’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That is for him to decide.”
Emma shivered.
They stopped in front of a dark oak door, and Margaret pushed it open, revealing a small but elegant bedroom.
A large four-poster bed stood in the center, its silk sheets neatly arranged. A closet, already stocked with neatly pressed clothes, lined one side of the room. A small vanity table with an ornate mirror sat near the window, where heavy curtains were drawn shut.
It was beautiful. But it wasn’t hers.
Margaret turned to leave but paused at the doorway. “You should sleep while you can.”
Emma blinked. “What do you mean?”
The older woman hesitated, as if deciding whether to say more. Then she sighed.
“Mr. Blackwood… is not a patient man.”
And with that, she shut the door behind her, leaving Emma alone in the unfamiliar room.
Not a patient man.
Emma swallowed hard, sitting on the edge of the bed.
The reality of her situation crashed down on her like a tidal wave.
She was no longer free. She had entered a world where Adrian Blackwood made the rules.
And she had no idea what he had planned for her.
next morning 🌄:
Emma barely slept.
She had tossed and turned, her mind racing with everything that had happened. The unfamiliar scent of fresh linen and expensive perfume clung to the pillows, reminding her she was far from home.
By the time morning came, she was already awake when a soft knock echoed through her room.
“Miss Emma?”
Margaret’s voice.
Emma forced herself up, rubbing at her tired eyes. “I’m awake.”
The door opened slightly, and Margaret stepped inside, holding a neatly folded uniform in her hands. It was a simple black dress with white cuffs—not extravagant, but clearly designed for someone working in a household like this.
“You’ll wear this from now on,” Margaret said, placing it on the bed. “Breakfast is in thirty minutes. You must not be late.”
Emma hesitated, glancing at the dress. A uniform?
“So I am a maid?” she asked.
Margaret’s expression didn’t change. “You are an employee of Mr. Blackwood. It’s best you don’t question your role.”
Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. She had no other choice.
She changed quickly, smoothing the dress over her body. The fit was snug, hugging her figure in a way that felt too intentional.
When she stepped out of her room, Margaret was waiting. Without a word, she led Emma down the grand staircase into a dining hall larger than any house Emma had ever lived in.
The long table was set with silverware, crystal glasses, and plates of freshly prepared food—scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, buttered toast, and a pot of steaming black coffee.
And at the head of the table, Adrian Blackwood sat, reading the newspaper.
His presence alone dominated the room.
Margaret gestured for Emma to sit, and she obeyed, her hands trembling slightly as she placed them in her lap.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then Adrian folded the newspaper and set it aside, lifting his coffee cup with ease. “You’re early.”
Emma blinked. “I—”
“I expected you to be late,” he continued, sipping his coffee. “But I see Margaret has trained you well.”
Emma’s jaw tightened. Trained.
Like she was some sort of pet.
Margaret cleared her throat. “Shall I bring in the rest of the staff?”
Adrian didn’t even glance at her. “No need. Leave us.”
Margaret nodded and disappeared, leaving Emma alone with him.
The silence stretched again.
Emma stared at her plate, unsure if she was allowed to eat. Her stomach churned, both from hunger and unease.
Adrian set down his coffee cup and leaned back in his chair. “You’ll have dinner with me every night.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
His blue eyes darkened slightly, as if her questioning him was amusing—but also a warning.
“You heard me.”
Emma’s fingers curled around the edge of the table. “I thought I was here to work.”
“You are.” He tilted his head. “But I don’t like eating alone. You’ll join me. That is your first rule.”
First rule.
Her heart pounded.
It wasn’t normal for an employer to force a maid to eat with him. This was something else.
Something much more dangerous.
Emma forced herself to speak. “And if I say no?”
Adrian smirked, his gaze dropping to her trembling hands. “Then I’ll remind you of the contract you signed.”
Her throat went dry.
She had no way out.
With shaky fingers, she picked up the silver fork and took a bite of toast. It was soft, buttery, perfect—yet it tasted like nothing in her mouth.
Because she wasn’t eating by choice.
She was following his rules.
And she had no idea how many more there would be.
- Writer
