Prison

"I'm sorry again," Cynthia said quietly, lowering her head.

Damien took another sip from the glass in his hand before looking at her.

"Do you know there's a clause in the contract?" he asked calmly. "If you breach the rules, you have to pay me ten million dollars. Should I do that?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

She knew about that clause.

She had read it.

Or rather, she had skimmed through it while desperately thinking about Leo's surgery. At that time, nothing else had mattered.

"I... I know."

"So?"

"I'm really sorry."

He remained silent.

"It won't happen again," she continued quickly. "I promise. My brother just had surgery today. I wanted to stay until I knew he was alright."

Damien swirled the amber liquid inside his glass.

"I don't need your apology."

She looked at him nervously.

"It's too boring."

Cynthia pressed her lips together.

"Then... what should I do?"

For several long seconds, Damien simply stared at her.

His expression gave nothing away.

"You don't leave this estate without my permission."

She blinked.

"But..."

"I don't want to hear any excuses."

His tone wasn't loud.

If anything, it was frighteningly calm.

"You kept me waiting."

"I didn't mean to..."

"You ruined my sleep."

The words were simple, yet she could hear the irritation behind them.

He looked away from her and toward the staircase.

"You can go."

She hesitated.

"Go and sleep."

There was nothing more to say. She quietly nodded and walked upstairs. Every step felt heavier than the last.

The bedroom was exactly as she'd left it that morning.

Perfectly neat. Perfectly quiet. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment.

The silence suddenly felt overwhelming. Slowly, she walked toward the bed and sat on its edge.

She hugged a pillow against herself and stared at the floor.

Leo was finally safe.

That thought alone should have made today one of the happiest days of her life.

Lying down on the enormous bed, she stared at the ceiling.

The mansion was silent.

Luxury surrounded her from every direction, yet she had never felt more trapped.

It felt like a prison.

---

Sunlight streamed through the curtains the next morning.

Cynthia opened her eyes slowly.

For a brief second, she forgot where she was.

Then reality returned.

Leo.

She immediately threw the blanket aside and reached for her bag.

"I have to go to the hospital..."

Her words stopped halfway.

She froze.

Damien's voice echoed inside her mind.

*"You don't leave this estate without my permission."*

Her shoulders slowly slumped.

She sat back down on the bed.

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips.

"This is going to be harder than I thought."

After taking a shower and changing back into the clothes she'd worn the previous day, she walked downstairs.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted her.

The dining room looked bright and welcoming.

William stood near the table.

"Good morning, Miss Hart."

"Good morning."

"I hope you rested well."

She smiled politely.

"I did."

He gestured toward the table.

"Please have your breakfast."

Before Cynthia could thank him, another woman entered carrying several dishes.

She appeared to be around fifty, with kind eyes and a warm smile.

"This is Martha," William introduced.

"Our head cook."

"It's nice to meet you," Martha said cheerfully as she placed the food on the table.

"I've made pancakes, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and toast."

Cynthia's eyes widened.

"This is too much."

"You need to eat."

"I usually just have bread and tea."

Martha looked genuinely horrified.

"Not while you're staying here."

A small laugh escaped Cynthia.

"Thank you."

She sat down and looked at the beautifully prepared breakfast.

Everything smelled wonderful.

Yet she found herself absentmindedly pushing the food around her plate.

Martha noticed immediately.

"Is something wrong, Miss Hart?"

"No."

"You've barely eaten."

"I'm just worried."

The older woman softened.

"About your brother?"

Cynthia nodded.

"He had surgery yesterday."

"I hope he's recovering well."

"He is."

"Then you should eat. You won't be able to help anyone if you fall sick."

Cynthia smiled gratefully.

"I'll try."

After taking a few bites, she looked around.

"Has Mr. Blackwood already left for work?"

Martha shook her head.

"No."

"He's still here?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"His office upstairs."

Cynthia instinctively looked toward the second floor.

"I should thank him."

Martha's smile disappeared.

"I wouldn't recommend that."

"Why?"

"Mr. Blackwood doesn't like being disturbed while he's working."

"Oh."

"Very few people enter that office."

Even William remained silent.

The brief change in atmosphere told Cynthia enough.

Whatever happened inside that office...

It was better not to ask.

After breakfast, she stepped outside into the garden.

The morning breeze brushed gently against her face.

Birds chirped among the trees, and colorful flowers bloomed along the stone pathway.

The estate looked peaceful.

Too peaceful.

She dialed her aunt's number.

It rang twice before she answered.

"Cynthia?"

"How's Leo?"

"He's awake."

A smile immediately spread across her face.

"Really?"

"He had breakfast and complained that the soup tastes terrible."

Cynthia laughed.

"That's my Leo."

"Don't worry. He's recovering well."

"Thank you for staying with him."

"You don't have to thank me."

"I do."

There was a brief pause.

"I feel terrible for leaving him."

"He's not alone."

"I know."

"I'll take care of him until you can come."

Relief washed over Cynthia. She trusted her aunt completely. She had always been there for them, even if she couldn't help financially.

After ending the call, Cynthia immediately transferred some money to her aunt's account.

She knew her aunt would never ask for it. But looking after Leo meant extra meals, transport, and countless little expenses. It was the least she could do. She slipped her phone back into her pocket and released a long breath.

For the first time that morning, she allowed herself to simply stand there.

The estate was beautiful.

Green lawns stretched endlessly before her.

A fountain sparkled beneath the sunlight.

Anyone looking from the outside would think this was paradise. Yet something made the back of her neck tingle.

A strange feeling.

As if she wasn't alone.

Slowly, she lifted her head.

One of the upstairs windows caught her attention.

A tall figure stood behind the glass. Motionless and watching her.

Even from this distance, she recognized him.

Damien. Their eyes seemed to meet for only a second. Then the curtain shifted.

The figure disappeared.

Leaving Cynthia alone in the garden with an uneasy feeling that, inside Blackwood Estate, nothing escaped Damien's notice.