Chapter 2: The Stranger's Mansion
She had no choice.
Her gown clung to her body like a soaked memory, her arms frozen with fear, but when the mysterious man held out his hand again, she took it.
Not because she trusted him.
Not because she wanted to.
But because she had nowhere else to go.
Behind her, the world she'd escaped was stirring with chaos. Her relatives. Her parents. Her entire family was probably searching for her—calling her name, wondering why their sweet, obedient Janet had run from the altar.
And if they knew what she had overheard… they would fall apart.
So she let the stranger guide her.
As they walked back through the tangled woods, she glanced at him under the pale moonlight. He looked young—maybe 22, 23 at most—but there was something ancient in the way he moved. Calm. In control. His black coat billowed behind him, his face unreadable.
As they approached a sleek black car parked along the deserted roadside, Janet hesitated.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked quietly.
He opened the passenger door for her. "Home."
"Your home?"
"Yes."
Janet's heart twisted. "Why? Why are you helping me?"
He turned to her, eyes glinting like shadows. "Because I know you. More than you know yourself."
She blinked. "But… I've never seen you before."
He paused, lips tightening just slightly, as if her words stung.
"You really don't know who I am?" he asked, voice low.
She shook her head, whispering, "No…"
But in her mind, she added, And I don't trust you either.
He heard nothing—but somehow, as he looked at her, his eyes darkened with silent pain.
He didn't say a word. He simply nodded and walked around to the driver's seat.
The ride was long and quiet.
Janet sat beside him, soaked and shivering, her body stiff with grief. Her mind screamed. Her chest hurt. She gazed blankly out of the window, watching the city blur into darkness. Trees flickered past. Lights came and went.
And in her head, the betrayal replayed like a curse.
He sold me. Asher sold me…
Her chest tightened. Her hands curled into fists.
What would her parents think now? Would they be frantic, thinking she was kidnapped? Would Asher lie again? Pretend she went mad? Tell them something even more cruel?
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
The man beside her didn't say a word.
But he noticed. Every tear. Every breath. Every time her hand shook or her lip trembled. He noticed everything.
---
By the time the car rolled to a stop, Janet sat up, confused.
Her eyes widened.
The mansion before her looked like something out of a forbidden tale. It rose from the earth like a fortress—black stone walls, towering gates, guards at the entrance. Elegant cars were parked in the circular driveway. The windows glowed with soft, amber light. A water fountain roared in the middle of the front garden, carved with marble lions.
It wasn't just a house.
It was a kingdom.
Or a mafia's den.
"Is this… your place?" Janet asked, stunned.
The man simply nodded and opened her door. Servants appeared almost instantly, some carrying towels, others looking respectfully at her, as though they already knew who she was.
She felt small. Out of place. Like a pawn in someone else's story.
Inside, the mansion was warm, glowing with golden chandeliers and deep wood accents. The scent of sandalwood and fresh linen floated in the air. Velvet curtains, marble floors, high ceilings—it was a world apart from hers.
"I'll show you your room," he said.
But before she could respond, he paused.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his jaw clenched slightly.
He answered, keeping his voice low.
At the same time—across town—another phone call was happening.
---
Asher's Apartment
The screen lit up with his best friend's name. Asher, still in his tuxedo with the collar undone, was pacing like a madman.
"Where the hell is she?" he growled into the phone.
"I saw her," the friend whispered, glancing around nervously. "Janet. She was with some guy. Black coat. Tall. They got into a black car near the woods."
Asher stopped breathing. "WHAT?!"
"She didn't even look back. I got the car's number plate. I'll send it now."
Asher's phone buzzed again—an image attached.
Then, another call came through.
Blocked number.
He picked up.
A gravelly voice hissed on the other end. "You think this is a joke, boy? You sold me that girl. For a million. If she's gone, you're dead."
Asher's face twisted. "I—I'll find her. I swear—"
"You better. Or the next thing you'll be wearing is a body bag."
The line went dead.
Asher smashed the glass on the table with his fist.
"Janet… You made the biggest mistake of your life," he snarled under his breath. "Now you'll die in hell."
---
Back at the mansion, the mysterious man ended his own call silently.
He looked back at Janet, who was now standing beside the grand staircase, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
He walked over and gently placed a warm towel over her shoulders.
She flinched—but didn't pull away.
"I'll get you clothes and food," he said. "You're safe here."
Janet finally looked up at him. Her eyes were swollen from crying, but her voice was steady.
"What's your name?" she asked.
He paused for a moment… then finally replied,
"Luke."