ZOE

CHAPTER 06

You?!” she shouted. That’s not possible — he’s not that kind of jerk!

From the shadows stepped their stableman — Mark.

Zoe froze, unable to think. She mentally cursed herself for ever telling her father to hire him.

“Excellent,” Ellen said with thinly veiled satisfaction. “Do you two know each other already?”

“No,” Zoe snapped. “But I was there when Dad accepted him. Nothing more. I’m not a slut who messes around with someone like that.” She shot Mark a disgusted look.

Mark said nothing — maybe because he didn’t know what to say, or maybe because he truly had nothing to say.

“So we’ve cleared that up,” Ellen continued briskly. “Zoe, go to your room. Someone will come for you later. And you, Mark — go back to Tadeo and then report to me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mark replied and left.

Zoe stood there for a moment, still stunned. Then she realized she should go too. She turned quickly, almost bumping into Mark in the hallway. Her heart jumped — she looked at him with burning hatred, stepped closer, and before he could react—

Smack!

She slapped him so hard that his cheek turned bright red. She gave him one last disgusted glare and stormed off, nearly stumbling as she reached her room.

She didn’t even want to call it her room. It was just the place she’d been forced to stay.

Sitting on the bed, she buried her face in her hands. So it was him… and I liked him. I thought he was sexy! she thought bitterly. Why didn’t I tell Dad that Mark was spying on me when I was swimming in the lake?

Her mind spun. And how am I going to get home now? Mom will definitely have me watched. Maybe if I pretend to obey her, she’ll let her guard down — then I could run away. The only problem would be the servants… but money can fix that.

Zoe sighed. She wasn’t thrilled at the idea of obeying a mother who had barely paid attention to her before — and now suddenly wanted to control her every move.

The rest of the day, Zoe stayed in her room reading. It wasn’t until evening that she heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she called softly.

A young woman entered. “Good evening, miss. I’m your maid. My name is Alice,” she said pleasantly.

Zoe immediately liked her. There was something kind in her face — something genuine.

“Hi, I’m Zoe. And please, don’t call me miss. It feels strange when you do — and you’re definitely older than me. How old are you?”

“I’m nineteen, miss,” Alice answered with a faint smile. “And… it’s probably not a good idea for me to—”

“Don’t worry,” Zoe interrupted, smiling. “It’s fine. Really.”

Alice nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

“Now,” Zoe said curiously, “tell me — why did my mother send you here?”

Alice looked surprised. “How did you know it was your mother?”

“It’s simple. She told me she would send someone for me,” Zoe replied matter-of-factly.

Alice gave a small nod. “Come on then, let’s pick something for you to wear.”

She walked to the wardrobe and began rummaging through the dresses. Finally, she pulled out a delicate purple gown, lightly decorated with lace. She paired it with matching purple shoes and a hair clip. Then she helped Zoe change and combed her hair.

“All done,” Alice said cheerfully.

Zoe turned toward the mirror. The reflection startled her — she looked elegant, though the style wasn’t quite her own. Her hair fell loosely down her shoulders, held back with the purple clip.

“You look very pretty,” Zoe said to Alice with a small smile.

“Thank you. We should go now.”

Alice opened the door, and Zoe followed silently down the hallway. Neither of them spoke. When they reached the dining room, Alice stopped. “Enjoy your meal,” she whispered and walked away.

Zoe hesitated, then knocked.

“Come in,” a voice replied.

She entered — and silently prayed she would survive the evening.

The dining room was just as extravagant as the rest of the house — polished wood, chandeliers, fine silverware. The sheer luxury made her stomach turn.

“My sweetheart has arrived,” Ellen greeted, smiling sweetly.

“Good evening,” Zoe said and walked to her seat.

A servant rushed forward to pull out her chair. She sat, and almost immediately her plate was filled — trout with some creamy sauce and roasted potatoes.

Zoe wasn’t used to such fancy dinners. Her meals with her father were always simple — warm, modest, real.

“Bon appétit,” she murmured.

“Bon appétit,” Ellen and Ivan echoed, already digging into their food as if they hadn’t eaten in days.

Zoe just toyed with her fork, barely touching her meal. Ellen glanced at her a few times but said nothing.

After dinner, Zoe stood up quietly, ready to retreat to her room.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Ellen’s sharp voice stopped her.

“To my room. I have a book there,” Zoe said softly.

“If you live here, you’ll have to adjust,” Ellen said firmly. “We don’t go to bed this early. I’ll go first — you go with Ivan, in case you need anything or want to go somewhere else.”

She turned and left, leaving Zoe alone with Ivan.

Zoe’s stomach twisted. He was looking at her strangely — and she didn’t like it at all.

“Come on, little girl,” he said in a low, mocking tone. “Don’t let Ellen get mad at us.”

Zoe didn’t respond. She simply rose from her chair.

“Stop — you’re coming with me,” he said threateningly.

Zoe bit her tongue and obeyed, knowing she would need all her strength to endure her stay here.

They walked in silence. Ivan didn’t bother to knock when they arrived; he just opened the door and walked in.

The room looked different but had the same lavish décor as before. Zoe followed reluctantly.

Ellen sat on a couch, waiting. “Come sit with me,” she said.

Zoe obeyed, feeling like a puppet — a doll that only moved when her mother pulled the strings.

“To the point,” Ellen began. “We usually spend our evenings here — Ivan, you, and I. We do whatever we like, but we stay together.”

“Can I read?” Zoe asked carefully.

“As I said,” Ellen replied, not looking at her, “just being here is enough.”

Zoe went to the bookshelf and picked out a book about horses. She opened it but didn’t read a single line.

Her thoughts drifted again — How will I survive this? How will I get through a single night here… let alone the days ahead?

She didn’t even want to think about what tomorrow might bring.