Chapter Three

I woke up to the sound of keys rattling outside the door. My heart jumped as I sat up, the thin blanket falling off my shoulders. The lock clicked, and the door creaked open.

A woman stepped inside. She looked to be in her early forties, dressed in a simple black uniform with a white apron tied neatly around her waist. She carried a silver tray in her hands. On one side of the tray was a plate of food—toast, eggs, and a small glass of orange juice. On the other side was a neatly folded dress, a soft cream color that looked far too expensive for someone like me.

“You must be hungry,” the maid said gently, setting the tray on the small table near the bed. Her voice was soft, kind, but there was a flicker of pity in her eyes that made me feel even smaller than I already did.

I nodded, my throat dry. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

She straightened and gestured to the dress. “Mr. Rodriguez asked me to bring this. You’ll need to change before you see him.”

My stomach twisted at the mention of Theo. “See him?” I asked hesitantly.

The maid gave me a small nod, her expression unreadable. “He’ll send for you soon. You should eat and get ready.”

I glanced at the food, but my appetite was nowhere to be found. My hands trembled as I picked up the dress. The fabric was soft and lightweight, but it felt like it weighed a ton in my hands.

“I… I didn’t bring anything with me,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

The maid offered a small smile. “That’s why I brought it. Don’t worry, miss. You’ll have everything you need here.”

Everything I need? The words felt hollow. Nothing about this situation felt right or comfortable, no matter how nice the dress or food was.

The maid paused at the door, her hand resting on the doorknob. She glanced back at me, her expression soft but distant.

“My name is Bell,” she said quietly.

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came. She gave me a small nod and turned, stepping out of the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and I heard the unmistakable sound of the lock turning.

I stared at the closed door, the weight of the situation pressing down on me again. Bell hadn’t said anything else, and her silence left me feeling more alone than ever.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to the tray of food. My stomach growled faintly, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. I picked at the toast and sipped the orange juice, forcing myself to eat something even though I wasn’t hungry.

Once I’d finished what I could, I stood and walked to the small bathroom attached to the room. The sink and mirror were plain, but everything was spotless. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wake myself up fully and calm the nerves that were twisting my stomach into knots.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess, and my eyes were puffy from crying. I ran my fingers through my hair, doing my best to smooth it down, and washed my face again.

The dress hung on the edge of the bed, waiting for me. It felt like putting it on would make everything real, but I couldn’t delay any longer. With shaky hands, I slipped into the dress, adjusting it until it fit snugly.

I stood in front of the mirror once more, staring at the girl reflected back at me. She looked different—clean, polished, yet still scared. No amount of water or a new dress could wash away the fear in my eyes.

I sat on the edge of the bed, nervously twisting my fingers as the minutes ticked by. The soft cream dress fit perfectly, its fabric hugging me in a way that felt both delicate and suffocating. My stomach churned, and I couldn’t tell if it was the food or the anticipation of what was coming.

A soft knock broke the silence, followed by the sound of the lock turning. The door opened, and Bell stepped inside once again. Her expression was calm, but her eyes betrayed a hint of unease.

“Mr. Rodriguez is ready to see you,” she said, her voice quiet.

My chest tightened. I stood, smoothing down the dress with trembling hands. “Where is he?” I asked, though my voice came out shakier than I intended.

Bell motioned for me to follow her. “He’s waiting downstairs,” she said, turning toward the door.

I hesitated for a moment, staring at the open doorway. This was it—the moment I’d been dreading since last night. I took a deep breath, forcing my feet to move.

As I followed Bell down the narrow hallway, the air felt heavy, the silence between us thick. My heart pounded louder with each step. The grand staircase we descended was lined with polished wood, and the walls were decorated with abstract paintings that seemed out of place in the cold, foreboding atmosphere of the house.

Bell stopped in front of a large, dark wooden door at the end of the hallway. She turned to me, her expression unreadable.

