chapter 3
1122 Words
The Rules of My New Life
I was led inside; my footsteps uncertain as I followed Arthur through the grand entrance of his estate. The place was breathtaking, sleek, modern, and just oozing with the kind of luxury I had only ever seen in magazines. Everything gleamed, from the polished marble floors to the glass chandeliers casting soft, golden light across the high ceilings.
And yet, no matter how the extravagance was, I could only see it for what it was.
A gilded cage.
Arthur didn't bother giving me a tour. He simply strode ahead with effortless confidence, expecting me to keep up.
I hesitated at the threshold, my instincts screaming at me to turn and run. But where? The high walls, the armed guards, the ever-watchful cameras—I had already seen them. This place wasn't just designed for security. It was designed to keep people in.
Arthur's voice pulled me from my thoughts.
"Rule number one," he said casually, not even bothering to look at me. "Don't try to run.
I tensed, my hands curling into fists at my sides.
"Rule number two," he said, finally turning to look at me over his shoulder. "Obedience is rewarded. Defiance…"
He let the word fade away, like a warning.
My stomach twisted.
He didn't need to finish the sentence. I got it.
We came to a set of double doors, and Arthur pushed one open with ease. The room beyond was stunning.
The big bed was plastered against one wall, where the sheets upon it were smoothly silk. Lines of bookcases lined the edges, their bookshelves congested with their occupants. Usually, I might have been utterly thrilled at that prospect of having such a selection, but in this case now, the huge floor-to-ceiling window on the balcony showed the city - twinkling lights as far as the eye can see.
"This is yours," he said tersely.
I looked at him and blinked. "You're… giving me my room?"
Arthur smirked, and in that moment, his dark eyes shone. "Did you think I was going to stick you in some dungeon?"
I didn't answer. Because frankly? I was uncertain.
One more step on his part took him closer again, the breadth of space diminishing between us though the room felt expansive, closing in on me.
"Make no mistake, Olivia," he said calmly, but firmly, "you're here on my terms. Still, I'm not a monster.
I swallowed hard. I wasn't so sure about that.
Arthur studied me a moment, then c****d his head to one side. "Unless, of course, you give me a reason to be."
A chill traced its way down my spine.
Then, just like that, he turned and walked away.
The door clicked shut behind him.
And I was alone.
The Brutal Truth About My Captivity
I stood in the middle of the luxurious bedroom, my heart racing against my ribs.
There was absolute silence.
I took a slow step closer to the window, my hand pressed against its cool glass. The city beneath went further and wider, full of life and freedom-everything I no longer had.
Spinning around towards the door, I stepped hesitantly across the floor towards it.
Locked.
Of course.
A bitter laugh bubbled up my throat, and swallowed.
It was something my father had done; he had gambled, lost, and instead of paying his debt, he sold me to him.
The words of Arthur floated in my brain, "Obedience is rewarded. Defiance… well."
What exactly happened to those who refused him?
I didn't want to know it.
But neither was I ready to quit.
Knowing My Cage
I moved back toward the bookshelves, running my fingers along the spines. The collection was everything from classics to philosophy to what looked like first editions of books I'd only dreamed of owning.
If nothing else, at least I wouldn't be bored.
The bathroom wasn't any less over-the-top, with sleek black marble counters, a rain shower, and a deep soaking tub that seemed out of place in anything other than a five-star hotel. A closet full of clothes of which were mine.
I frowned as I skimmed through the racks. The selection was curated. Expensive dresses, silk pajamas, perfectly tailored coats.
It was disconcerting.
Everything had been chosen for me.
I was being manipulated at every possible angle.
A Visitor
A soft rap at the door sent a jolt through me.
I whirled just as the handle turned, and the door swung open to admit a woman I hadn't seen. She was tall and lean, in a slick black uniform.
She smiled politely. "Good evening, Miss Olivia. My name is Evelyn. I've been assigned to attend you."
Assigned. Like a servant. Like a guard.
I didn't blink. "Assist me how?"
Evelyn didn't stop smiling. "Whatever you might need. Clothing, food, knowledge." She paused before adding, "And advice."
My gut twisted. "Advice?"
She glided into the room, silent as Arthur's entry had been. "I assume you have questions."
I did. Too many. But I wasn't certain I trusted her enough to ask them.
Instead I said, "What happens if I break the rules?
But Evelyn's voice remained flat and something leapt behind her eyes. Pity?
"That would be ill-advised."
The utter plainness of the word, the levelliness of tone, iced over my veins.
"Arthur said obedience brings rewards," I persisted. "What rewards?"
"Liberty," she said.
I froze up.
"Sundries. Trust. A future."
A future. As if the alternative were to be found only in the set of my mouth.
I crossed my arms over my chest. "And disobedience?
Evelyn let out a gentle sigh. "Arthur is not a cruel man. But he is a man of his word."
Which translated to, he'd carry out whatever punishment he decided upon.
I didn't like the way that sounded at all.
Evelyn took a step back toward the door. "Would you like something to eat?"
I hadn't realized my stomach was empty until she'd asked that. I hadn't eaten since-God, I wasn't even sure when the last time was.
I hesitated before nodding. “Yes. Please.”
She inclined her head. “I’ll have something brought up.”
I watched as she turned and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me alone once again.
A Prisoner in a Palace
I sank onto the edge of the bed, rubbing my temples.
I needed to think. To plan.
He called the shots; now it was left up to me to figure out how to play around them, how to survive this place.
Because escape?
That wasn't an option. Not yet.
But one day, I would find a way out.
And when I did, I wouldn't just run.
I'd make sure Arthur regretted ever thinking he could own me.
- Writer
