A love unscripted

Ariel's eyes fluttered open, her mind foggy and disoriented. She was met with an unfamiliar ceiling adorned with intricate molding and a dazzling chandelier. She sat up, rubbing her temples, having a slight headache trying to remember how she got there.

The room was grandiose, with expensive furnishings and artwork. The room was certainly unfamiliar and she could tell because she had never been in a room like that in her life. 

“Where was I?” She wondered as she threw off the covers and flung her legs over the size of the bed. With a wave of dizziness and headache accompanying her move, she leans over the bedside table for support. 

Ariel's mind was a jumbled mess with no idea of what happened the previous night. Was she with friends? Did she meet someone? And more importantly, how did she get here? 

Ariel is trying to get familiar with her surroundings. A sense of alarm rushed over her. Was she kidnapped? “No, if this was an abduction, I certainly won't be brought to a place this luxurious, and I have nothing they could possibly want as ransom.” She reassured herself as she tried to remain calm. 

Her gaze was drawn to a vintage painting on the wall, stirring a sense of familiarity within her. She made way for the door, but it seemed locked, and so she reputed to the bed as she held her head. 

The door opens tentatively to reveal a man in formal attire and holding up a tea tray. “Good morning, Madam Ariel. My name is Watson, the butler. It's my pleasure to serve you while you're here,” He said with a gallant bow. 

"Master Connel requests the pleasure of your company at breakfast, Madam Ariel. Perhaps you would like to freshen up beforehand?" His eyes gestured discretely towards the door, indicating that her quarters were ready for her use.

Ariel's mind raced with questions. “where am I? And who's Connel?” she inquired. Watson replied with a smile, “I think Master Connel will be in the right position to provide you with the answers you seek. Please accept this tea for your headache.” With that, he placed the tray down and shut the door behind him. 

The usual weight she carried on her neck wasn't there. She felt naked in that area, reaching for her neck in thoughts that she misplaced the one thing she held dear to her heart- her locket. Emotions of fear and anxiety built up as she made a move to search for it in the room.

She turned over to the bedside and noticed her locket lying there-the very one she never took off, no matter the occasion. It had been a gift from her. Pleased she has worn it ever since. She touched her neck, and it was then she realized the clothes she had on were unmistakably not hers, With a feeling of irritation the satin brought to her skin. 

Ariel's eyes wandered to the small golden locket on her dresser. It was an old family heirloom, passed to her by her grandmother. As she picked it up, memories flooded her mind.

She was a little child again, sitting at the kitchen table with her family. Her parents were arguing about bills and finances, their voices hushed but urgent. Ariel's stomach growled with hunger and she felt a pang of guilt for wanting food when her parents were struggling to provide.

The memory stung and Ariel's eyes pricked with tears. She shook off the feeling, returning to the present. The locket still clutched in her hand, she felt a surge of determination and strength.

The more she tried to recall everything, the more pain her head felt. She reached for the tea tray and sipped the tea gradually. In the hope that it will help in relieving the pains she felt, she is still looking around to get familiar with the environment. 

As the memories of the previous night flooded her mind, she recalled being hired to waitress at a grand party. She had arrived with a group of colleagues intending to leave with them after the event. However, her last memory was of serving cocktails and then... nothing.

Her gaze fell upon the tea tray, where an engraved name caught her attention: " The Wilder." The name seemed familiar but she couldn't quite place it. "I've come across this name before," Ariel whispered to herself, "but where?" A shiver ran down her spine as she wondered if this mansion belonged to the Wilder family. Who were they and why was she here?

Watson's voice interrupted her thoughts, "Madam, breakfast is served." He stood at the door, awaiting her response. Ariel blinked, still trying to process her surroundings. As Watson gestured for her to take the lead, Ariel instructed him to take the lead instead. Her curiosity and concern about the situation grew by the minute.

As they walked down the hall, Ariel couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. The decorations and lavish furnishings seemed to tell a story, but she was determined to uncover the truth about her presence in their mansion

Right at the dining hall was a long dinner table one could say was set for a royal family but there was no soul present. Ariel stood as she adored the hall rendered to the activity of eating and the glamorous dishes set aside on the table. 

She notices the exact painting she had seen in the room, but it still lingers in the shadows of her memory. Everything in this mansion seemed familiar as if she had stumbled into a dream she couldn't quite recall. " Why would one have the same painting mounted in different areas of their house?" She whispered to herself, her brow furrowed, in concentration.

As she stood frozen in front of the table, a low smooth voice pierced the silence, sending shivers down her spine. "You don't need to admire the house," the words dripped with amusement.

Ariel spun around, her heart racing to find the speaker. A towering figure emerged from the shadows, his broad shoulders and chiseled features radiating an aura of power. Connel's piercing eyes locked into hers , his gaze lingering on her face before sweeping down to her dress.

I can see you're feeling better," he said, his voice low and husky as he moved closer to her. Ariel felt a flutter in her chest, her senses heightened as she took in the sheer presence of the man before her.

Connel's eyes seemed to bore into her soul as if searching for something hidden deep within. Ariel felt a shiver run down her spine, her skin prickling with unease. She tried to step back but her legs seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move as Connel's gaze held her captive.

She tried to step back, but her legs seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move as Connel's gaze held her captive. He takes another step closer, his movements are fluid and deliberate,before making a sudden movement,t stepping away from Ariel and heading straight for his chair at the dining table.

"I don't need another maid waiting around the table, have your seat," he said, his voice filled with authority, like a king commanding his subject. Ariel, in a moment of disbelief and uncertainty,y pulls out a chair and sits down,unaware of what action to take next.

Fear builds up in her loins as she stares, confused, at the dishes before her, her mind racing with questions. "Who are you?" She says finally, building up the courage to speak her voice barely above a whisper.

Connel looks up, his eyes locking into hers, a hint of amusement dancing in their depths. "Connel Wilder," he replies,his voice low and smooth like silk gliding over through skin, as he looks directly into her eyes.