3.

Cynthia stood frozen in the grand foyer, her gaze fixed on the man at the top of the staircase. For a brief moment, their eyes met. The stranger stood motionless, one hand resting lightly on the polished railing.

He was younger than she had expected, and she wondered whether he was the one who brought her because something was unsettling about the way he looked at her, not with interest or curiosity. Before Cynthia could gather the courage to speak, the man turned away.

Without a word, he climbed the stairs and disappeared into the upper floor.

Cynthia blinked. A strange mixture of relief and disappointment settled inside her chest.

Moments later, another man approached. He appeared to be in his late fifties, dressed in a dark suit.

"Miss Hart."

His voice was polite.

Cynthia turned toward him.

"My name is William Foster. I am the butler of Blackwood Estate."

She offered a small smile.

"Nice to meet you."

"Please follow me."

The butler picked up her small bag and led her toward a grand staircase. As they walked, Cynthia couldn't help noticing how enormous the mansion was.

Every room looked larger than her entire house. On the second floor, they stopped outside a large wooden door.

"Your room is inside."

"Thank you."

The butler nodded.

"If you need anything, simply call."

Before entering, Cynthia pulled out her phone.

There was one thing she needed to do first.

She called Leo.

Her younger brother answered almost immediately.

"Cyn?"

His voice sounded sleepy.

"You're still awake?"

"I was waiting for your call."

The familiar guilt squeezed her heart.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"You took your medicine?"

"Yes."

"You didn't give the nurses a hard time?"

"I would never."

She laughed softly.

"You don't have to worry about me," he said.

His words nearly broke her. Everything she was doing was because she worried about him.

"Get some sleep," she whispered.

"I will."

"Cyn?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Her throat tightened.

"I love you too."

After ending the call, she stared at the screen for several seconds.

Then she took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

And she immediately froze. Someone was already inside. The same man from the staircase.

He stood near the large floor-to-ceiling windows. Moonlight streamed through the glass behind him.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in all-black casual clothes.

The moonlight outlined his sharp jaw and dark hair. His expression remained unreadable.

Cynthia's pulse quickened. Still, she forced herself to smile.

“Hi,”

The man said nothing. His gaze moved over her briefly before settling on her face.

“You are Cynthia Hart?”

His voice was deep, steady, and commanding.

"Yes, sir."

Again, she got only the silence.

"I wanted to thank you."

No response from him but she continued anyway.

“You saved my brother's life. I don't know why you chose me, but... thank you,”

The man's expression didn't change. If anything, he seemed even grimmer. More uncomfortable.

Finally, he spoke, “Undress,”

The single word hit her like a slap.

"What?"

His expression remained unchanged.

“Do it,”

Shock rooted her to the spot.

Every warning she'd ignored suddenly echoed through her mind. Perhaps this was the price after all.

"You said you wanted to save your brother."

“Yes, but…”

“Do it,”

Her heart hammered violently. She remembered every line in the agreement. She clearly read that she had to do whatever her companion demands physically. Whether it’s lifting, touching, or even sleeping with them.

Slowly, she placed her handbag on the couch. She removed her t-shirt and then her jeans.

Her hands trembled despite her efforts to remain composed. Humiliation burned through her. Not because of him, but because she had put herself in this position.

When her fingers reached for the clasp of her bra, “Enough,” he said.

She’s confused.

The man was watching her with the same unreadable expression.

"Get into bed."

"What?"

"Sleep,"

Cynthia blinked and headed toward the enormous bed. Pulling the sheets over herself, she settled awkwardly near the edge.

The stranger walked toward the opposite side of the room. Without another word, he loosened the top buttons of his shirt.

Is she going to do it with me? She dreaded. She couldn't understand him.

A few moments later, he switched off the bed lights. Darkness filled the room, and only the moonlight remained.

Then the mattress shifted. Cynthia's eyes widened.

The man lay down beside her. He didn’t touch her or speak another word.

Just lay there, close enough for her to hear his breathing. She couldn't predict him or figure out what he wanted.

She wouldn’t have believed it if someone said to her that she was going to be in a strange mansion with a man she had met less than an hour ago, and she would go to bed with him.

She stared into the darkness. Her heart refuses to slow. Questions raced through her mind.

Who was he? Why had he chosen her? Is it a random selection?

Why had he brought her here only to ask her to sleep next to him?

Beside her, the stranger remained silent. He’s awake and watching the ceiling as if sleep was something that had abandoned him a long time ago.

She dared not look at his side. It’s uncomfortable to feel his skin next to hers. Even though the room is air-conditioned, she feels so hot in here

Cynthia is so frightened, and she wonders whether the stranger will just jump on her any moment…