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The air in Mrs. Collins's room was thick with a silence that felt heavy and suffocating. The large, white-paneled door closed behind Alexander with a soft click, a final and decisive sound. Jane was left alone, her body still trembling, her heart still a frantic drumbeat against her ribs. The sudden, shocking kiss had left her breathless, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and terror. She reached up and touched her lips, a phantom pressure still lingering there. It was a kiss of possession, a public display of ownership, and yet, there was something else in it, a brief, fleeting moment of something she couldn't name. He had saved her, in a way, from the terror of the dog, but he had done it in a way that was more terrifying still. She was no longer just his prisoner; she was now his fiancée, a lie so grand it felt like an abyss she would never climb out of.
She slid off the bed, her legs feeling weak and unstable, and sank to the plush carpeted floor, burying her face in her hands. The tears she had been holding back for too long finally came, a hot, silent torrent of misery and confusion. This was all too much. The luxurious room, the kindness of Mrs. Collins, the terrifying cruelty of Alexander, the unexpected kiss—it was a rollercoaster of emotions that was threatening to tear her apart.
A soft knock came at the door, and Jane quickly wiped her tears away, composing her face into a mask of polite indifference. "Come in," she said, her voice a little shaky.
Mrs. Collins entered, a tray in her hands. On it was a tall glass of frothy milk and a small plate of sliced, vibrant fruit. Her face was filled with a warm, genuine concern that made Jane's heart ache.
"Oh, my dear," Mrs. Collins said, her voice a soft, melodic whisper. "I'm so sorry about that dog. I had no idea Luna would do that. He's usually so well-behaved." She placed the tray on a small table and sat down beside Jane, her hand gently rubbing her back. "Drink this. It will calm your nerves."
Jane took a sip of the milk, its coolness a soothing balm on her raw throat. She looked at Mrs. Collins, a genuine smile on her face. This woman was so kind, so full of warmth, and it was all a lie. She was playing a part, and the thought was a bitter tang in her mouth.
"Mom, don't worry," Jane said, her voice still a little shaky. "I'm perfectly fine now."
Mrs. Collins's smile was one of pure relief. "Oh, that's good. That's very, very good. You know, Luna is more than just a pet. He's… he's Alexander's friend." She paused, a nostalgic, faraway look in her eyes. "There was a time, a few years ago, when Alexander was traveling abroad for business. He was in a remote part of the country, and his car was ambushed. They tried to rob him. They shot at his car, you know."
Jane's eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat. She had only ever seen Alexander as a powerful, untouchable figure, a man who controlled his world with an iron fist. The thought of him being vulnerable, being shot at, was a foreign, terrifying concept.
"Luna was with him," Mrs. Collins continued, her voice a little choked with emotion. "He was just a puppy then, but he sensed the danger. He started barking and snarling and growling so fiercely that the men and before the men could not do anything, and when then he called his executive protection team.He saved Alexander's life. He took a bullet, too, but he recovered. He's very, very precious to my son. He's his shadow, his protector. That's why Alexander keeps him away from visitors; he doesn't want anyone to see how attached he is to him."
Jane's mind reeled. The terrifying beast that had been chasing her was not just a dog. He was a hero, a loyal, precious friend who had saved Alexander's life. The story complicated everything. It added a new, surprising layer to the cold, ruthless man she knew.
"Don't worry, dear," Mrs. Collins said, her voice snapping Jane out of her thoughts. "I'll make sure he doesn't come out of his cage again. Not while you're here."
She stood up, her face a mask of determination. "Now, enough of this moping around. You need to get your mind off of this. You and I are going shopping."
Jane was surprised. "Shopping?" she asked.
"Yes, shopping!" Mrs. Collins exclaimed, her face lighting up with a youthful energy that was both surprising and infectious. "The party is in two days, and you need a dress that will make every other woman in the room green with envy. I have the perfect store in mind. We'll get our nails done, our hair, we'll have a girl's day. I haven't had one in so long!" She said it with such a vibrant enthusiasm, acting as if she were just 20, that Jane couldn't help but smile.
"Okay," Jane said, the word a small, hesitant whisper. "That will be… fun."
Mrs. Collins clapped her hands together, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. "Wonderful! Now, let's get ready. I'll just go get my purse." She left the room, her footsteps light and quick.
Jane was left alone once more, her mind a frantic mix of emotions. A girl's day out. A shopping trip. It was all a part of the charade, a necessary evil, but a small part of her, a part that she had long buried beneath layers of fear and pain, felt a flicker of something that resembled excitement. Maybe, just maybe, this was her chance. Her chance to talk to Mrs. Collins, to somehow, subtly, find a way to escape.
She was about to leave the room when Alexander walked in, a small, black velvet box in his hands. He looked at her, his face a neutral mask, his eyes unreadable. "This is for you," he said, his voice low and even. "It's a necklace. You will wear it at the party. It's a family heirloom. It's what my father gave my mother when he asked her to marry him."
Jane's heart leaped into her throat. An heirloom. A family heirloom. The lie was getting bigger, more complicated, more terrifying. He opened the box, and a stunning diamond necklace, a masterpiece of glittering stones, lay on the velvet.
"This… this is too much," Jane stammered, her voice shaking. "I can't wear this."
"You will," he said, his voice a command. "It's part of the act. You are my fiancée, remember?" He closed the box and placed it on the dresser. "My mother will be here in a few minutes. We're going shopping."