“Do you have any advice?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Bell’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer. Her eyes flickered to the door, then back to me, as if debating whether to say anything. Finally, she leaned in slightly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“He can be…” She paused, searching for the right word. “Intense. Don’t provoke him. Speak when spoken to, and be careful with your words.” Her eyes softened, but there was a shadow behind them. “He doesn’t like to be challenged.”

Her words sent a cold chill through me, confirming the fear that had been gnawing at me since I first heard Theo’s name. I nodded stiffly, unsure if I could even manage to breathe steadily, let alone avoid provoking someone like him.

Bell hesitated, her hand still on the door handle. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but then thought better of it and shook her head. “Just… stay calm,” she said, almost to herself. With that, she pushed the door open.

The room beyond was enormous, the air thick with authority and power. A long, elegant table stretched down the middle, though it was empty save for a single glass of amber liquid near the far end. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in a wash of sunlight, but it did little to warm the cold, calculated feel of the space.

And there he was.

Theo Rodriguez stood near the windows, his back to us. The sharp cut of his tailored suit emphasized his broad shoulders and tall, imposing frame. Even with his face hidden, the sheer presence of him was overwhelming. He turned slightly at the sound of the door, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that rooted me to the spot.

“Leave us, Bell,” Theo said, his voice smooth but commanding.

“Yes, sir.” Bell didn’t look at me as she quickly retreated, closing the door softly behind her. The sound of the lock clicking echoed in the silence, and I realized I was alone with him. My heart raced, the sound loud in my ears as Theo studied me.

Theo’s gaze raked over me, slow and deliberate, his expression unreadable at first. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched, forming a faint smirk that made my skin crawl.

“Didn’t anyone tell you to clean yourself up properly before meeting me?” he asked, his voice dripping with mockery. His dark eyes lingered on my face, and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. “Or is this your best effort?”

I swallowed hard, my hands clenching the fabric of the dress at my sides. “I—I did what I could,” I stammered, my voice trembling under the weight of his scrutiny.

He let out a soft, humorless chuckle, shaking his head as if he found the whole situation amusing. “Your hair is still a mess, and those puffy eyes…” He tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Crying all night, were you? Afraid of me already?”

I flinched at his words but said nothing. What could I say? He wasn’t wrong.

Theo stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking softly against the hardwood floor, the sound making my heart race even faster. He stopped a few feet away, his towering frame casting a shadow over me. I forced myself to stand still, even as every fiber of my being screamed at me to back away.

“Silence,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “is a wise choice. Let’s hope it’s not the only thing you’re good at.”

My cheeks burned with humiliation, but I bit my lip to keep from saying anything. Bell’s warning echoed in my mind: Don’t provoke him. Be careful with your words.

Theo studied me for a long moment, his dark eyes narrowing as if he were trying to see through me, to pull apart the layers of fear and confusion I was trying so hard to keep in check. Then he turned away abruptly, walking toward the table near the windows. He picked up the glass of amber liquid and swirled it lazily, his back to me.

Theo took a slow sip from his glass before setting it down with deliberate precision. His back was still to me, but his voice carried effortlessly across the room, cold and authoritative.

“I called you here,” he began, his tone sharp yet calm, “to establish the rules. Rules you will follow if you want to survive.” He turned then, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my knees feel weak. “Because, make no mistake, your survival depends entirely on me.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as sandpaper. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, each beat louder than the last.

He walked back toward me, his steps unhurried, the predatory air around him undeniable. “Rule one,” he said, his voice low but firm.

“Rule one,” Theo said, his voice unwavering, each word deliberate. “When I send for you, you will ensure you look… presentable. No tattered hair. No puffy eyes. And certainly not as though you’ve just crawled out of a hole.” His gaze flicked over me, the disdain in his eyes making my skin prickle. “A little touch of makeup would do wonders. I don’t expect perfection, but I demand effort. Understood?”

