You Are Mine

Chapter 5

*Aurora's POV*

"No, take the pickles away."

"Yes, sir."

I hear voices coming from the dining area.

At last. I need to eat.

The moment I stepped down the last stair, a pair of ocean-blue eyes fixed on me. Oh God.

I decided to ignore him and move straight to the kitchen.

"And where do you think you are going?"

His baritone voice boomed, making me halt my step. I turned toward the dining room, facing him.

"I don't like repeating myself."

"I want to see Emma," I said.

He gave a low chuckle as he leaned back in his seat. "Hahaha."

"A slave. You think you have the right to move around freely?"

As he said that, I felt my heart sink.

"I just need to eat."

"You can only eat what remains of my food. Nothing more."

Never.

You're a devil, and I will never eat what you've had. I could only say that in my head.

"Go back to your room."

The room? No. I am really hungry and I need to eat something.

My stomach gave a low grumble, reminding me again.

"Please. I am really hungry. I need to eat," I pleaded with him.

"You have no right to make me say it twice."

Tears welled up in my eyes. I looked around to find the maids lined up at the corner. Ann was there, looking at me with a sarcastic smile.

I wiped my tears and went back upstairs.

I turned the doorknob to go in but found out it was locked.

"What is happening? Why is it locked?" I asked myself, expecting no answer.

"That's because you can't use the room anymore." I heard footsteps behind me and that voice. It's Ann.

I turned to face her.

"Who locked my room?"

"I did. And point of correction, you do not own anything here."

"You can say anything you want. I have no business with you."

With that, I went back down the stairs again.

This is so unacceptable. I can let go of the food for him, but not my sleeping space.

Reaching the dining area, he noticed me and stopped eating.

"Why did you order someone to lock the room?" I asked.

He didn't answer. He simply mixed the leftover food on the table with his fork.

"I asked again. Why did you send someone to lock the room?"

He didn't answer me. He stood up to leave.

I blocked his path.

"Damien, I am talking to you..."

His hand flew to my throat, lifting me a bit above the ground.

I coughed and scratched at his hand, trying to free myself, but he didn't budge.

"Damien, what are you doing..." I squeezed out the words.

"You dare not raise your voice at me. Never ever think of doing that again."

He let go of me, and I landed on the floor with a thud.

"If you want to eat, eat what's on the table. And for your place to sleep—there's a corner at the end of the hallway that leads to my room. You'll find a room with no door," he said and gave a light chuckle.

He bent down and brushed the hair that had fallen into my face away, slowly.

"You're going to enjoy your night there." With that, he pushed my face away and went upstairs.

Who said I would sleep there? I will escape soon.

My stomach grumbled again.

I took the leftovers on the table and went to the back of the mansion. I found a little hidden spot to sit and eat the leftovers. At least this place is free from Ann and her maniacs.

The food was cold. There were bits of bread, a few vegetables, and the sauce he hadn’t touched. I ate quickly, my hands shaking. I kept looking over my shoulder like someone would come and snatch it from me.

When I was done, I let out a shaky breath. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

I went back inside and washed the dishes in the kitchen. The other servants avoided me. No one spoke. I kept my head down and worked fast.

After that, I went to bring in the old clothes I had washed earlier. They were still damp, but I hung them on the line anyway.

Then I went back upstairs to find the corner he talked about.

No way. I was shocked by the sight in front of me.

This is the place he meant. A little space at the end of the hallway. Rounded walls, like it was meant for storage, not for a person. A small peep window at the top side of the wall, covered only with a metal protector. Even the rain could hit me through there if I slept here.

Why me? Why me, God?

I sat down in the corner of the room and cried silently. The floor was cold concrete. There was dust in the air.

But at least the room had what looked like a toilet and a small shower in the corner, separated by a thin curtain.

Maybe if I sleep, all of this sad experience will go away.

My mind drifted back to my dad.

Dad, how did you get me into this mess?

I walked into the bathroom and took a quick shower. The water was cold. I didn’t care. I needed to feel clean.

I changed into one of the old clothes. It was oversized, the sleeves hanging past my hands, but I would manage.

I gathered the pieces of cardboard scattered around the room and laid them on the floor. It wasn’t a bed, but it was better than sleeping directly on the concrete.

I curled up on them and pulled my knees to my chest.

The house was quiet now. I could hear the wind outside through the little window.

Tears slipped down my cheeks again.

I was eighteen. I was supposed to be worrying about exams and graduation. Not this.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

---

Hours passed.

I woke up to footsteps in the hallway. Heavy. Slow.

My heart jumped into my throat.

The footsteps stopped right outside my little room.

Silence.

I held my breath.

Then the footsteps continued and faded away.

Damien.

He was probably checking to see if I was really in here.

I buried my face in my arms.

Morning came too fast. Light filtered through the small window above me. It was gray and weak.

My back hurt. My neck hurt. I was hungry again.

I stood up, my legs stiff, and went to the small bathroom to wash my face. The mirror was cracked. I barely recognized myself.

There was a soft knock on the wall outside.

"Aurora?"

Emma.

I opened the small door and stepped out. She was standing there with a tray.

"Child, I brought you this," she whispered. "Don't let them see."

On the tray was bread, an egg, and a cup of water. Real food. Not leftovers.

I stared at it and then at her. My throat tightened.

"Emma... you shouldn't. If he finds out..."

"He won't," she said quickly. "Eat it now. Before anyone comes."

I took the tray with trembling hands and sat on the cardboard. I ate like I hadn’t eaten in days, because I hadn’t.

"Thank you," I whispered between bites. "Thank you so much."

Emma smiled sadly and brushed a strand of hair from my face.

"You remind me of my daughter. She’s about your age."

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"You need to be careful," she said. "Damien is in a bad mood today. There was a problem with one of his shipments last night. Don’t talk back to him. Just... survive today, okay?"

I nodded.

She squeezed my hand and then left, glancing down the hallway before disappearing.

I finished the food and hid the tray under the cardboard. If Ann found it, Emma would be in trouble.

Later, I heard voices from downstairs again.

"Has she eaten the leftovers?" Ann’s voice.

"Yes, she did. At the back of the house," another maid replied.

"Pathetic," Ann scoffed. "She thinks she can survive here?"

I stayed quiet in my corner.

At noon, Damien came home.

I heard the front door slam. I heard him barking orders.

"Where is she?"

"In the corner room, sir."

"Good."

More footsteps. This time they stopped right in front of my room.

He didn’t come in. He just stood there.

I could see his shadow through the doorway.

"Clean the hallway," he said finally. "And the windows. And the guest rooms. All of it. Today."

"Yes, sir," I answered quietly from inside.

"Good. And Aurora?"

"Yes?"

"If I find one speck of dust, you won’t eat for two days."

Then he walked away.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I spent the whole day cleaning. My knees were bruised. My hands were raw.

But I did it. Every hallway. Every window. Every guest room.

When I was done, the sun was setting.

I went back to my little room and collapsed on the cardboard.

I was so tired. So hungry again. So alone.

But I was still here.

I was still breathing.

And as long as I was breathing, I wasn’t going to let him break me.

Not yet.

I closed my eyes and whispered into the dark,

"One day, Damien. One day I’m getting out of here."