MYSTERY
1313 Words
As Agatha wandered through the vast garden of the Draven estate, she couldn’t help but admire its beauty. The perfectly trimmed hedges, the soft scent of blooming roses, and the gentle sound of a fountain in the center of the courtyard made the place feel almost surreal. It was a stark contrast to the cold and imposing mansion that loomed in the background.
She had spent days inside, feeling suffocated by the grandeur of it all. But now, with the fresh air filling her lungs and the golden light of the late afternoon sun warming her skin, she felt a fleeting sense of peace.
Her gaze drifted toward the mansion once more. It truly was magnificent—an architectural masterpiece, standing proudly against the Swiss landscape. Yet, despite its beauty, it felt empty. Hollow.
Her thoughts wandered to Alexander’s family. She knew from various articles that his mother had passed away years ago—it had been major news in Switzerland at the time. But what about his father? She had yet to see or hear anything about Victor Draven since arriving at the estate. Was he even here?
As she strolled further along the stone pathway, admiring the delicate arrangements of flowers, a voice pulled her from her thoughts.
“Good afternoon, Miss Hale.”
Agatha turned to see a middle-aged woman dressed in a crisp black uniform. Her posture was perfect, and her expression was unreadable—polite but distant.
“Claudia,” Agatha acknowledged with a small smile. She had heard from the other staff that Claudia was the head maid, running the household with unwavering discipline.
“You seem to enjoy the garden,” Claudia remarked, her sharp eyes observing Agatha carefully.
“I do,” Agatha admitted. “It’s breathtaking. This whole estate is.” She hesitated before adding, “I was just wondering… where is Mr. Draven’s father? I haven’t seen him.”
Claudia’s expression stiffened ever so slightly. “Mr. Victor Draven does not reside in the estate,” she replied, her tone carefully measured.
Agatha frowned. “Oh? I assumed he would be living here.”
Claudia gave a slight nod, as if debating how much to reveal. “He prefers to stay in his private residence in Zurich. He rarely visits.”
Agatha studied her, sensing that there was more to the story. But Claudia’s expression gave nothing away.
“What about the house itself?” Agatha tried, shifting the conversation. “It must hold a lot of history.”
Claudia relaxed slightly at the change in subject. “Indeed, it does. The Draven estate has stood for generations. Every detail, every piece of furniture, has been carefully maintained to preserve its legacy.”
Agatha let her fingers brush against the smooth stone of a nearby fountain. “And Alexander? Did he always live here?”
Claudia hesitated again, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Mr. Draven has always had a strong connection to this house, though his time here has not always been… peaceful.”
Agatha tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Claudia’s expression remained unreadable. “Forgive me, Miss Hale, but that is not my story to tell.”
A small chill ran through Agatha at the way Claudia said it—careful, guarded. There was so much about Alexander that remained a mystery to her. And everyone in this house seemed to know more than they were willing to share.
Before she could ask anything further, Claudia straightened. “If you need anything, Miss Hale, do not hesitate to call on me.” With that, she gave a polite nod and excused herself, disappearing down the garden path.
Agatha watched her go, feeling more curious than ever.
That night, no matter how much Agatha tried to push the thoughts away, she couldn’t stop thinking about Alexander.
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting faint shadows across the room. The sheets felt cold around her, the silence of the mansion pressing against her like an invisible weight.
Why was he avoiding her?
She hadn’t seen him since the pre-wedding party. Not once. No accidental meetings in the hallways, no late-night encounters in the grand dining room. It was as if he had completely removed himself from her world, leaving her to exist in this house alone.
And yet, he wasn’t gone.
Every morning, a new bouquet of fresh flowers arrived at her door, a silent reminder of his presence. It was the only proof she had that he still acknowledged her existence. But it wasn’t enough. She would wake up to another day of solitude, with only the maids and the wedding coordinator to keep her company. Veronica and Benny visited as often as they could, filling the mansion with laughter and excitement over the upcoming wedding. Benny was especially thrilled, constantly gushing over how grand everything was, oblivious to the truth behind it all.
Agatha turned onto her side, gripping the blanket tighter around her.
She hated the way he occupied her thoughts. The way his absence gnawed at her in ways she couldn’t understand. She had spent years without him—without even knowing him—so why did it bother her now?
Maybe it was because she had expected something different.
Not love, not romance. But something.
Something more than just silence.
The sudden ringing of her phone shattered the stillness of the room.
Agatha’s heart pounded in her chest, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the screen, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for it.
Alexander.
She swallowed, trying to compose herself, but she couldn’t understand why her pulse was racing. It wasn’t as if she had been waiting for his call—at least, that’s what she told herself.
Slowly, she picked up the phone, pressing it into her ear.
And then, that voice.
Deep, smooth, and commanding, filling the empty space around her.
“Are you ready for the wedding day?”
His words were devoid of emotion, spoken as if he were discussing a business deal rather than their impending marriage.
Agatha blinked, gripping the phone tighter. Of course, that’s exactly what this was—a business deal. She had no reason to feel anything about it. And yet, his voice sent a shiver down her spine, awakening something unfamiliar inside her.
She took a moment before responding, forcing her voice to remain steady.
“Everything is ready, just like you planned.”
A beat of silence.
She thought she heard the faintest hint of amusement in his exhale, but it was gone too quickly to be certain.
“Good,” he said, his tone unwavering. “I’ll see you at the altar, Agatha.”
And then, just as she was about to pull the phone away from her ear, his voice dropped lower, a whisper of possessiveness threading through his next words.
“You’ll finally be mine.”
A slow, deliberate statement. Not a question, not a mere observation. A promise. A claim.
Her breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the phone.
“Good night, sweetheart.”
And just like that, the call ended.
But his voice lingered, echoing in her mind long after the silence returned.
She stared at the screen, her heart still pounding, her mind racing with thoughts she didn’t want to acknowledge.
He hadn’t seen her in weeks, hadn’t spoken to her until now, and yet a single phone call was enough to make her feel as if he was right there in the room with her.
You’ll finally be mine.
She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, setting the phone down beside her.
For the first time since this arrangement began, reality hit her with full force.
In a matter of days, she would be Agatha Draven.
- Writer