I nodded stiffly, my cheeks burning with humiliation. “Y-Yes,” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Good,” he said curtly, as though my agreement was the only logical outcome. “Rule two,” he continued, circling me like a predator assessing prey, “you will speak only when spoken to. I have no interest in your unsolicited opinions or thoughts. When I require something from you, I will make it clear.”

I clenched my hands tightly, my nails digging into my palms as I fought the urge to say anything that might provoke him. Bell’s warning replayed in my mind like a mantra: Don’t provoke him. Be careful with your words.

Theo stopped in front of me, his piercing eyes boring into mine. “Rule three,” Theo said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “you are not allowed to leave this house. Not the grounds, not the gates, not even the threshold of the front door without my explicit permission. This mansion is your entire world now. Every corner of it belongs to me, as do you while you’re here.”

My stomach twisted into a tighter knot, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a vise. My throat felt dry, but I forced myself to stay silent. He wasn’t done yet.

“And,” he continued, his tone sharpening, “you are not to make contact with anyone outside of these walls. No calls, no letters, no messages—nothing. I control the flow of information in and out of this house. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I whispered, the word feeling like it was ripped from me.

His lips curled into a small, satisfied smirk. “Good.” He extended a hand toward me, palm up. “Now, your phone.”

My heart sank. I instinctively reached for the pocket of the dress before realizing it didn’t have one. Of course, it wouldn’t. The dress was designed to strip away any hint of convenience or normalcy.

“I—I don’t have it with me,” I stammered, my voice shaky. “It’s in the room.”

Theo’s smirk didn’t waver, but his eyes darkened slightly. “Bell will retrieve it for me,” he said coldly. “You won’t need it anymore, so don’t even think about asking for it back.”

My hands clenched at my sides, my nails biting into my palms. I wanted to argue, to protest, but the weight of his presence and Bell’s warning kept my mouth shut.

“Good,” he said again, his tone smug. He took a step back, crossing his arms as he regarded me with a look that was equal parts satisfaction and condescension. “You’re learning quickly.

Theo’s sharp gaze never wavered as he continued, the room’s oppressive silence amplifying his next words.

“Rule four,” he said, his voice low and deliberate, “you will follow my instructions without hesitation. I will not repeat myself, nor will I tolerate disobedience. Any deviation from my orders will result in consequences you won’t enjoy.”

My breath hitched. His words were laced with an icy finality that left no room for interpretation. I nodded once, unsure if I could trust my voice to respond.

Theo’s lips twitched into a faint, humorless smile. “Ah, finally understanding your place, are you?”

He moved closer, his towering presence looming over me like a dark shadow. I fought the urge to shrink back, knowing it would only satisfy whatever twisted power he derived from my fear.

Theo’s voice dropped even lower, the tone shifting into something far more dangerous, laced with a dark, undeniable hunger. His eyes bore into mine, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something more terrifying than his cold authority—desire.

“And the last rule,” he said, his voice silky and deliberate, each word dripping with a possessive intensity that made my stomach churn. “You will not try to leave me.”

He stepped closer, the space between us nearly nonexistent now. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and it took everything I had not to step back. His gaze roamed over me, slow and predatory, his lips curving into a smirk that sent a cold shiver down my spine.

“You are mine, Sofia,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper, yet it echoed in the room as though it were the only sound that mattered. “Mine to keep, mine to play with, and mine to discard when I’m done with you.”

The air felt thick, suffocating, as his words hung in the space between us. I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out. What could I even say to that? His eyes burned with a possessive fire, one that seemed to see straight through me, stripping away any semblance of power I might have hoped to hold onto.

Theo tilted his head, studying my silence with a faint, amused smirk. “No protests?” he asked, his voice taunting, as though daring me to defy him. When I remained frozen, he leaned in, his breath brushing against my ear. “Good. You’re learning.”

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as the weight of his words settled over me. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to fight back, to do something—but the cold reality of my situation held me captive, just as effectively as his looming presence.

Before Theo could say anything else, the door swung open wide, and a voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

“Theo!!” The woman’s voice echoed through the room, cutting through the thick tension like a knife.