Chapter 31
1177 Words
Arya’s POV
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The morning light slipped through the blinds, casting soft lines across the room, but I barely noticed. I hadn’t slept much. Maybe an hour or two. My eyes were swollen, my chest hollow.
I dragged myself out of bed and wrapped my blanket tighter around me. I didn’t open the door when breakfast came. I didn’t move when I heard the knock. I just sat there on the floor, curled into myself.
The walls felt closer today. The room smaller. The silence louder.
By noon, I forced myself to stand and walk to the window. The view outside looked the same—trees gently swaying, security guards doing their patrols, everything still moving—just not my world.
I missed Leon Kael.
Even if he barely talked to me. Even if he made me feel like an unwanted guest sometimes. At least his presence reminded me I wasn’t alone.
Now? I was just a girl in a big mansion with nothing but silence.
No goodbye.
No explanation.
I blinked and stepped back from the window, pacing slowly to the vanity. My eyes landed on the bottle of pain meds the doctor gave me. I picked them up, turning them around in my hand, then set them down and looked at myself in the mirror.
My eyes were tired. My cheeks pale.
This wasn’t me.
I needed to do something before this house swallowed me whole.
So I pulled on a hoodie, stuffed some cash Leon had once left on the dresser into the pocket, and unlocked the door. I didn’t know where I was going. Maybe just to breathe.
I reached the hallway.
Empty.
Good.
But as I moved towards the stairs, I heard whispers—maids talking.
"...still no word from the boss?"
"No. It’s been a month. Something's off. He never vanishes like this."
"Think it has something to do with her?"
I stopped moving.
"Maybe. You didn’t see how he left that day? He was fuming. And the way he fired Collins for touching her—"
I took a step back, heart hammering.
Are they right?
No. That couldn’t be. He didn’t even like me.
Did he?
I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned, heading back to my room.
If Leon didn’t want to tell me where he was, that was fine.
But I wasn’t going to stay here, trapped in a mansion full of people who didn’t want me here either.
**
I woke up the next morning and knew I couldn’t do it anymore.
Another day inside this massive, cold house where even the walls felt like they were judging me? No. I needed to leave. If Leon wasn’t coming back, then what exactly was I still doing here?
I didn’t pack much. Just the essentials. The hoodie I wore yesterday, a few clothes stuffed into the small backpack I found in the closet. No phone. No wallet. Nothing else was really mine.
I scribbled a short note on the back of a receipt I found on the kitchen counter:
“Thank you for everything. I’m not staying anymore. I’ll figure the rest out.” – Ayra
I placed it on the mahogany table in his study room easy enough for him to see it when he returns.
Sneaking past the guard quarter wasn’t as hard as I thought. Most of them weren’t even near the main building this early. I walked fast but quiet, sticking to the hedge-lined path, heart pounding in my chest.
When I finally reached the outer gate, I didn’t even pause.
“Miss Ayra?” One of the younger guards called, confused.
“I just need to take a walk,” I said without stopping.
“But—”
“I won’t go far.”
He hesitated, then nodded. I could tell he didn’t want problems.
And with that, I slipped out of the estate. No plan. No direction.
I just walked.
The air outside felt different. Freer.
I didn’t know where I was going — maybe to a bus stop, maybe to the corner of the city that led back toward Phoenicia. Maybe to Mama Tee’s. Anywhere was better than a place where I was invisible.
*
I had been walking for what felt like forever — if I were to calculate it mentally, maybe thirty minutes or more — and not a single person had passed me. Not one car.
The roads were strangely quiet, endless, and winding… all looping back to where I came from.
Leon’s mansion.
Where was this place? A private estate? A hidden district? I never noticed before how isolated it all was — how he made sure the world outside stayed out, and everything inside stayed trapped.
I kept walking anyway, heart heavy, mind loud.
And then... a car.
It drove past slowly, then braked ahead.
I stopped.
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the back of the black vehicle, my gut twisting.
Leon?
I stayed still. My fists clenched at my side.
If it’s him… do I even want to go back?
Back to that house where people speak with silence. Where meals are served but words are not. Where I sit by a window every day like I’m a prisoner waiting to be remembered?
Tears clouded my eyes at the thought of Phoenicia.
At the thought of Mama Tee… and the risk of my dad seeing me again.
Would he kill me this time? Or just sell me off properly?
I heard the car door open.
“Ayra,”
My head snapped up as I recognized the voice that called my name.
I let out a dry, hollow chuckle when I saw who it was. My eyes scanned him from head to toe.
"Of course it’s you," I muttered.
And then I turned and started walking away.
The last thing I needed was his false concern.
His footsteps quickened behind me, but so did mine. Until I was running. Away.
But a hand caught my wrist.
I was yanked back, my back hitting something solid.
His chest.
"Where are you going?" he asked, voice low — frustrated, angry maybe.
I didn’t care.
I pushed at him with all my strength, my tears finally falling freely. My voice cracked but I shouted anyway.
"Back to my dad’s graveyard!" I spat. "At least that’s better than sitting in a room all day being treated like I don’t exist. Being treated as a burden.”
His eyes narrowed, but I didn’t wait for a response.
I broke free, running blindly, feet slamming against the empty road.
Running from him.
From the house.
From everything.
Tears streaked down my face, falling like rain. But I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t.
The chapter of living with Leon Kael… it ended the moment he made me feel like I was nothing but a charity case. An obligation.
Now I had to face the truth. The reality.
And that reality?
Was with the people my father left me to.
Even if it killed me.
- Writer
