Selena stood near the tall mirror, her arms crossed as she watched Isabella pace the room.
"You're overthinking again," Selena saidlgently. "He's your husband, not your executioner."
Isabella let out a breathy laugh. "Sometimes it feels like the same thing and you and I know I'm no wife to that man""
Selena smiled, stepping closer. "Then you have to change that. You can't walk into his space like prey waiting to be devoured. You walk in like you own the room."
She adjusted Isabella's shoulders, lifting her chin slightly. "Head high. Shoulders back. Let him see confidence before he sees fear."
Isabella caught her reflection and frowned. "I look ridiculous."
"You look like a queen," Selena corrected. "And queens don't ask permission."
There was a quiet beat between them before Selena continued, softer now. "When you approach him, don't rush. Let silence work for you. Sometimes the pause is louder than words."
She walked to the edge of the bed and gestured. "Sit."
Isabella obeyed, still unsure.
"Now ...." Selena's tone turned teasing. "You think control means strength. But sometimes, it's in the softness. In the way you reach out first. The way your eyes say what your lips are too shy to....men love what they canrs control."
Isabella laughed again, nervous. "You make it sound so easy."
"It becomes easy when you stop seeing it as a battle." Selena leaned forward, her eyes warm. "Try to meet him halfway. Maybe a look, a touch, a kiss if you feel brave."
"A kiss?" Isabella raised a brow. "That's never going to happen."
Selena chuckled, shaking her head. "Then don't. But don't underestimate what a moment of closeness can do. It breaks walls, Isabella. Even his."
For a moment, the younger woman fell silent, tracing the embroidery on the sheets. "We don't see each other that way,he helped me save my father from Cassimo and in return I get to be his sex slave.....what if he pushes me away?"
"Then you stand your ground. You don't retreat,you let him feel what he's been avoiding." Selena took her hands. "Control isn't always about leading. Sometimes it's about knowing when not to flinch."
The candlelight flickered over them, the air charged but unspoken.
Isabella lifted her gaze, her voice quiet. "And if he lets me?"
Selena smiled faintly. "Then don't hold back. Show him that power can be gentle, too." Selena circled the bed slowly, her voice calm but steady. "Rafael's strength can swallow a room," she said. "If you let him, he'll command every heartbeat. But that doesn't mean you don't have a say in the rhythm."
Isabella's eyes followed her, unsure. "How can I, when I don't get a say in what happens in that room""
"Then you make him listen without words." Selena stopped in front of her, lifting a finger beneath Isabella's chin. "You find his pace, then lead him into yours."
She motioned toward the pillow. "Think of it as a dance. Two partners, not a battle for dominance. You don't lie there waiting....you move with him, meet him halfway."
Isabella gave a faint smile. "You make it sound like art."
"It is art," Selena replied. "Every glance, every breath, every pause between. You don't need to overpower him,you need to remind him that you exist in that moment too. That your presence matters as much as his."
Selena stepped closer, lowering her tone to a near whisper. "When he reaches for you, don't shrink back. Touch him back. Let him know you're there by choice, not surrender."
Isabella's eyes softened. "That's… terrifying."
"That's power," Selena corrected gently. "It's not about seducing him. It's about letting him feel your strength, your control. Pleasure is shared,it grows when you stop being afraid of wanting it too."
For a long while, Isabella said nothing. Her fingers played absently with the hem of her gown, her mind somewhere between fear and resolve.
Finally she murmured, "So I don't have to be the quiet one anymore?"
Selena's lips curved. "You never were. You just didn't know how to speak his language."
She took a step back, gesturing for Isabella to rise again. "Now, stand. Walk like you own the moment. Slow, deliberate. Every movement tells him you know your worth."
Isabella stood, trying again,her steps more certain this time, her chin no longer trembling.
Selena smiled, pride softening her gaze. "Good. That's it. That's how you take control by remembering that the night isn't his alone. It's yours too."
Selena moved to the window, drawing the curtain halfway before turning back to Isabella. The late sunlight cut across the room, softening everything it touched.
"Sometimes," she began, her tone quieter now, "you wait for him to come to you. And sometimes.....you go to him first."
Isabella blinked, surprised. "You mean… I should start it?"
"Why not?" Selena asked simply. "Men like Rafael aren't used to being met halfway. They expect obedience, fear, silence. But when a woman dares to close that space between them.....she changes the rules."
Isabella frowned thoughtfully. "He doesn't seem the type to enjoy being surprised."
Selena laughed softly. "Then you surprise him in a way he can't refuse. Not with words. With presence. Sometimes it's as simple as standing close enough that he has to notice your heartbeat. Sometimes it's the way you look at him before he can look away."
