Betrayed Into His Arms

4.

The warm water running over Ophelia's trembling hands did little to calm her racing heart.

She stood before the elegant marble sink inside one of the guest suites, desperately trying to scrub the crimson wine stain from the front of her navy-blue dress.

The fabric was ruined….not that it mattered anymore. Everything else in her life had already fallen apart.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. Before she could respond, the bathroom door opened ever so slightly.

A young maid slipped inside.

She couldn't have been older than twenty-five, her plain uniform slightly wrinkled, her frightened brown eyes darting nervously toward the closed door before settling on Ophelia.

"Miss..." she whispered.

Ophelia quickly turned. "Are you all right?"

The maid shook her head. Her voice trembled. "You have to leave this place."

Ophelia frowned. "...What?"

"You cannot marry Mr. Hawthorne." The words came out so quickly they barely sounded human. "You don't understand."

The maid hurried closer, lowering her voice until it became nothing more than a desperate whisper. "Everyone who has entered this house believing they could survive him has either disappeared... or wished they had."

Ophelia stared at her.

"I don't understand."

The maid reached into the pocket of her apron with shaking fingers.

She pulled out a small mobile phone. "My brother worked security here." She unlocked the screen before showing Ophelia several photographs.

The first showed a maid with bruises covering her arms.

The second...

A bedroom destroyed, furniture overturned and blood stained across expensive white sheets.

Ophelia's breathing became uneven.

The third image showed an older housekeeper crying beside an ambulance parked outside the estate gates.

"What happened?"

The maid swallowed hard.

"No one asks." She looked toward the door again. "If you ask too many questions..."

Her voice cracked. "...you disappear."

Ophelia felt the blood drain from her face.

The maid grabbed both of her hands. "Listen to me." Tears gathered in her eyes. "My mother spent thirty years working here."

"She used to tell me this house isn't a home."

"It's a prison."

Ophelia's heartbeat echoed loudly inside her ears.

"I can't leave."

"You can." The maid squeezed her hands tighter.

"I know a way."

...

Five minutes later...

The two women hurried through a quiet servants' corridor hidden behind the grand staircase.

Every passing second felt stolen, every distant footstep made Ophelia jump.

They slipped through a back door into the gardens.

The evening breeze hit Ophelia's face.

The maid pointed toward the tall stone wall surrounding the estate. "There's a ladder hidden behind those hedges."

They ran, branches scratched Ophelia's arms as they pushed through thick shrubs.

The old wooden ladder still rested against the wall exactly where the maid had promised. "Hurry."

The maid climbed first.

She reached the top before extending her hand. "Come."

Ophelia climbed after her, every step making the ladder creak dangerously.

Her fingers wrapped around the top of the wall. She could already see the road outside.

Just a little farther...

Then…Bang! The deafening crack shattered the evening silence.

Warm droplets splashed across Ophelia's face.

The maid's eyes widened. For a split second… Neither of them moved. Then the maid looked down at the spreading crimson stain blooming across her uniform.

She gasped.

Her fingers slipped.

"No..." Ophelia reached for her.

Too late, the maid fell backward. Her body struck the stone pathway below with a sickening thud.

"NO!" Ophelia scrambled down the ladder, dropping to her knees beside her. Blood pooled beneath the young woman's body, her lips trembled.

"Run..."

She struggled to breathe. "...don't..." Her eyes slowly lost focus. "...stay..."

Ophelia's hands shook violently as she cradled the maid's head.

"No..."

Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. "You promised..."

Footsteps echoed behind her.

Edmund Hawthorne sat in his customized wheelchair, one hand resting calmly on the armrest.

The other held a pistol.

Several armed guards stood behind him.

The old man's expression remained frighteningly calm. "So..." His raspy voice cut through the silence.

"My future wife wished to leave."

Ophelia couldn't stop shaking.

"W-Where..." Her voice barely existed. "...where's my father?"

Edmund chuckled. "He left."

The words hit her harder than any slap.

"He trusted my men to watch over you."

Ophelia felt utterly alone.

Edmund slowly rolled closer. "So..." He tilted his head. "...where were you going?"

She instinctively stepped backward. "N-nowhere."

