She made her way back to her room. Walking into the stillness of the enclosed space.
Ravenna sat on the edge of her bed, the velvet gown still clinging to her like a memory she couldn't wash off. Her hands trembled in her lap, nails digging into her palms. The mask had slipped—at the party, in front of everyone—and Adrien had dragged her away like she was nothing more than a stain on his reputation.
I don't care, he'd said.
The words echoed like gunshots in her head.
She curled in on herself, knees to chest, as sobs clawed their way up her throat. Her mascara had long since smudged, black trails down her cheeks. The champagne haze had vanished, replaced with sharp, humiliating clarity.
No family. No friends. No escape.
Just a cage that wore the disguise of luxury.
And him—a man made of stone and fire, with eyes that watched and burned, but never softened.
Her tears soaked into the pillow as sleep finally dragged her under, heavy and dark.
---
She woke up groggy, the room dim in the gray morning light. Her body ached. Her throat was raw. And just as she sat up, the door creaked open with a snap of bitterness.
"Finally," hissed a voice like vinegar. "You think this is some kind of vacation?"
It was Elena, the housekeeper—late forties, sour face, the type of woman who could wrinkle linen with a stare.
Ravenna wiped at her face. "I—"
"You what? Slept in like a spoiled brat while others work around you?" Elena walked in, tossed a wrinkled pile of laundry onto the foot of the bed. "He may tolerate your presence, girl, but the rest of us don't."
"I didn't mean to—"
"You never mean to. That's your problem. Now get downstairs. The guest dining room needs setting, the second parlor needs dusting, and you've got two hours before breakfast is served to the real people of this house."
Ravenna opened her mouth but the slap of bedsheets being yanked from under her silenced her.
"You're not special," Elena sneered, glaring down. "You think the boss looks at you and sees anything more than a complication? He'll grow tired of you soon. They always do."
Ravenna's hands balled into fists.
"Now move."
She forced herself up, biting back the sting in her chest. She dressed quickly, swallowed down the humiliation with a broken breath, and made her way to the hallway.
That's when the sound of heels echoed through the marble foyer.
She froze.
A suitcase wheeled behind a tall, striking icy blonde with crimson lips, oversized sunglasses, and a perfume trail that screamed luxury. A sleek red trench coat hugged her figure, and despite the early hour, her energy exuded dominance.
Selene.
Adrien's longtime friend. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Always dangerous.
The woman paused, lowering her sunglasses as her eyes locked with Ravenna's. And smiled—like a blade being drawn from silk.
"Oh," Selene purred. "You're still here?"
Ravenna said nothing.
"I assumed you'd have been... dismissed by now." She leaned in, gaze cold and predatory. "But I suppose Adrien's in a generous mood these days."
Ravenna didn't like the tone in Selene's voice, though she never really befriended ladies like Selene, she didnt particularly hate them, but if there's on thing she knew, it would be that things were about to get complicated. She clenched her jaw and said "I have work to do."
Selene tsked. "Don't worry, darling. I'll find something appropriate for you."
She brushed past, deliberately knocking shoulders.
Ravenna stood there, heart pounding, fury and hurt crashing against each other like thunderheads. Adrien didnt say anything about having a woman over, but there weren't that close…what was she expecting
But now the house felt colder.
More dangerous.
And she was standing at the center of the storm.