Jane looked at him in surprise. "You… you're coming with us?" she asked, a note of fear in her voice.
"Yes," he said, his eyes hard. "I'm not a fool, Jane. You think I'm going to let you out of my sight?" He took a step towards her, and she flinched, instinctively taking a step back. "Don't try anything stupid. Not when my mother is around. Now, go get ready. She's waiting."
The words were a cold, hard reminder of her place. She was his prisoner, his prop, and he was not going to let her forget it.
When Mrs. Collins came back to the room, a large designer purse on her shoulder, she was surprised to see Alexander. "Oh, honey, you're coming with us?" she asked, a wide smile on her face.
"Yes, Mother," he said, his voice a low growl. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
The car they were about to enter was a vision of opulence and engineering—a pristine white Rolls-Royce Phantom, its massive grille gleaming in the afternoon sun. The car was a silent, powerful statement of wealth and a perfect symbol of the world Jane was now a part of. Just as they were about to enter the car, Alexander stopped them.
"Mom, please," he said, his voice low and serious. "You must go with some guards."
Mrs. Collins laughed, a light, melodious sound that was a stark contrast to his serious tone. "Oh, this my son. You're so possessive!" she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm just going shopping, dear. I'll be fine."
"No," he said, his voice firm. "You will take the guards."
Mrs. Collins sighed, a theatrical sound of mock annoyance. "But darling, I'm with Jane! She'll protect me!"
Jane's heart leaped into her throat. She had to smile, to laugh along, to act like a sweet, adoring girlfriend, but her mind was a whirlwind of fear and disbelief.
Mrs. Collins saw the look on Alexander's face, the hard, unyielding set of his jaw. She knew her son. When he set his mind to something, there was no stopping him.
"Alright, alright," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "If that's what you want, it's fine. For the sake of your beautiful girlfriend, I don't want anything happening to her. I can't afford to offend you." She winked at Alexander, a conspiratorial, knowing look that made his jaw tighten even more.
The wink was a clear sign. She knew. She knew this was all a game, a charade, but she was playing along. She was an accomplice, a willing participant in the biggest lie of their lives.
The car ride was a long, luxurious journey through the city's most affluent streets. The guards, a silent, imposing presence, followed in a black SUV, their eyes constantly scanning the road. Mrs. Collins was in her element, pointing out the beautiful buildings and the expensive boutiques.
"Oh, that's where we're going!" she exclaimed, pointing to a massive, glittering building that looked more like a palace than a store. "It's my favorite. They have the most beautiful dresses. And the most delicious coffee, too."
Jane just smiled and nodded, her mind a million miles away. She was in a world of wealth and opulence, a world she had only ever read about, but she felt more like a prisoner than a princess. The beautiful clothes, the expensive cars, the charming smile of Mrs. Collins—it was all a facade, a thin veil over a dark, terrifying reality.
They spent the entire afternoon shopping. Mrs. Collins was a whirlwind of energy, pulling Jane from one boutique to the next, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Jane, however, was a silent, beautiful doll, a mannequin for Mrs. Collins to dress up.
She tried on a stunning crimson gown, a masterpiece of silk and lace that hugged her curves in all the right places. "Oh, my dear, you are absolutely breathtaking in this!" Mrs. Collins exclaimed, her eyes shining with pride. "This is the one. This is what you will wear to the party."
Jane looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The woman staring back at her was beautiful, glamorous, and utterly unrecognizable. The dimples on her cheeks, which had once been a source of genuine joy, now felt like a painted-on lie. The dress, the most beautiful thing she had ever worn, felt like a cage.
They bought a dozen other dresses, all beautiful, all expensive, all a part of the charade. They had a late lunch in a beautiful, elegant restaurant, where Mrs. Collins kept feeding Jane, telling her she was too skinny and needed to gain some weight.
"You have to look your best for the party, my dear," Mrs. Collins said, a knowing look in her eyes. "My son has a reputation to uphold, you know."
Jane's heart sank. A reputation. That's all this was. A charade for the sake of a powerful man's reputation.
The ride back to the mansion was just as quiet as the ride to the city. Mrs. Collins was tired, her head resting on the soft leather of the Rolls-Royce. Jane was just as exhausted, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
When they got back to the mansion, Mrs. Collins went straight to her room to rest. Alexander was waiting for them, his face a neutral mask of indifference. He looked at Jane, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe, a possessive, unreadable look on his face.
"Did you have fun?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
Jane's heart leaped into her throat. She had to answer carefully. She had to play her part. "Yes," she said, her voice a small, hesitant whisper. "Mrs. Collins was very kind to me."
He nodded, a silent acknowledgment. He walked over to her, his movements fluid and powerful, and took her hand. "Come," he said, his voice a low command. "You need to get ready for dinner."
As he led her away, his hand on her back, his body a warm, protective presence, Jane felt a fresh wave of fear and confusion. He was a monster, a cruel, cold, ruthless man who held her family's fate in his hands. But he was also the man who had cleaned her wounds, who had given her a necklace, who had saved her from a dog, who had let her sleep on the couch, who had a mother who loved him, and a dog who had saved his life. He was a paradox, a walking contradiction, and she was a puppet in his world, a world she didn't know how to navigate. She was a beautiful, elegant prop in a drama she hadn't asked to be a part of, and she was terrified of what would happen next.