CHAPTER SIX
365 Words
She had been scared when she had arrived at the mansion. Scared of what Dante would do to her, what he would ask of her. She had heard the rumours about him—the ruthless billionaire, the man with ties to the underworld, the man who would crush anyone who dared to cross him.
But he had barely noticed her presence. Had given her a room, told her to get to work, and then left her alone.
It should have been a reprieve. But instead, it was its own form of torment.
Because she remembered him. Remembered that day six years ago when he had come to her stepfather's house. She had been in the garden, trying to get away from the oppressive air that had been inside, reading one of her mother's old books.
She had looked up and seen him standing there, tall and impossibly gorgeous in his black suit, and her heart had stopped. Their eyes had met, and for a moment—just one—she had seen something in his gaze. Recognition. Interest. Something that had made her catch her breath.
Then he had looked away, and the moment had been lost.
But she'd never forgotten. Had carried that moment with her through all the years of misery that followed. Had built foolish dreams around a man who didn't know she existed.
And now she was here, in his house, and he still didn't see her.
Except this morning, he'd noticed her pastries. Had eaten them. Had asked for more.
It was pathetic how much that small acknowledgement meant to her. How it had carried her through Sienna's cruelty and the endless work and the loneliness that threatened to swallow her whole.
Amara wiped her tears and stood, moving to the window. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Somewhere out there was a life she'd never have. Freedom. Happiness. Love.
But here, in this golden cage, all she had was shadows and secrets and the faint, foolish hope that someday, somehow, things might change.
She pressed her hand against the glass, watching the light fade.
"Someday," she whispered to the empty room. "Someday."
- Writer
