BLOOD, LIES AND VOWS

A DESIRE UNSPOKEN His fingers barely brushed her skin, yet the innocent touch sent a shiver through her. Suddenly, the space between them felt far too small. Eleanor had only one intention—to respect her father’s decision. She had told herself that she would do whatever was necessary, even if it meant giving herself to a man she barely understood. But now, standing this close to Lucien Moretti, her carefully rehearsed courage was beginning to crumble. She swallowed hard. “I want you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination. Lucien’s eyes darkened. He slowly caught the edge of her skirt between his fingers, his gaze never leaving hers. The teasing gesture made Eleanor’s breath hitch. “I want you to F^ck me!" “Lucien slowly brushed his thumb across Eleanor’s lip, wiping away the strange substance. His eyes remained fixed on hers, his expression unreadable as he murmured, ‘You really have no idea what you’ve just started.’” A moment later, he swept her into his arms and carried her toward the bed. Eleanor slowly undid the buttons of Lucien’s shirt, one after another, her fingers lingering just enough to make his breathing change. When she reached for the waistband of his trousers, however, Lucien caught her wrist. His eyes met hers, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Careful, Eleanor,” he murmured. “You’re getting far too confident.” He stopped before going any further. “Are you sure you want this?” Eleanor nodded, though her heart was pounding. “Yes… just go easy on me,” she whispered. “I’ve never done this before.” Lucien studied her face for several seconds before leaning down and kissing her deeply. “Slow down,” he murmured. “I want you to be sure.” “I am,” Eleanor insisted. Yet instead of continuing, Lucien stood. Eleanor stared at him in confusion as he straightened his clothes. He had wanted her—badly—but he wasn't going to let desire make the decision for either of them. Eleanor's heart sank. She had promised her father she would make this work. Father wants me to have his child… I must do this. Her thoughts raced. She hurried to the table and picked up a glass of water. Her hands trembled as she secretly added what she had been given. Then she returned to Lucien. He immediately noticed the nervousness in her expression. “What's that?” “Water,” she answered quickly. Lucien stared at the glass before taking it. “Why are your hands shaking?” Eleanor froze. “They're not.” A faint, knowing smile appeared on his face. He raised the glass toward his lips—but stopped. His eyes narrowed. “Eleanor…” His voice suddenly became stern.“Is that how much you hate me?” Tears immediately gathered in Eleanor's eyes. “No!” she cried. “I'm not trying to poison you!” Lucien sighed. “Then what is it?” Eleanor looked down, tears slipping down her cheeks. “It's a drug,” she finally admitted. Lucien's expression changed. “A drug for what?” Eleanor's face burned with embarrassment. “To… make you lose control.” Silence filled the room. Lucien slowly set the glass aside. Then he stepped toward her. “You really think you need something like that to make me want you?” Eleanor couldn't answer. Lucien gently lifted her chin. “Look at me.” She did. His voice dropped to a quiet whisper. “You have no idea what kind of effect you already have on me.” Eleanor's cheeks burned. Lucien took her hand and led her toward the bathroom. He turned on the shower, allowing the cool water to fall around them. Eleanor stood beneath it, overwhelmed by everything that had happened. Lucien watched her carefully. Then his expression softened. “This isn't your father's decision anymore,” he said quietly. Eleanor looked at him. “What do you mean?” “I mean,” Lucien said, stepping back and giving her space, “if anything happens between us, it happens because you chose it.” He turned and drove out of the house. Eleanor's lips parted. What does he intend to do with me? She wondered, her thoughts a tangled mess. I don’t understand him. I don’t understand any of this. Confusion tightened in her chest as she stared at him, searching his face for an answer he wasn't giving her. A few minutes later, Eleanor quietly slipped out of the room. She had made up her mind. If she was going to stay in the Moretti mansion, she couldn't just sit around doing nothing. She headed straight for the kitchen. The moment she stepped inside, the workers froze. One of them nearly dropped the tray in her hands. “Ma'am!” Eleanor smiled politely. “Don't worry. I'm here to help.” “Help?” The woman's eyes widened in horror. “Yes.” Eleanor walked toward the counter and picked up a knife. The workers stared at her as if she had just pulled out a gun. “Ma'am, please put that down.” She frowned. “Why?” Another worker suddenly rushed toward Eleanor, his head bowed so low he nearly collided with her. “Because you're the Moretti' bride!” “So?” “So…” The woman swallowed. “Brides don't chop vegetables.” Eleanor looked down at the vegetables. “Since when?” Nobody answered. Eleanor shrugged and started chopping. The workers looked at one another helplessly. One whispered, “We're finished.” Another whispered back, “Why?” “Because if Mr. Lucien sees her doing this, we're the ones to blame.” Eleanor's ears perked up. She turned around. “Did you say Lucien?” The two workers immediately became quiet. “No.” “You definitely said Lucien.” “We said… lotion.” Eleanor stared at them. “Lotion?” “Yes.” “You were discussing lotion while watching me chop carrots?” The woman nodded nervously. “Yes, ma'am.” