The Devil Chose Me

Chapter4

You're Safe Here

I didn't know how long I stood there after Lucien disappeared upstairs. The silence inside the mansion was cold as ice , broken only by the ticking of a grandfather clock somewhere down the hall. Everyone around me resumed whatever they had been doing, yet I could feel their curious glances lingering on me before quickly looking away whenever our eyes met. It was as if my presence alone had become the night's biggest mystery. The older woman stepped closer, offering me a small, polite smile.

"My name is Margaret."

Her voice was so soft enough to ease the tension lingering inside me, though not enough to make me forget where I was.

"I oversee the household"

I nodded weakly.

"I'm Elena"

"I know"

Of course she did.

Everyone here seemed to know everything about me.

"If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your room"

"I don't want a room"

She looked at me with quiet understanding.

"I know"

"I want to go home"

"I know"

My tears were about to come out again, but I bit the inside of my cheek until the pain distracted me. I refused to cry in front of strangers. I had done enough of that already. Margaret didn't pressure me. She simply waited until I finally took an unsteady step forward. The mansion was even larger than it had appeared from the outside. Every hallway seemed to stretch endlessly, decorated with expensive artwork, antique furniture, and towering windows that overlooked beautifully maintained gardens. It was breathtaking.

It was also suffocating. No matter how luxurious the surroundings were, I couldn't ignore the guards guarding nearly every entrance. Cameras followed every corridor, and heavy doors separated different sections of the house. It wasn't just a mansion. It was a fortress. Margaret stopped in front of a pair of white double doors and gently pushed them open.

"This will be your room."

My breath caught.

The room was larger than my entire apartment. A king sized bed sat in the center of the room beneath a crystal chandelier, while the floors where cover with a beautiful layered white and gold rug, with white encrusted window where you could see the rain soaked gardens outside. A fireplace crackled quietly in one corner, and fresh flowers rested on a polished wooden table beside a tray of tea and pastries.

For a brief second, I forgot to breathe.

"This"

I looked around in disbelief.

"Is this for me?"

Margaret nodded.

"Mr. Moretti instructed us to make sure you're comfortable"

Comfortable?

The word felt almost insulting. How could anyone be comfortable after being kidn*pped?

"I don't want any of this"

She sighed quietly.

"I understand"

"No"

I shook my head, frustration over taking my judgement.

"You don't understand. I don't care about the room. I don't care about the food or the flowers. I just want to go home."

Margaret's expression softened.

"I wish I could help you"

"Then help me"

"I can't"

"Why?"

For the first time, hesitation crossed her face.

"Because when Mr. Moretti makes a decision"

She lowered her eyes.

"No one can change it."

The hopelessness in her voice made my heart sink. Even the people who worked for him feared him. Margaret walked to the bedside table and placed my phone on it.

"He asked me to return this to you"

My eyes widened.

"My phone?"

I hurried over and picked it up, relief rushed through me before I quickly pressed the power button.

Nothing.

The battery had died.

"No"

I searched my bag frantically for my charger before remembering they had taken everything from me.

Margaret silently opened a drawer and handed me one.

"Thank you"

I plugged the phone into the wall, praying it would turn on quickly. The moment the screen lit up, dozens of missed calls and messages flooded in.

Grandma.

My chest tightened.

I immediately tried calling her.

The phone rang once.

Then the call ended.

Confused, I tried again.

The same thing happened.

A third attempt.

Again.

I looked up.

"Why won't it connect?"

Margaret looked away.

"The signal in this part of the estate is restricted."

My stomach dropped.

"So I can't call anyone?"

"I'm afraid not"

The hope that had bloomed inside me instantly vanished. I slowly lowered the phone, fighting back another wave of panic. This wasn't protection. This wasn't hospitality. This was captivity disguised as kindness. A gentle knock sounded at the open door. One of the guards stood outside.

"Mr. Moretti requests your presence"

My heart skipped.

"Now?"

"Yes"

I looked toward Margaret, silently hoping she would say I didn't have to go. Instead, she simply gave me an apologetic nod.

"I'll take you"

The walk felt much longer this time.

We climbed a swan of staircase before stopping outside a pair of dark wooden doors. The guard knocked once before opening them without waiting for permission.

The room inside was enormous, lined with towering bookshelves and dimly lit by a fireplace burning quietly near the far wall. Rain tapped softly against the windows, but it was impossible to focus on anything except the man standing beside them.

Lucien.

He had removed his coat and rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt, revealing the faint outline of old scars running along his forearms. One hand rested in his pocket while the other held a glass of whiskey.

He didn't turn around immediately.

"You wanted to speak to me?"

My voice sounded much smaller than I intended. After a long pause, he finally faced me. His gray eyes settled on mine with the same unsettling calm.

"I wanted you to understand one thing."

I swallowed.

"What?"

He took a slow step toward me.

Then another.

Until only a few feet separated us.

"You are not my prisoner, Elena"

I stared at him, unable to hide my disbelief.

"Really?"

His gaze never wavered.

"No"

I let out a bitter laugh.

"You brought me here against my will."

"I did"

"You took my phone."

"Yes"

"I can't leave."

"No"

Anger rose inside me.

"And you expect me to believe I'm not your prisoner?"

For the first time since we met, something almost resembling emotion crossed his face.

His jaw tightened.

"You misunderstand"

He held my gaze as his voice dropped into a quiet, dangerous tone.

"You're not here because I want to keep you"

A heavy silence settled between us.

"You're here"

He took one final st

ep closer.

"because if you walk out of this house tonight"

His gray eyes darkened.

"you'll be dead before sunrise".