Aurora’s eyes were wide with terror, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. “I… I just… want to go home,” she managed to croak out, her voice barely above a whisper.
Damian’s grip on her throat loosened slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Home?” he echoed, his voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. “You don’t have another home apart from my house, Aurora.” His words were a cold, hard slap in the face, a stark reminder of the reality she had been trying to escape.
Her eyes searched his, looking for a shred of mercy, a hint of humanity. But all she found was the cold, unyielding gaze of a predator. He stood up, looking down at her, his body a towering silhouette against the flickering firelight. Aurora’s eyes fell to his erection, still straining against the fabric of his pants, and she felt a fresh wave of horror and revulsion.
“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice a low growl. “And I’ll do with you as I please.”
With those chilling words, Damian released Aurora’s throat, allowing her to gasp for air. She coughed and sputtered, her eyes watering as she watched him walk away from the bed, his steps deliberate and powerful. The sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he approached the door, leaving Aurora trembling on the bed, her heart racing like a wild animal’s.
He paused, his hand on the doorknob, and glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes met hers for a brief moment, the fire in them unabated despite her desperate struggle. “I’ll give you tonight to think about your place here,” he said, his voice a mix of warning and anticipation. “But tomorrow, your training begins.”
With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Aurora alone with her racing thoughts and the cold embrace of the room. She laid back on the bed, her body a trembling mess of fear and adrenaline. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, a cruel reminder of the monster who now owned her. She buried her face in the pillow, trying to muffle the sobs that were tearing through her chest. The fabric was soft against her skin, but it couldn’t soften the blow of her shattered innocence.
As the night dragged on, Aurora’s mind raced with thoughts of escape. The walls of the mansion felt like they were closing in on her, each tick of the grandfather clock in the hall a nail in the coffin of her freedom. She knew she had to be smart, to find a weakness in this fortress, but the sheer opulence was overwhelming, leaving her feeling small and insignificant.
The next morning, the sun pierced through the thick curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Aurora’s eyes snapped open, the horror of the previous night still fresh in her mind. She sat up, her body stiff and sore, and took in the sight of the crimson dress laid out beside her, as if it were a taunting reminder of her fate. A maid, her eyes downcast, hovered at the door, her expression a blend of pity and professional detachment.
“Put on that, miss,” the maid said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re to join the other girls.”
Aurora’s eyes fell to the crimson dress, the color of blood, the color of the life that was being drained from her. She felt a surge of anger, but she knew that fighting would only bring her more pain. Slowly, she climbed out of the bed, her legs wobbly from fear and the aftermath of her struggle. She pulled the dress over her head, the fabric sliding over her bruised skin like a scarlet shroud.
The maid didn’t meet her eyes as Aurora followed her from the room, the hallways of the mansion stretching out before them like the corridors of hell. The opulence that had once seemed so impressive now felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the cold, stark cell she had called home just hours before. Her heart hammered in her chest with every step she took, her bare feet whispering against the marble floor.
They arrived at a grand ballroom, the kind Aurora had only ever seen in fairy tales, with high ceilings, grand chandeliers, and velvet curtains that whispered secrets of the night’s to come. But there was no fairy godmother waiting to whisk her away to a ball; instead, she was met with a gathering of girls, all dressed in various shades of red and black, their eyes downcast and their expressions a mix of resignation and fear.
The maid pushed Aurora into the room, the door clicking shut behind her with a finality that sent a shiver down her spine. She looked around, taking in the sea of faces that mirrored her own dread. These girls, she realized with a sinking feeling, were all Damian’s property, all bound to serve his desires without question.
One by one, they were called forward by a stern-faced woman who introduced herself as Miss Catherine. Aurora’s stomach twisted into knots as she listened to the instructions being given, each girl nodding in silent understanding. They were to be clean, obedient, and always ready to please. Any disobedience would be met with swift and severe punishment.
Then she turned to me, her eyes raking over my trembling form with a cold, calculating gaze. “Aurora,” she said, her voice clipped and efficient. “You’re new. I’m sure you understand the rules by now.”
My throat was dry, my voice a croak. “I don’t know anything about the rules,” I managed to murmur, my eyes darting around the room, searching for an escape that wasn’t there.
Miss Catherine’s eyebrow quirked up in surprise. “Your Madam Elena didn’t explain?” she asked, her tone icy.
Aurora shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “No,” she whispered. “Please, I don’t want to be here. Please, help me.”
But the room only fell silent, and then the other girls erupted into laughter, their cruel mirth bouncing off the walls of the opulent chamber. They knew better than to show any weakness in front of Miss Catherine, and Aurora’s plea had only made her more of an outsider. The sound of their laughter was a slap in the face, each giggle a nail in the coffin of Aurora’s hope.