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Just let me work.” She prepared the dish, ignoring every desperate plea from the workers. When she finally finished, she wiped her hands and walked into the living room.The workers followed behind her like frightened ducklings. Then Eleanor picked up a cleaning cloth. The workers gasped. “No!” Eleanor looked at them. “What now?” “Please, ma'am!” “It's just a cloth.” “You can't clean!” With their heads bowed. “Why?” “Because you're the Moretti' bride!” Eleanor stared at them for a moment. “So apparently being married means I'm no longer allowed to touch a cloth?”Nobody dared answer. Eleanor shook her head and started cleaning. She wiped the tables. She dusted the furniture. Then she looked at the floor. A small stain caught her attention. She immediately crouched down. The workers almost screamed. “MA'AM!” Eleanor began scrubbing. “You people are too dramatic.” “Please stand up!” “No.” “Ma'am!” “It's a stain.” “We can clean it!” “I've already started.” The workers stood around helplessly, watching their new mistress scrub the floor on her knees. One of them whispered, “I've never seen anything like this.” Another whispered, “Me neither.” A third worker sighed. “She might actually be crazy.” Eleanor suddenly looked up. “I heard that.” The worker froze. “I said… she might actually be classy.” Eleanor narrowed her eyes. “Better.” By the time she finished, Eleanor's hair was slightly messy, and her hands were sore. She sat down on the floor and sighed. “Finally.” The workers stared at her. Then one of them suddenly laughed. Eleanor looked at her. “What?” “Nothing, ma'am.” “Then why are you laughing?” The woman covered her mouth. “You look funny.” Eleanor looked down at herself. Then she burst out laughing. Soon, everyone was laughing. The tension that had filled the room disappeared. One worker even brought Eleanor a glass of water. “You're different, ma'am.” Eleanor smiled. “Different how?” “You don't act like a rich woman.” “I've never been rich.” “That explains it.” Eleanor laughed. For the first time since entering the Moretti mansion, she felt comfortable around them.Then her smile slowly faded. She looked at them. “Can I ask you something?” The workers became quiet. “Why is Lucien always as cold as though everyone is an enemy?” The laughter disappeared. One of the older women lowered her eyes.“Mr. Lucien wasn't always like this.” Eleanor's curiosity immediately returned. “What happened?” The woman hesitated. “His mother.” Eleanor sat up straighter. “His mother?” “She was thrown out of this house.” Eleanor's smile disappeared completely. “Why?” “We don't know.” “And then?” The woman swallowed. “A few months later, we heard that she was dead.” Eleanor's brows furrowed. “Just like that?” The woman nodded. “After that, Mr. Lucien changed. He stopped trusting people. He became cold. Nobody could get close to him.” Another worker suddenly spoke. “And there is something else.” Eleanor turned toward him. “What?” He lowered his voice. “Mr. Lucien is allergic to mushrooms.” Eleanor blinked. “Mushrooms?” The man nodded quickly. “He ate them when he was young. His body reacted terribly. He nearly passed out.” Eleanor's expression changed. “That's serious.” “Very.” The worker sighed. “Sometimes I really feel sorry for him.” Eleanor remained silent, thinking about everything she had just heard. Then— “BOSS!” Everyone jumped. A young worker came running into the room. “Boss is here!” The laughter vanished instantly. The workers scrambled to their positions. One almost tripped over the carpet. “Stand properly!” “I am standing properly!” “Your shirt!” “My shirt is fine!” “Your head! Bow your head!” Within seconds, everyone was lined up at the entrance. Hands clasped neatly in front of them. Heads lowered. Silence. Eleanor looked at them in confusion.“What's wrong with everyone?” Nobody answered. She looked toward the entrance. Heavy footsteps echoed through the mansion. Slow. Calm. Unhurried. But somehow terrifying. Eleanor's heartbeat skipped. The workers lowered their heads even further. Then the doors opened. Lucien Moretti walked inside. His expression was unreadable. His eyes swept across the room. Then stopped. On Eleanor. And finally— On the dirty cloth still clutched in her hand. The faint stains on her dress. The workers standing around her like frightened statues. His expression remained unreadable. But before anyone could say a word, Eleanor's face suddenly lit up. “Lucien!” She rushed toward him with a bright smile. Before he could react, she threw her arms around him, completely forgetting that the dirty cloth was still clutched in one hand. The workers collectively held their breath. Lucien stood still for a moment. Then his arms slowly came around her. Eleanor smiled against his chest. “You're back.” Lucien lowered his eyes toward her. Then his gaze shifted to the cloth in her hand. His jaw tightened. He gently pulled away from her. His eyes moved toward the workers. The warmth in his expression disappeared. “Who allowed my wife to clean?” His voice was calm. Far too calm. Every worker immediately lowered their heads, clasping their hands together nervously. Silence filled the room. “I said… Who allowed my wife to clean?” One worker finally stepped forward. “We're sorry, sir.” His voice trembled. “We tried to stop Madam, but she wouldn't listen to us.” Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. “Is that so?” “Yes, sir.” Lucien looked at all of them. “Then listen carefully.” The workers swallowed hard. “On no account should my wife be caught doing any chores in this house.” His voice remained cold and composed. “She is not a servant.” Nobody dared to lift their heads. “If this happens again…” Lucien paused. The silence became suffocating. “Every person responsible will lose their job.” A few workers visibly stiffened. “Yes, sir,” they answered together. Lucien turned back to Eleanor. He reached for her hand and grabbed Eleanor's hand. “Come.” Eleanor blinked. She looked at him. Lucien tightened his hold gently around her hand and began walking. Eleanor hurried after him, almost stumbling as she tried to match his long strides. “Lucien, slow down.” He didn't. “I'm coming!” The workers watched them disappear up the stairs. One of them finally released the breath he'd been holding. Another whispered,“Thank God.” The workers immediately dismissed themselves, quietly dispersing without saying a single word to one another.