A year with the tycoon

CHAPTER 6

Hilda's POV

The automobile slackened, then came to a halt.

I raised my head and looked through the colored window. The gates before us were very high; higher than any structure I had ever seen. The shutters clanked softly as they opened, and the view of a long approach was opened, bordered with trimmed hedges, and on the right stood some statues of stone which appeared to be costly artwork.

“This is… his house?” I whispered, mostly to myself.

The driver stared at me over the rearview mirror. “Yes, ma’am. Ludwig Mansion.”

Ma’am.

My fingers rowed on the word strangely.

I closed my hand around my little bag. I could fit everything I had there: the clothes that were slightly scented with detergent, two old flat shoes, and documents. Nothing else.

The automobile took another moment to move to the gigantic structure. By the time it had ceased, I was out of it, and my legs were stiff, and my chest was tight. The mansion was coming near, pure glass and stone, cold and lovely, not even in need of warmth.

Before I could knock, the front door was open.

There was a queue of workers: uniformed women and men in suits. All looked at me at once.

Nothing was concealed in their eyes.

That being the case, Fraulein Ludwig, a more elderly lady, replied rather rigidly.

The title hit me hard. I was going to tell her off, but the words lodged in my throat.

I followed her inside.

Silence engulfed me at once. The marble floors rang under my feet. At the top of the room were chandeliers glimmering in the air, and the light was almost a spotlight rather than a welcome.

Somebody whispered behind me that she did not belong here.

The other voice answered, “Is it her? She looks so… ordinary.”

I continued to walk with my face burning.

Gregor was standing close to the staircase. He was in a dark suit, which had been ironed to death, as though it had been in a kind of obedience school. He did not change his face at my entrance.

“You’re on time,” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “I did not want to be late.”

He nodded once. “Good.”

That was it. No greeting. No warmth. Just business.

This is henceforth your home, he said, waving his hand. You will remain when you have nothing to do elsewhere.

I looked around again. “It’s very big.”

“It’s functional,” he replied. In the east wing, you will get rooms.

“Rooms?” I repeated.

“You will not share my bed”, he added placidly. “This is a contract marriage. We keep a distance.”

My heart suddenly sank, but I did not know why. “I understand.”

He studied me for a moment. “You are to be thoroughly acquainted with all of that. This is a way of securing my company and solving your money problems. Nothing more.”

“Yes,” I said again.

The maid cleared her throat. “Come with me, and I will show you around.”

Gregor dismissed it with a word.

Everyone seemed to be staring at me as we walked. The employees in the kitchen would pause in the middle of their work to gaze. One of the maids leaned over and whispered something I could not make out, but the smile told everything.

“Is everyone always so… quiet?” I asked the housekeeper.

It is no loud house, and so I said. “Mr Ludwig likes it quiet.”

She showed me the dining room, the library, and the garden, which could be seen through glass walls. Everything was beautiful, but dead, as in a museum.

At last, she stood in front of a door. “This is your bedroom.”

I pushed it open slowly.

The room was larger than my basement apartment. A king‑size bed. A sofa. A city view balcony. I could not breathe for a moment.

“This is for me?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I just nodded that I did not know what to say.

Afterwards, when I had put my bag into a wardrobe, which seemed to be empty even with my clothes in it, I sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped my palms together.

“You’re here,” I whispered. “You did it.”

But it was no winning of it.

I descended the stairs that evening to get water. I was passing through a corridor and heard the voices.

“She believes she does belong here?”

“She must be proud. Selling herself so high.”

I froze.

“At least she was not late, like the last woman.”

My heart leapt up when I learned that they were discussing me.

I withdrew and trembled.

Once I came to my room, the last thing I did was to push the door open and get a breath of cold air.

The bedside table had a framed photograph.

Gregor was standing next to a red-dressed lady. She was beautiful, tall, and her arm was found through his. She grinned as though she had the world, and him.

I picked up the frame slowly.

I read the name on the back, Amara Weiss, I said to myself.

My throat tightened.

This was the woman everybody compared me to.

I lowered the photo cautiously and sat on the bed, looking at the photo in silence as the silence sealed in.

Footsteps were passing outside the door. Laughter echoed faintly.

I was reclining and looking at the ceiling, and the truth was dawning upon me more than the fear.

I was not simply in the mansion of Gregor Ludwig.

I had gotten into a war that I did not know anything about, and I was already losing.