She came closer, her voice like silk,her hand slowly caressing Isabella's face. "You don't always need to wait for permission. If you feel something....show it. A touch, a whisper, a move toward him. Let him know that you want the moment too. That's not weakness, Isabella,it's power."
Isabella hesitated, her pulse flickering in her throat. "I wouldn't even know how to start."
Selena tilted her head. "You start by wanting to. The rest will come naturally. Remember..men like Rafael crave control, but they love what they can't control.He'll never admit it, but what stirs him isn't obedience,it's fire and resilience."
The words hung in the quiet air.
Isabella's expression softened, a faint, uncertain smile curving her lips. "You make it sound like I can actually change something."
"You can," Selena said firmly. "You can shift the whole balance between you. Don't be afraid to reach out first, or to guide what happens after."
"I'll try my best"Isabella said going close to be bed.
Selena followed and reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Everything will be fine, you're stronger than you think".
"I'm happy you think that of me" Isabella said already covering herself with the duvet.
Selena smiled tucking her in. "And we're done for the night,good night señora" She said and left the room.
....
The clock on the far wall ticked past midnight. The house was quiet.....too quiet..... the kind of silence that made her skin fear the possible worse. Selena lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come.
She had spent the entire evening thinking of Isabella. The tiny spark of hope in her eyes....so fragile, but so alive.
It had been years since Selena had felt that kind of hope herself. Ever since her brother sold her to El Diablo to clear his debts, she finally realised that there was no reason to try to live or make a change but after seeing Isabella, she knew she was there for a reason. To her, Isabella was her faint glint of hope in finally leaving her.
A knock came at the door.... sharp, measured, unhurried. She didn't need to ask who it was. Her pulse stuttered once before she whispered, "Come in."
Caleb stepped inside, his expression unreadable, his jacket half undone, the smell of smoke and bourbon following him like a shadow. He didn't greet her. He never did.
He just stood there, watching her, as if weighing what she was worth tonight.
"You're awake," he said finally, his tone almost mocking.
"I don't sleep much," she murmured, eyes fixed on the floor.
He gave a short laugh, the kind that wasn't meant to be kind. "Still playing the saint, Selena? Helping our sweet little Isabella find herself?" His voice curled around the name, cruel and knowing. "You act like you're something better."
Her throat tightened. "She needs guidance. Someone has to....."
"Someone has to what?" he cut in, stepping closer. His voice dropped, darker now. "Teach her how to survive El Diablo? You can't even survive me."
The words hit like glass. Selena flinched, but she didn't answer. She'd learned long ago that silence hurt less than truth.
Caleb's gaze lingered on her face.... searching, dissecting, maybe even daring her to defy him. When she didn't, he let out a low exhale that might've been frustration or satisfaction.
"Don't look at me like that," he muttered. "You knew what this was the day you were brought into this mansion. We all belong to the same chain. Some of us just pretend the cuffs are prettier."
She wanted to scream. To tell him that if she had no choice to make.But the words stayed behind her teeth.
"Stand up" Caleb commanded her and slowly she stood no questions asked. He shove her swiftly to the wall and roughly pulls down her skirt. All Selena could do was just grit her teeth as her face and chest landed on the wall.
"Yeah that's right, this is what you get for staying here" He said as he moved roughly in and out of her.
Selena groaned in pain, her palm on the wall like she was trying to push her way out. Caleb disgusted her, she could never dream of doing what she taught Isabella with Caleb.
How did this even start?
How did she get to this point of getting used by an animal like him?
Tears filled her eyes as she tried to muffle her groans. If only she hadn't mistakenly entered his room the day he was having sex with one of the other maids. If only she hadn't decided to take in his washed linens that day,she wouldn't have been here.....in this moment.....like this.
He finally finished and shoved her back to the bed,using his left hand to wipe the snort from his nose.
"You taste good each time" He said as he staggered to the door.
When he finally left, the door clicked shut with that quiet finality she hated. Selena sat there for a long time, staring at the empty space he'd left behind. Her breath came shallow, uneven. Her palms were damp, her chest tight with unshed tears.
"You can't even survive me." The words replayed, cruel and echoing.
She pressed her forehead against her knees, shaking, the tears finally slipping free. Everything she had taught Isabella that day.....confidence, control, the art of reclaiming power felt like a lie. A performance she could never live herself.
Outside, the wind rustled through the peonies in the garden, the same flowers she had warned Isabella not to touch.
Their petals would open at dawn.....pure, untouched, unknowing of the world's cruelty.
Selena closed her eyes and whispered into the darkness,
"Maybe she'll find a way out of this. Maybe one of us will."
And then she lay back, silent, her face turned toward the window waiting for sunlight to possibly wash her pains and disgust out of her body.