Delfina tried to move on the bed, her body still aching, but she finally managed to step down with a wince escaping her mouth.
She wore bandages like cloth, her steps light on the ground as she moved toward the door.
She turned the doorknob, only to find out it was locked.
She hissed under her breath, as if the door was magically going to open.
"Someone, please open the door," she whispered, but her voice was barely audible enough for anyone on the other side to hear her. Even if they did, they wouldn't come over.
Delfina wasn't surprised that the door didn't open.
It had been a week since Navira and Filippo revealed their true colors to her, a week since she'd been locked up in the house.
With every single day that passed by, she always tried to open that door and escape.
She hadn't seen Filippo since what was supposed to be their wedding day, and the only person who was allowed in was a servant who brought her food to make sure she ate and stayed alive just so she could endure more of their torture.
Delfina bit her lips, her heart racing in her chest.
She gasped for air as if she'd been holding it the entire time. The four corners of the guest room were the only things she was allowed to see. Her chest clenched while her nostrils flared as she tried to breathe. She felt suffocated as she needed an escape, but there was no one…
All of a sudden, the door opened, and the last person she needed to see appeared before her.
"What are you doing standing, sister?" Navira questioned, fake concern dripping from her tone like honey. She grinned as she sized Delfina up. "You still look terrible. Don't you know you're supposed to be resting?"
Delfina turned her back, not interested in sharing a word with Navira.
"I can take you outside if you want," Navira suggested, her grin stretching further when she saw Delfina halt. "I know you must be cooped up in here. Come on, I'll take you out of here. I'm sure you miss being outside."
Delfina wasn't sure if she could trust Navira. Indeed, she felt cooped up, but something told her that Navira wasn't up to any good.
However, what worse could she do?
Delfina followed Navira to the living room, where Navira took a seat on the comfortable couch, her long legs stretching toward the coffee table.
Delfina ignored it and intended to take a seat, but Navira stopped her.
"Get me a glass of mango juice, will you?" Navira instructed.
Delfina glanced around but didn't see any servants.
Confusion settled on her face.
"Are you deaf?" Navira questioned, her tone harsh. "Get me a glass of mango juice."
Delfina didn't resist cocking her eyebrow in deeper confusion.
"You brought me here just so I can bring a glass of juice for you?"
Navira smiled sweetly. "No, I brought you here so you can be my personal servant," she responded. She tilted her face to the side, her hazel eyes darkening. "Don't tell me you think you're here to enjoy yourself. I'm only showing the little things you're going to do by the time Filippo and I get married. After all, I'm the only one who can decide your fate."
Goosebumps rose on Delfina's skin, her blood boiling while her nails dug into the couch.
Her lips twitched, her eyes glaring at Navira without faltering.
"Don't make me call Filippo. You know what's going to happen." She glanced at Delfina's bandaged body. "Your wounds haven't healed yet. I'm sure you wouldn't want to get more."
Delfina's jaws ticked as she stood up, limping toward the kitchen, where she didn't see any servants.
She guessed that Navira must have sent them off to their quarters so she would make her do everything.
Delfina opened the fridge and poured a glass of mango juice. Just when she was about to leave, she saw something lying on the counter.
It was a telephone.
Filippo had snatched her phone from her a week ago. She couldn't contact her parents and tell them what Navira and Filippo had done to her.
Now was her chance.
As soon as she made the call, she would tell them everything, and they would come for her.
Without thinking, she dialed their number, and the call connected instantly.
"Who's this?"
The voice was familiar. It was the voice of their head maid back at her parents' mansion.
"Lucy, it's me, Delfina. Please give the phone to my mother," she pleaded.
Lucy sensed the urgency in Delfina's voice and quickly called for her madam.
"Who's this?" Mrs. Delamonte questioned.
"Mother, it's me, Delfina." Delfina wiped the tears that pooled in her eyes. This wasn't the time to cry. She glanced around to make sure that Navira wasn't looking for her yet.
"And what do you want?" The tone was harsh, something that Delfina wasn't used to, but she ignored it.
"Mother, please, you need to come and save me. Filippo…" She narrated everything that happened on the night she returned home, only skipping the part where she saw her parents with Filippo and Navira at the hospital right before they left.
"Please tell Father what he's done. I want you to come and take me away from here. Please, Mum—"
"There's nothing I can do for you," the woman replied, her tone void and cold. "If I could take matters into my own hands, I would have you killed and have your body buried somewhere no one would be able to find you." Then the woman paused, checking her two-week-old manicure with a sigh. "It's high time we put you right where you deserve to be. We don't have any use for you anymore. Did you really think I would favor you more than I'll favor my very own child? You have such big dreams, Delfina." Then she paused again. "But don't worry, by the time they're done with you, you will be thrown out of the house into the streets where you belong." Then she hung up the call.