chapter 21
906 Words
Lana lifted the glass of orange juice to her lips and took a slow sip before setting it back on the small table beside her.
She picked up another forkful of the strawberry cake John had brought her only a few minutes earlier and smiled to herself.
It was just as delicious as the cheesecake she'd had the previous day.
The sweetness lingered pleasantly on her tongue, momentarily distracting her from the reality of where she was.
The morning had passed far differently than she had expected.
After breakfast and after her unpleasant encounter with Damon, she had intended to return straight to her room. With the handyman repairing her window, there was little else she could do. She had planned to shut herself away until nightfall, hoping to avoid seeing Damon again.
Instead, john had stopped her in the hallway.
"Miss Lana," he'd called gently.
She had turned, expecting another instruction. instead, he had smiled.
"Do you enjoy reading?"
The unexpected question had caught her off guard.
Reading?
She hadn't expected that, she'd hesitated and part of her wanted to refuse.
The less comfortable she became here, the easier it would be to remember this place was a prison.
But another part of her... the exhausted, lonely part...didn't want to spend another entire day staring at four walls.
So, after only a moment's thought, she'd nodded.
John's smile had widened.
"If you'll follow me."
He had led her through several quiet hallways before stopping before a pair of magnificent wooden doors.
When he'd pushed them open, lana had forgotten how to breathe. The library was enormous.
Towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with thousands of books.
Rolling ladders rested against the shelves, while elegant chandeliers cast warm golden light over polished wooden floors.
Large windows overlooked the gardens outside, filling the room with gentle afternoon sunlight.
Comfortable leather chairs sat beside a crackling fireplace despite the mild weather, creating an atmosphere so peaceful it hardly seemed real.
It looked like something from a fairy tale or one of the grand libraries she'd only ever admired in movies.
She had stood frozen in the doorway.
"...This is a library?"
John had chuckled softly.
"It is."
"I've never seen so many books before."
"I thought you might enjoy it."
Enjoy it? She loved it.
Growing up, books had always been her escape.
Whenever life became too heavy, she'd lose herself inside stories where people found happiness, solved impossible problems, and somehow always found their way home.
She hadn't been able to afford many books herself.
Most of what she'd read came from public libraries or second-hand shops, nothing like this.
Hours later, she was curled comfortably into one of the oversized armchairs with a novel resting in her lap.
Beside her sat a small tray carrying fresh fruit, another slice of cake, and a chilled glass of orange juice.
It almost felt normal and peaceful.
She turned another page, smiling faintly, for the first time since arriving at the Carson estate...
Her heartbeat wasn't racing and her shoulders weren't tense and she almost felt safe
But then Damon crossed her mind and her smile faded. a sigh escaped her lips.
He had an incredible talent for ruining every peaceful moment.
She still couldn't forget the coldness in his eyes and the way he'd wrapped his hand around her throat.
The way he'd calmly informed her that she would be living there from now on, her fingers tightened slightly around the book.
"What is wrong with that man?" she whispered.
She looked toward the tall windows, the afternoon sun was beginning its slow descent.
Then she remembered something, john had asked Damon that morning when he planned to return.
"Don't wait up for me."
Those had been his exact words, a smile slowly returned to her face.
"So he won't be back until late..."
That meant she had hours. Hours without having to worry about unexpectedly running into him.
Hours without his intimidating presence hanging over her.
She leaned back against the chair with a relieved sigh.
"Then I'll stay here until evening."
It sounded like the perfect plan.
Read, eat and forget, if only for a few hours, that she was trapped inside a mansion she couldn't leave.
Her gaze drifted back to the pages before her but no matter how hard she tried to lose herself in the story...
One question refused to leave her mind, her father.
She frowned.
What had Nicholas Miller actually done?
Damon hated him with a passion that went far beyond unpaid debts, it wasn't about money, she knew that much now.
There had been too much pain in his voice and bitterness.
As though her father had stolen something far more valuable than wealth. But what?
She had asked him twice but both times he'd refused to answer. Instead, he'd simply blamed her, as though she should already know.
Her chest tightened.
"I don't understand..."
She had spent years paying for her father's mistakes, dealing with debt collectors and constantly moving, even losing jobs, living in fear and now this.
If her father had truly done something so terrible...
Didn't she deserve to know? Didn't she deserve the truth?
She stared blankly at the page before her without reading a single word.
"What did you do, Dad?" she whispered softly.
The library remained silent, only the gentle ticking of an antique grandfather clock echoed through the vast room.
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