Catherine woke with a start, the sound of birds chirping outside cutting through the haze of confusion that clung to her mind. She squinted against the harsh morning light filtering through the thick curtains. Her head throbbed, a dull, persistent ache that mirrored the emptiness in her chest. For a moment, she thought she might still be dreaming. The events of the previous night—the betrayal, the kiss, the media frenzy—were all too surreal, too raw, and too close to the surface.
She ran a hand through her tangled hair, trying to steady herself. The world felt like it was spinning, and as she sat up, the disorientation only grew stronger. Her limbs felt heavy, as though she had been through something far more exhausting than just a night of broken dreams.
The room around her was foreign. The bed was large, luxurious, and the decor was nothing like anything she had ever seen. Rich, deep colors and elegant furniture filled the room, making her feel out of place. She glanced around, taking in the opulence, the polished wood floors, the gleaming chandelier hanging above her head. She had never belonged to a world like this.
Her pulse quickened as the memories from the previous night slowly started to piece together. She remembered the car, the man who had rescued her from the men on the street, and then... Lucius.
Lucius Ravenswood.
The name echoed in her mind. She had heard of him—of his family, their power, their wealth. But she hadn't expected to end up in his mansion, in his world, surrounded by luxury she hadn't earned and people she didn't know. What was he doing here? Why had he brought her here?
Before she could sink further into her thoughts, the door opened, and a soft knock interrupted her musings. A woman entered, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea. Her presence was calm and steady, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions Catherine had been battling since last night.
"Good morning," the woman said with a warm smile, setting the tray down beside Catherine. "I've brought you some tea to help with your headache."
Catherine looked up at her, trying to form words but finding her throat dry, her mind still a mess. The woman—Windy, she had introduced herself as—was kind and attentive, a stark contrast to the harshness of everything Catherine had just experienced.
"Where am I?" Catherine's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
"You're in Mr. Ravenswood's mansion," Windy answered gently. "He brought you here last night after everything that happened. You were in a bad state. He didn't want to leave you alone."
Catherine's breath hitched at the mention of Lucius's name. She wasn't sure how to feel about him, but the fact that he had taken her in, saved her from the men on the street, made him stand out in her mind. Still, there was a nagging doubt, an uncertainty that she couldn't shake. What did he want from her? Why had he chosen to help her?
As if reading her mind, Windy continued, "Mr. Ravenswood insisted you be brought here, to rest. He's been very kind to you."
Catherine nodded slowly, her mind still clouded. She didn't trust Lucius, not yet, but she had no choice but to be here. She couldn't go back to the life she had known, not after last night. She felt lost, adrift in a world that no longer made sense.
"I don't remember much," Catherine murmured, her fingers brushing the edge of the cup. "How did I end up here?"
"You were in danger," Windy explained softly. "Mr. Ravenswood found you and made sure you were taken care of. He didn't want to risk leaving you out there alone."
Catherine stared at the tea in front of her, trying to process everything. She had been rescued, yes, but by whom? And why? What did Lucius want from her? Was he just helping because it was the right thing to do, or was there more to it?
Just as she was about to ask more questions, the door opened again. This time, Lucius stepped inside, his tall figure filling the doorway. His presence was imposing, his gaze unwavering as he looked at her. Catherine's heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she was frozen. There was something about him—something that made her feel small, yet oddly safe at the same time.
"How are you feeling?" Lucius's voice was smooth, calm, but there was an underlying tension in the air. It was clear he was waiting for her response, but it wasn't just concern that he was showing. He was studying her, as though trying to figure her out.
Catherine opened her mouth to speak, but the words got caught in her throat. She couldn't decide how she felt. She was confused, angry, lost, and a little scared. How was she supposed to respond to a man she barely knew, a man who had saved her and yet held all the power in this situation?
"I'm... fine," she said finally, her voice trembling slightly. "But why am I here? What do you want from me?"
Lucius's gaze softened, but only for a moment. His expression was unreadable, his emotions carefully masked behind that cold exterior. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers.
"You're here because I chose to help you," he said simply, as if that was enough. "You were in danger, and I didn't want to leave you out there."
Catherine's pulse quickened. She didn't know whether she should feel grateful or suspicious. Why had he helped her? Was it just out of some sense of duty, or was there something more to it?
"But why me?" she pressed, her voice steadier this time. "Why did you bring me here? You don't even know me."
Lucius tilted his head slightly, as if considering her question. "I don't need to know you to help. But your stepfather owes me a significant amount of money," he said, his tone still calm, but there was a hardness in his words now. "He made an agreement with me. And part of that agreement was that you would be taken care of."
Catherine's heart stopped for a moment. "My stepfather... sold me to you?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
Lucius's expression didn't change. "Not exactly," he said. "But he did agree to let me take responsibility for you in exchange for clearing his debt."
Catherine felt the blood drain from her face. She wasn't sure if she was more shocked or disgusted. Her own stepfather had made a deal with Lucius, exchanging her like some kind of commodity.
The room seemed to spin as she processed the words. "You think I'm just a pawn in some business deal?" she asked, her voice shaking with anger and disbelief.
Lucius's eyes remained steady, cold even. "I'm offering you a choice," he said softly. "You can stay here, in safety, away from everything you were running from. Or you can leave, and I'll make sure your stepfather pays the price for breaking his agreement."
Catherine stared at him, her thoughts racing. She didn't know what to think. She had no choice but to stay, but she couldn't bring herself to accept the terms of this arrangement. How had she ended up in this twisted situation? She had never asked for this.
Lucius continued, his voice low, almost soothing. "The decision is yours, Catherine. But know this: there are consequences for every choice you make."
Catherine felt a sense of finality settle over her. She wasn't in control of her own life anymore. She wasn't in control of anything.
But she had no choice.
"Three days," Lucius added, his voice hardening slightly. "Take your time. But after that, things will change. And you won't have the luxury of making decisions anymore."
With that, Lucius turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Catherine was left alone, the weight of his words pressing down on her.
Three days. That was all she had.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to gather her thoughts. She didn't know what to do. But one thing was clear—her life had just changed forever.
***