Aria woke to the soft, steady hum of the mansion. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, painting the room in warm golden streaks that seemed almost cruel in contrast to the turmoil in her chest. She lay for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to steady her racing thoughts. One year. One year trapped in this world with the man who had destroyed her family.
The room was luxurious beyond anything she had ever seen. A king-sized bed, silk sheets, a wardrobe that could have held her entire city apartment, and a bathroom that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel. Everything gleamed, pristine and untouched. But Aria felt none of the comfort. This place was a cage, gilded and suffocating, and she was its reluctant prisoner.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed her eyes. Her stomach knotted as memories of the hospital, the bills, and her mother's frail cough flooded back. She had done what she had to do. She had signed the contract. But seeing the scale of the world she had entered made her heart tremble.
A soft knock at the door startled her.
"Miss Cole," a calm, practiced voice called. "Breakfast is ready."
Aria stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her nightgown. Her first meal in Lucien Blackwood's mansion felt like walking a tightrope. She was careful with her steps, careful not to disturb the air around her. Every corner of this house seemed to whisper rules she hadn't yet learned.
The dining hall was a cavern of polished wood and crystal chandeliers, with sunlight reflecting off the marble floor. At the head of the long table sat Lucien, dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored black trousers, reviewing documents with his usual intensity. His presence filled the room in a way that made her stomach twist.
"Good morning," she said cautiously, her voice almost a whisper.
Lucien looked up, eyes narrowing slightly. "Morning," he replied, his tone neutral but sharp, as if testing her.
She took a seat at the far end of the table, careful not to intrude on his space. The breakfast staff served silently, glancing at her occasionally as if warning her not to make a misstep.
Lucien folded the documents and placed them neatly on the table. His gaze settled on her. "You will learn quickly," he said, voice low. "There are rules in this house. Observe them, follow them, and you will live comfortably. Break them, and consequences follow. That is all."
Aria clenched her fists under the table. The rules were harsh, rigid, and suffocating. But she reminded herself: survival first. Pride could come later, if at all.
"Yes, sir," she murmured.
He nodded once and turned his attention back to the documents. Silence fell over the room, heavy and uncomfortable. Aria's appetite vanished. She pushed the food around on her plate, careful not to make eye contact.
After breakfast, she wandered through the mansion, trying to familiarize herself with her new environment. Every room was immaculate. The library was filled with leather-bound books and rare editions; the living room had art she didn't understand but could feel the value of; even the hallways seemed to hum with power.
Her footsteps echoed as she explored. She found the guest suite was connected to a private terrace overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking—skyline glittering, cars moving like miniature toys below—but it reminded her how far she had fallen from her old life. The mansion was opulent, but it wasn't hers. She was a visitor, a contract-bound stranger in a world that was not made for her.
Hours passed. She cleaned, organized, and tried to make the space feel slightly more like her own, but every action felt futile. She dropped a small vase while dusting a shelf, the sharp crack echoing loudly in the empty hall.
Lucien appeared suddenly, his presence quiet but commanding. "Do you see the damage you've caused?" he asked calmly.
Aria froze. "I… I didn't mean—"
He cut her off with a hand gesture. "Intentions don't matter. Actions do. Learn to be mindful. You are in my house. My rules apply. Do not forget this."
Her chest tightened. She had thought she could navigate this world carefully, but it was already clear: every misstep would be noticed, every mistake judged.
"Yes, sir," she said, swallowing her pride.
He studied her for a long moment, then turned and left without another word. The encounter left her shaken, but it also ignited a spark of determination. She would survive. She had to.
That evening, as she prepared for bed, her mind wandered to the day's events. Each interaction with Lucien had been a test—subtle, precise, exhausting. She remembered his sharp gaze, the way his presence seemed to dominate every space he entered. And yet… she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than the cold, controlling exterior.
A soft knock came at the door. She opened it cautiously to find Lucien standing there again. He held a small envelope.
"For you," he said simply.
Aria took it, her hands trembling slightly. Inside was a note: "Rules of the house, explicitly detailed. Read carefully. Ignorance is not an excuse."
Her stomach sank. Even after a day, she had barely scratched the surface of the strict life she had agreed to. And Lucien… he was always watching, always aware, always one step ahead.
"Thank you," she murmured.
He inclined his head slightly. "Do not thank me for rules. Follow them, or consequences follow."
Her heart thudded. The danger in his calm voice was real, tangible, and unrelenting. She realized she wasn't just surviving in this house—she was walking a tightrope over a pit she couldn't see.
As Lucien turned to leave, Aria's eyes caught something she hadn't expected: a faint, almost imperceptible hesitation in his step. A flicker of… concern? No. It was too brief to read. She shook her head. She couldn't let herself think like that. Not yet.
She closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. One year. She had signed a contract for one year, but each day already felt like a lifetime. And she realized, with a shiver, that the real challenge wasn't the mansion, the rules, or even Lucien's gaze—it was surviving her own emotions, the hatred she felt, and the dangerous curiosity that kept her heart beating faster whenever he was near.
Tomorrow, she would start again. Observing. Learning. Surviving. One step at a time.
And somewhere deep inside, she couldn't ignore it—the knowledge that this year would change her in ways she could not imagine