"No?" His lips curved into an unsettling smile.

"You climbed my wall for exercise?"

"I..." She couldn't speak.

The gun slowly lifted.

Ophelia squeezed her eyes shut.

This was it….he was going to die.

But instead of another sound...a sharp gasp. She opened her eyes too see Edmund's expression had changed completely.

His hand flew to his chest, his breathing became labored.

The pistol slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the stone as his face turned pale.

Sweat poured from his forehead, he struggled to inhale. One hand gripped the side of his wheelchair while the other clawed desperately at his shirt.

"Sir!" The guards rushed forward.

Edmund's eyes rolled backward, his body slumped sideways.

The wheelchair tipped.

He crashed heavily onto the ground and everything descended into chaos.

"Call an ambulance!"

"Get the doctor!"

"Move!"

The guards panicked.

No one seemed to know what to do.

Ophelia looked toward the open estate gates.

She could run, no one was watching her anymore. Freedom was only a few steps away.

Her eyes drifted toward Edmund.

The old man lay motionless.

Despite everything… She couldn't leave another person to die.

She hurried toward him. "Help me turn him."

The guards hesitated. "Do something!"

Her desperate voice finally snapped them into action.

Within minutes...

Sirens echoed through the estate.

...

City General Hospital.

Doctors and nurses rushed Edmund through the emergency department while security surrounded the corridor.

Ophelia sat quietly outside the intensive care unit. Blood from the maid still stained the sleeve of her dress.

She couldn't stop staring at it. After what felt like hours… A nephrologist finally emerged.

The middle-aged doctor removed his mask before addressing the guards. "Mr. Hawthorne's kidneys have deteriorated significantly."

Everyone fell silent.

"He has advanced chronic kidney disease."

"We've stabilized him for now, but his potassium level became dangerously high, placing severe stress on his heart."

The doctor sighed. "He'll require immediate dialysis."

One guard stepped forward. "Will he survive?"

"If treatment continues."

The doctor nodded. "But he needs long-term planning."

"His condition has progressed considerably."

Ophelia lowered her eyes. Even someone as feared as Edmund Hawthorne could be helpless.

Later that night… Edmund slowly opened his eyes.

The room remained dimly lit.

He immediately noticed Ophelia sitting quietly beside the window. She stood the moment she realized he was awake.

"You stayed."

It wasn't a question.

She nodded. "You collapsed."

A faint laugh escaped him. "You could've escaped."

Ophelia gathered every ounce of courage she had. "I want to make a deal."

Edmund raised an eyebrow. "A deal?"

"I saved your life."

His eyes narrowed.

"I don't want to marry you." She forced herself to meet his gaze. "I never did. I only wanted my father to stop suffering."

She swallowed hard. "If you truly appreciate what I did today..." Her voice trembled. "...release me."

Edmund watched her for a long moment. "You negotiate boldly."

"I have nothing left to lose."

A slow smile spread across his face. "You interest me, Ophelia Black." He motioned toward his lawyer, who stood quietly outside the room. "Prepare an agreement."

The lawyer entered immediately.

Edmund spoke without taking his eyes off Ophelia. "The marriage is suspended indefinitely. The Black family's immediate debt to me will be settled under revised terms."

"Miss Black will receive financial assistance for her education and living expenses."

"In return..."

He paused. "...she owes me one promise."

Ophelia's heart pounded. "What promise?"

"When I ask to speak with you... You will come."

Her eyes filled with tears.

She signed. As the pen left the paper, relief washed over her like sunlight after a storm.

Maybe...Just maybe… Life was finally giving her another chance.

As a nurse prepared a mild sedative to help calm her after the traumatic evening, Ophelia leaned back in the hospital chair.

Her eyelids grew heavy. Before sleep claimed her, memories surfaced.

A tiny house filled with laughter. Her mother humming softly while preparing dinner. Her father lifting her onto his shoulders, promising she would always be his little princess.

Those memories felt like they belonged to another lifetime.

Then Veronica arrived and everything changed.

As darkness gently pulled her under, one final thought echoed through her exhausted mind.

Maybe... one day... I'll have a home that feels like that again.