Mia
"Miss, Miss, please wake up. It's morning already."
I groaned softly as the maid's voice tugged me out of my peaceful sleep.
For the first time in forever, I'd slept like a baby.
The mattress beneath me felt like clouds, and the pillow cradled my head in perfect comfort.
"Uhm, good morning," I mumbled groggily, rubbing my eyes and stretching my arms.
The maid stood patiently, giving me a small nod.
"You need to have your bath now, Miss," she said, walking toward the bathroom.
I frowned at her words, still a little disoriented. Do they really expect me to get used to this? For them bathing me or more? Never!
"Wait, are you going to run the bath for me or something? Perhaps, bath me up again today like I'm some little disabled child, huh?" I asked, a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
She didn't answer, instead she disappeared into the bathroom leaving me in awe, staring at the door intently.
A moment later, I heard the sound of running water.
This is so Unbelievable and unacceptable. It's all that annoying devil's instructions!
That lord Bryan is surely a dick head that needs to be tamed with a leash!
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stretched again, trying to shake off my grogginess.
Minutes later after having my shower, one of the bodyguards barged into the room.
He was holding a bag that looked like it contained clothes. Without a word, he handed it to me.
"What's this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, not bothering to check it out myself; wanting to hear it from the horse's mouth.
"Your clothes," he said bluntly.
"Get dressed and don't step out of this room unless you want trouble with Lord Bryan. This is an important instruction from him to you!"
My temper flared at his commanding tone. "Do I look like a prisoner to you?" I snapped, crossing my arms defiantly as I glared intently at him in anger.
He smirked, his expression unreadable.
"Trying to act tough, right? If I were to be you, I'll do as I am told. Do you know why? Because you don't know the man you're dealing with."
"If you are to be dealt with by him, you won't live to tell the story, sweetheart. Just be at your best behavior and you'll be fine," he said, a smirk plastered on his face before he turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.
I stared at the closed door for a moment, seething.
"Am I a Prisoner? That's exactly how they're treating me!"
Pulling the dress out of the bag, I frowned. It was short—too short.
I held it up, inspecting it. The fabric was luxurious, but the length left little to the imagination.
I tugged at the hem, trying to make it more modest, but it was no use.
"Seriously? Can't they find something less revealing?" I muttered, rolling my eyes.
I put on the dress reluctantly, feeling self-conscious as I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
The hemline rested well above my knees, and no amount of tugging would change that.
My stomach growled, and I turned to the tray of food on the table, brought by the maid.
It smelled heavenly—eggs, toast, and fresh fruit—but I wasn't ready to eat.
Not yet.
"I need to look around," I decided, heading for the door. It's a good thing the maids had left.
I turned the knob slowly, peeking out into the hallway. It was quiet, the soft glow of morning light filtering through the windows.
Carefully, I slipped out, closing the door behind me.
I tiptoed down the hallway, my bare feet making no sound on the cool tiles.
As I walked, I noticed a large door at the end of the corridor. Something about it piqued my curiosity, and I found myself drawn to it.
"Is this his room the previous day?" I wondered aloud.
I placed my hand on the doorknob and pushed it open slowly, stepping inside.
My breath caught as I took in the wonderful sight before me.
The room was stunning, every detail exuding wealth and power.
The gold accents gleamed under the light, and the furniture looked like it belonged in a palace.
My eyes wandered to a shelf lined with trophies. Each one was beautifully crafted, and I couldn't resist stepping closer to examine them.
"Who is this guy?" I whispered, picking up one of the trophies. It was heavy and intricately designed, made of gold and glass.
I was about to pick up another when a cold voice sliced through the air, making me freeze in place.
"How dare you touch my things!"
I spun around, heart racing. Lord Bryan stood in the doorway, his icy gaze fixed on me.
Before I could say a word, the trophy slipped from my hands, shattering on the floor.
I gasped, my hands flying to cover my mouth as I stared at the broken pieces in horror.
Mrs. Johnson Chapman
"Mom, am I good this way?" Fiona asked for the umpteenth time, twirling in front of the mirror.
"You look gorgeous, darling. My son will be absolutely smitten," I replied with a warm smile.
Fiona beamed, smoothing her dress.
She was everything I'd ever wanted in a daughter-in-law—graceful, poised, and stunningly beautiful.
Ever since she met Bryan, she'd been infatuated, and I couldn't wait to see them together.
"Mom, is it time to leave yet?" she asked impatiently, turning back to the mirror to check her reflection.
"Yes, but Bryan's phone isn't connecting," I said, frowning as I dialed his number again. "I want to let him know we're on our way."
Fiona's brow furrowed. "Don't you know his house address?"
I sighed, putting the phone down. "I don't, but my private investigator does. I'll call him to get the details."
With that, I grabbed my bag and led the way to the car, Fiona following close behind.