The days after I overheard Kendrick and Elise's conversation were the hardest I had ever faced.
I had to pretend. Smile when he looked at me. Obey when he ordered. Submit when he touched me.
Every instinct in me screamed to run, to fight, to claw my way out of this mansion, but I knew I couldn't rush it. One wrong move and I'd be trapped forever,or worse.
Kendrick thought he had broken me. I could see it in the way his lips curved with satisfaction whenever I lowered my head, in the heat of his gaze when I didn't flinch at his touch.
I was becoming exactly what he wanted.
Or so he thought.
Every soft "yes, sir," every lingering touch, every obedient glance was a brick I laid in the foundation of my plan.
Because the truth was, I was more alive than ever.
I was waiting.
The nights were the hardest.
Kendrick would come to me, his presence overwhelming the room, his voice soft and commanding. He wanted more than obedience. He wanted devotion, worship.
And I gave him just enough.
I let him kiss me, let his hands roam my body. I let him believe he owned me entirely.
But inside, I was somewhere else.
Plotting. Watching. Waiting.
Each kiss he pressed to my skin was another reason to escape. Each whispered promise of "forever" was a chain I planned to shatter.
One evening, as Kendrick lounged on the chaise in my room, a glass of whiskey in his hand, he studied me with lazy amusement.
"Come here, sweetheart," he drawled.
I obeyed, moving to stand between his legs. My heart pounded as he pulled me down onto his lap, his arms caging me.
His hand slid along my thigh, possessive, greedy.
"You're learning," he murmured, his lips grazing my ear. "I knew you'd come around."
I shivered, forcing myself to lean into him.
"I just want to make you happy," I whispered.
He chuckled, the sound dark and pleased. "You will."
His mouth found mine, the kiss brutal, claiming. I kissed him back, my nails digging into my palms to keep from recoiling.
Later that night, as Kendrick slept beside me, I stared at the ceiling.
I had noticed things over the past few days.
The guards outside my room changed at midnight, with a small window of five minutes where the hallway was unguarded.
There was a servant's exit on the lower level, hidden behind the wine cellar.
Kendrick had a safe in his office,I had seen him punch in the code once, four swift taps of his fingers: 0718.
And Nurse Elise
She was the key.
If I could convince her I was still broken, still desperate, she might let something slip. She might help without realizing it.
But I had to be careful. Elise was just as dangerous as Kendrick now.
The next morning, Elise came to my room with my breakfast tray.
"Good morning, Miss," she said, smiling warmly.
I forced a small, shy smile. "Good morning."
She set the tray down and perched on the edge of the bed.
"You're doing so well," she said, reaching to brush my hair back from my face. "Mr. Kendrick is very pleased with you."
My stomach turned, but I nodded.
"I just want to make him happy," I murmured.
Elise's eyes gleamed with approval. "That's the right attitude. You'll see. Things will be easier for you now."
"Maybe one day," I said softly, "he'll let me… go outside?"
Elise laughed, a light, dismissive sound. "Perhaps. If you continue to behave."
I dropped my gaze, pretending to be bashful.
"I'll do anything he asks," I whispered.
"Good girl."
She patted my hand, completely fooled.
That night, Kendrick was rougher than usual.
He wanted to celebrate, he said.
Celebrate how "perfect" I had become.
His hands left fresh bruises on my hips. His mouth marked my skin like a brand.
"You're mine," he growled against my throat, thrusting into me with punishing force. "Say it."
"I'm yours," I gasped, tears burning my eyes.
He smiled, victorious, and spilled inside me.
I lay there afterward, trembling, staring at the dark ceiling.
Another night survived. Another night closer to freedom.
Days passed. I kept up the act.
Sweet. Obedient. Docile.
Inside, I was steel.
And finally, I saw my opening.
It was a stormy night when it happened.
Thunder rattled the windows. Rain lashed the glass in heavy sheets.
I was in Kendrick's office, summoned under the pretense of "spending time together."
He was drunk, the whiskey heavy in the air between us.
His guard was down.
He was leaning back in his chair, his eyes half-lidded with satisfaction, when he mumbled, "Elise… tell her… tomorrow… ready…"
He didn't finish.
I watched him carefully until his breathing evened out.
He was asleep.
Carefully, silently, I slipped off his lap and padded to the door.
The hallway was empty.
Heart pounding, I crept down the corridor, every creak of the old wooden floorboards a gunshot in the silence.
I found Elise at the end of the hall, speaking in hushed tones to a man I recognized,one of Kendrick's enforcers.
I pressed myself into the shadows, straining to hear.
"Tomorrow," Elise whispered. "We'll sedate her. Tell her it's for her health. Then we'll transport her to the safe house."
"And after that?" the man asked.
"She'll be… reconditioned," Elise said with a cruel smile. "Until she forgets she ever wanted to leave."
My stomach twisted.
They weren't just going to keep me prisoner.
They were going to destroy me.
I stumbled back, my breath hitching in my throat.
I couldn't wait any longer.
Tomorrow was too late.
Tonight. It had to be tonight.
If I didn't escape tonight, I never would.
I turned and fled back toward my room, my mind racing, my heart thundering.
No mistakes. No second chances.
Tonight, I would run.
Tonight, I would fight.
Even if it killed me.
I would rather die free than live caged in silk...