Cloak Of Deception

His Wife

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on Esme's face, stirring her from her troubled slumber. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, she forgot where she was. Reality came crashing down as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings, the events of the previous day flooding back to her.

Esme sat up on the sofa, her body stiff from the uncomfortable position she had slept in. She rubbed her eyes, trying to chase away the remnants of sleep, and turned her attention to the bed. Mason was no longer there.

Feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation, Esme quickly gathered some clothes and freshened up before walking towards the door. She knew she would have to face Mason sooner or later, but she couldn't help but hope to avoid him for as long as possible.

As she made her way to the kitchen, Esme was met by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The housekeeper, Martha, greeted her with a warm smile. "Good morning, ma'am. How did you sleep?"

Esme forced a smile in return, not wanting to burden the kind woman with her troubles. "As well as can be expected, thank you."

Martha nodded in understanding, handing Esme a cup of coffee. "You'll feel more at home in no time. Now, would you like some breakfast? Mr. Mason has already eaten, but I'd be happy to make you something."

Esme took a sip of the hot beverage, feeling a sense of comfort wash over her. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

As Martha busied herself with preparing breakfast, Esme couldn't help but wonder how her life had taken such a drastic turn. She missed Chris, her friends, and the simple pleasures of her old life. But most of all, she longed for the freedom to make her own choices, to live life on her own terms.

Lost in her thoughts, Esme didn't notice Mason's presence until he was standing right beside her. She flinched, nearly spilling her coffee as she looked up into his piercing hazel eyes.

"I have a conference call this morning," he said, his tone all business. "You are to stay in the house until I return. Understood?"

Esme swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mason gave her a curt nod before turning on his heel and striding out of the kitchen, leaving Esme alone with her thoughts once more.

Esme's gaze met Martha's, who appeared to be in her mid-fifties. Martha offered a warm smile and reassured her, "You'll get used to it."

Esme set her coffee down on the kitchen counter and took a seat on a nearby stool. With a hint of concern, she inquired, "Is he always like that?"

Martha, now chopping a carrot, glanced at Esme and replied, "He may seem cold on the outside, but deep down, he's a kind person."

Esme raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident on her face. "Doesn't seem that way to me."

Martha continued to smile knowingly. "With time, you'll see," she said, returning her focus to the carrot.

Esme brought her coffee to her lips, taking a sip as a young woman in pink pajamas entered the kitchen. She appeared to be around the same age as Esme, with brown hair tied in a bun, held in place by a pink band. Her fair skin and light brown eyes bore a striking resemblance to Mason's, leaving Esme with no doubt that she was his sister.

Rose, still half-asleep, rubbed her neck and called out, "Martha, fetch me some water." Martha promptly stopped cutting the carrot and went to get her a glass of water. As Rose gradually became more awake, she paused, noticing Esme's presence. Intrigued, she inquired, "Hmm, who do we have here?"

Martha, smiling, handed Rose a cup of water, and Rose, now turning her attention back to Esme, thanked Martha. Feeling awkward under Rose's gaze, Esme stood up from her seat and introduced herself, "I'm Esme."

Rose, seemingly surprised, placed her hands on her waist and questioned Martha, "Mrs. Martha, I didn't know you had a grown-up daughter? Last time I checked, Antoine was your only son."

"I'm Mason's wife," Esme clarified, her eyes fixed on Rose.

Upon hearing that Esme was Mason's wife, Rose's eyes widened in shock, and she nearly choked on her water, spluttering it onto Esme's face. Still coughing, Rose struggled to speak and apologized profusely, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" She quickly grabbed some tissues to help Esme wipe her face.

Holding her chest, Rose attempted to catch her breath and giggled, wearing an amused expression on her face. "Caught me by surprise," she admitted. Abruptly shifting her focus, she asked excitedly, "He's married? How? When? Where?!"

Esme stood silently, observing Rose's rapid shifts in emotion. Before she could process the situation, Rose eagerly grabbed Esme's arm and said, "Come, let's talk," leading her towards the spacious, white-furnished sitting room. Martha watched them walk away, a knowing smile gracing her lips.

As Esme and Rose entered the sitting room, Rose gestured towards a plush, cream-colored sofa. "Please, have a seat," she said, her excitement still evident.

Esme cautiously sat down, feeling overwhelmed by Rose's sudden interest in her. She couldn't help but wonder how Mason would feel about his sister's involvement in their situation.

Rose settled into a nearby armchair, an eager expression on her face. "So, tell me everything," she began, leaning forward. "How did you and Mason meet?"

Esme hesitated, unsure of how much she should reveal. She decided to stick as close to the truth as possible without divulging the dark circumstances surrounding their forced marriage. "We met at a party," she started, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was a brief encounter, but I guess we made an impression on each other."

Rose's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "How romantic! I never would have guessed my brother had it in him. He's always been so focused on work and taking care of the family. I'm glad he finally found someone to share his life with."

Esme felt a pang of guilt, knowing that their marriage was anything but romantic. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, searching for a way to change the subject.

Before she could speak, Rose continued, "You know, Mason has always been a bit of a mystery. He keeps everything bottled up inside. But I can tell that he cares deeply for those he loves, even if he doesn't always show it."

Esme's heart ached as she thought about Mason's cold behavior towards her, wondering if there was any truth to Rose's words. Could there be more to him than the ruthless exterior he presented?

"Tell me more," Rose urged excitedly, tugging at Esme's clothes. "I can't believe he kept it a secret! What's he like? How was your first night?" she asked, bombarding Esme with questions.

Just then, a deep voice echoed behind them. "You sure like digging into my private matters, don't you?" Mason said, standing with his hands in his pockets. Esme's heart skipped a beat as he stared directly at her, his dark hair styled fashionably, eyebrows neatly trimmed, and deep, hazel eyes. His toned body and attractive features made Esme's heart race.

Rose sighed and stood up, her eyes looking downward as she said in a low tone, "I'm not digging into your business; I'm just catching up with your wife."

"My wife?" Mason asked, his gaze shifting to Esme.

"Aren't you married?" Rose questioned, looking confused.

Mason then stared at Esme, his eyes shooting daggers as he asked Rose, "What are you doing here anyway? Don't you have classes today?"

Rose glanced at Esme and mouthed "sorry" before leaving the room.

Esme stood up, staring at Mason. After a few tense moments, he said coldly, "Get dressed in ten minutes and meet me outside." With that, he strode out of the room.

As Mason turned and left, Esme breathed a sigh of relief. She had never felt so intimidated by a man's presence before, and she always seemed to be at a loss for words whenever she faced him. Holding her cheeks, she whispered, "This is trouble," before striding out to get ready.