Mia arrived with only a file.
No suitcase. No bag. Nothing that suggested staying. The thin folder was pressed to her chest as if it were the last thing still anchoring her to the life she had left behind.
Theon noticed it immediately.
He didn't comment on it.
"Give her a room in the main wing," he said to the staff beside him.
That was all.
No further instructions. No elaboration. He didn't look at Mia when he said it, already turning away as if the matter required no more attention.
Mia stood still for a moment, waiting for something else to follow. It didn't.
She was led down the corridor in silence.
The room was not what she expected.
It wasn't dark.
It wasn't small.
It wasn't bare.
Sunlight filtered in through tall windows, falling across a neatly made bed and a desk positioned to catch the morning light. The furniture was simple but solid, the kind chosen to last rather than impress. There was a wardrobe, already stocked with clothes folded with careful precision.
She stood just inside the doorway, unsure whether she was allowed to step further.
So this is the cage, she thought.
A comfortable one, perhaps — but a cage all the same.
Later, food was brought. Warm. Properly prepared. Enough for one person.
She didn't touch it at first.
Her parents' voices lingered instead, louder than the quiet room.
"Theon Martinez asked for you as repayment."
The words replayed again and again, settling into her mind like a verdict. They had said it quickly, as if stating a fact made it easier to bear. As if the blame could be neatly placed elsewhere.
She swallowed and finally ate, not because she wanted to — but because hunger made resistance feel childish.
That night, she lay awake long after the house had fallen silent.
She wondered what kind of man asked for a person as repayment.
What kind of man waited.
_______________________________________________
Morning came too soon.
A knock sounded at her door — firm, brief, controlled.
She opened it cautiously.
Theon stood there, already dressed, already awake for hours by the look of him.
"Awake already?" he asked .
"Yes, sir," she replied automatically.
He didn't comment on the title. Didn't correct it. Didn't acknowledge it at all.
"Follow me." He said .
She hesitated — just long enough to consider refusing — then obeyed.
They walked in silence to the dining area. The table was already set. Simple breakfast. Nothing extravagant. Nothing neglected.
Mia remained standing.
"Sit," Theon said, pulling out a chair across from her.
She sat but didn't reach for the food.
"Eat," he said, tone neutral. Professional. Almost distant.
"We have things to discuss."
That was it.
No reassurance.
No command disguised as kindness.
Just expectation.
Mia lowered her gaze to the plate, her thoughts already filling in meanings he hadn't given.
He wants me alert.
He wants control.
He wants to get this over with.
She didn't see the way his eyes flicked briefly to her untouched food.
She didn't notice how he waited until she took the first bite before reaching for his own.
And she didn't realize that the conversation she feared wasn't coming yet.