Mistress
701 Words
Gavrill sat in the lobby, his fingers resting lightly against the arm of the chair, his mind running through everything that had happened. The woman’s face kept flashing in his head her fear, her confusion. It didn’t sit right, but he wasn’t convinced.
“Sir…” Mike’s voice broke the silence as he stepped closer. “What do you think we should do? It seems like she’s innocent. We might have the wrong person.”
Gavrill didn’t respond immediately. His gaze stayed fixed ahead, his eyes were distant already calculating his next move. Innocent? No. It wasn’t that simple. People like her soft, fragile-looking were often the best for jobs like this because they are the hardest suspects.
“She’s a good actor,” he finally said, his tone calm but firm. “Too good.”
Mike hesitated. “But sir, her reactions—”
“Can be trained,” Gavrill cut in smoothly. “Fear can be faked. Confusion can be practiced.”
Silence lingered for a moment.
“I’ll get the truth out of her,” Gavrill continued, his voice lowering slightly. “But not the usual way. This kind of woman won’t break under torture. She’ll shut down… or worse, die before she talks.”
Mike frowned slightly, trying to understand where this was going.
Gavrill leaned back, his expression unreadable. “I’ll keep her close.”
Mike blinked. “Sir?”
A brief pause. “As my mistress.” The words hung in the air. For the first time, Mike’s composure cracked. Shock flickered across his face before he quickly masked it. The master had had many women before that wasn’t new. But this? Keeping someone who could be an enemy… that was different.
Dangerous. Mike lowered his head slightly, though his thoughts were anything but calm. He couldn’t understand it. Was this strategy… or something else entirely?
Gavrill said nothing more, his decision already made.
Daphne lay in the darkness, staring at nothing. It felt like everything she had been holding in for years was finally catching up to her. Growing up, she had learned to endure, to stay quiet, to survive, to not break no matter what her father put her through. But this… this was different. She couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much. For a moment, a dangerous thought crossed her mind. Maybe it would be easier if she just… ended it. The thought scared her, but it didn’t leave. She had thought countless times to kill herself but now the thought was heavy and it lingered. She felt she was being punished by her mother ghost so it was only best if she killed herself and joined her siblings and mother maybe then would they forgive her and her father would finally love her.
Then she broke.
A small sound escaped her at first, then another, until the tears came rushing out. All the emotions she had buried for so long came pouring out at once. She curled into herself, sobbing uncontrollably, her body shaking as if she might fall apart. Minutes passed… maybe hours. She didn’t know anymore. Time didn’t feel real.
The sudden sound of the door unlocking cut through her sobs.
She froze.Light spilled into the room as the door opened, and three women walked in. Their expressions were blank, unreadable. One of them stepped forward, her voice cold. “Stand up.”
Daphne didn’t move at first. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face tear-stained. She looked at them like someone already defeated. Slowly, she pushed herself up, her legs unsteady.
“Please…” her voice cracked as she suddenly dropped, grabbing one of the woman’s legs. “Please let me go. I didn’t do anything. I swear, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
The woman didn’t even look down at her.
She simply gave a small signal.
In an instant, the other two moved forward, grabbing Daphne roughly and pulling her away. Her grip broke as she was dragged back, her fingers scraping uselessly against the floor.
“Please! Please—!” her voice echoed, desperate, breaking.
They dragged her out of the room, her pleas fading into the silence behind them.
- Writer
