His golden prisoner

One wrong move...

I sat on the bed just as Connor had instructed.

If I did anything other than that, I'd have to explain myself, and I honestly didn't have the strength to.

My eyes drifted to the journal on the bedside table.

It had been a while since I'd written in it.

Then again, my life had become one big mess lately.

A mess I would've loved to write about.

But not under Connor's watch.

There were truths he should never find out, and I couldn't risk writing them down.

With a sigh, I closed the journal and placed it back where it was.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

"Hi, ma'am," Lana called before peeking through the door.

I frowned.

"Ma'am?" I repeated, confused.

That sounded so unusual.

"Come in, Lana," I replied, forcing a smile as she wheeled in a food trolley.

My eyes widened slightly.

The trolley was packed with fruits, sandwiches, pancakes, toast, juice and more food than I could count.

"Sir asked me to make sure you eat everything," she said, bowing her head slightly.

I looked from the trolley back to her.

"And what's with the sudden formality, Lan?" I asked, unable to hide my frustration.

She was the only person I could have a normal conversation with in this damn mansion.

And now even she was acting differently.

"I'm so sorry, ma. Please have your meal," she replied quietly.

That wasn't Lana.

Normally, she'd have argued with me or cracked a joke by now.

Instead, she stood there with her head lowered, avoiding my eyes.

I couldn't help but wonder if Connor had said something to her after leaving my room.

My gaze returned to the food trolley.

Connor had to be joking.

There was no way he expected me to finish all that.

Then it hit me.

The pregnancy.

A humourless smile escaped my lips.

Only Connor could point a gun at me one minute and worry about whether I'd eaten the next.

The thought should've comforted me.

Instead, it terrified me.

I picked up the plate of fruit and sandwiches before looking back at Lana.

"You can take the rest away," I said.

She hesitated.

"But, ma—"

I shot her a sharp look.

She immediately fell silent.

Without another word, she wheeled the trolley towards the door.

Just before leaving, she stopped.

It looked like she wanted to say something.

Our eyes met.

I stared at her for a few seconds.

Then I quietly asked,

"Did Connor tell you something?"

Her face changed.

Only for a second.

But I noticed.

"No, ma'am."

She looked away too quickly.

I knew she was lying.

"Lana."

She stopped at the door.

"If you know something, you can tell me."

Her fingers tightened around the trolley.

"I don't know anything."

Then she walked out.

The door shut behind her.

I stared at it.

She was hiding something.

And if Connor had frightened her into silence, then I needed to know exactly how much he had told her.

For the first time since I found out about the pregnancy, I realised something.

I couldn't trust anyone blindly anymore.

Not even Lana.

My gaze moved towards the journal again.

I reached for it.

Then stopped.

No.

If Connor was watching me this closely, I couldn't leave anything behind.

I opened the drawer beneath the bedside table instead.

There was an old envelope inside.

I pulled it out and stared at it.

I hadn't looked inside in months.

But now...

I needed to remember exactly why I had stayed this long.

Before I could open it, footsteps sounded outside the room.

I quickly shoved the envelope back into the drawer and closed it.

The footsteps stopped.

My heart began pounding.

Someone stood outside my door.

I held my breath.

A few seconds passed.

Then the footsteps continued down the hallway.

I slowly exhaled.

My hands were shaking.

Connor was watching me.

I didn't know how closely.

But now I knew one thing for certain.

I couldn't afford to make another careless move.

I rested a hand over my stomach.

Everything I did from now on mattered.

One wrong move...

...and I'd lose everything.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to take another bite of the apple.

"Now isn't the time to be weak," I whispered to myself.

And this time...

I meant it.