Chapter 2 - You’re Here To Warm My Bed

Lucia's POV

After humiliating me, Dante dismissed me immediately. He ordered a maid to escort me to my room. My head hung low as I slowly followed the maid down the hall.

I was naked, exposed, and ashamed. My body stiffened, and this time, the tears kept flowing down my cheeks like an uncontrollable river.

The maid halted in front of a wooden door at the end of the hallway. She turned to gaze at me, and I could have sworn I heard her sigh.

“This is your room. Master Dante has ordered me to bring you a new set of clothes and food.”

The mention of food made me scoff bitterly. Was he offering me food after embarrassing me in front of his men? Did he truly think I would have any appetite after what had just happened? After the way he had treated me?

Shaking my head, I replied, my voice quiet but filled with disdain, “Keep the food, I won’t be needing it.” My hand gripped the doorknob, and I twisted it, trying to escape the weight of the humiliation. But the maid’s hand reached out and stopped me.

I looked up at her, my brows furrowing. Her face held a look of pity, which made me feel even worse. My defenses crumbled, and I could barely raise my head without feeling the heavy weight of shame.

“This may be hard for you, but you’ll get used to it. It’s nothing new to us, so don’t feel embarrassed. I’ll bring you some clothes and food.” The maid’s voice was kind, but she didn’t wait for me to reply. She turned and walked away without another word.

Before she left, I noticed something. Her face became expressionless, and she pretended like she had not just acted kind towards me. Was emotional display forbidden here too?

Frustration bubbled up inside me as I slammed the door shut behind me. I looked around the room, it was small but cozy. The simple wooden furniture looked well-maintained, but nothing about it could soothe the storm of emotions within me.

The bed was tucked into the corner of the room, and beside it stood a small wardrobe. When I opened it, I found it empty—except for a pistol. A shiver ran down my spine. It reminded me of my new life as Dante’s servant: a life of constant danger.

I swallowed hard and sank down onto the bed, staring at the gun. Despite how soft the bed looked, I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping well tonight. How could I?

Later, the maid returned with clothes and food. I changed quickly into the sweatshirt and jeans she brought. I laid back on the bed, leaving the food untouched on the bedside table.

Once again, I was alone to wallow in my misery.

I didn’t know when I fell asleep, but the harsh sound of an alarm clock dragged me back to reality. My eyes snapped open, and I groaned, my mind foggy with exhaustion. The sunlight streaming through the window nearly blinded me, and I squinted against the brightness.

I rolled over to the other side of the bed but lost my balance and tumbled to the floor. The pain shot through me, snapping me awake completely. I winced as I pushed myself to my feet, clutching the side of the bed to steady myself.

It was 6 a.m. My heart skipped. Why was there an alarm set for this hour? I hadn’t remembered setting it.

Before I could process it, a loud bang on the door startled me. I jumped, my heart racing. I hurried to the door and opened it to find a maid—different from the one yesterday—standing in the doorway. She scowled at me, her wrinkles deepening as she frowned.

“Hello?” I raised a brow at her, trying to stay calm despite the tension.

She ignored my greeting and pushed past me into the room. I noticed her eyes scanning the room as she entered, and in her hands, she held another pile of clothes. What did Dante want now? More humiliation? Was I supposed to entertain his guests in these clothes?

The maid dumped the clothes onto the bed and snapped, “Get dressed.”

Her cold tone was enough to make me swallow my frustration. “Master Dante’s orders?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Yes. He has a meeting scheduled for 7 a.m. and wants you to accompany him.” The maid’s voice held no warmth. “You have less than an hour left to get ready. He’s waiting downstairs. And just so you know, Master Dante hates lateness.”

With no time to argue, I rushed into the bathroom, hoping I could get a quick shower to clear my mind. But as the hot water rushed over me, my thoughts spiraled. What meeting was Dante having, and why was I involved in it? Why couldn’t I just stay in the mansion and do my duties like the other maids?

I finished my shower quickly and pulled on the black knee-length dress the maid had left for me. By the time I was done, I realized I was a minute late. Panic set in, and I hurried down the stairs, my stomach grumbling and my mind tired.

When I entered the living room, Dante was sitting on the couch, his eyes fixed on the muted TV. The screen displayed news coverage of the fire that my father had caused, and a sharp pang of hurt hit me in the chest.

“You’re late,” Dante’s voice sliced through the silence, dragging me from my thoughts.

“I apologize,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dante rose to his feet with his usual imposing presence. His eyes locked onto me, and the air seemed to grow heavier. “I hate lateness,” he spat bitterly, his words cold enough to freeze me in place.

I felt my pulse quicken as he stepped closer.

The silence between us thickened as Dante’s gaze bore into me. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Sit down,” Dante finally ordered, breaking the oppressive silence.

I hesitated for a moment, but I had no choice. Slowly, I lowered myself onto the couch across from him, keeping a safe distance. I couldn’t help but notice the way the room seemed to close in around me, as if the walls themselves were trapping me here with him.

Dante leaned back, crossing his arms. His eyes never left me, as if he were waiting for me to break.

“Tell me,” he began, his voice cold but calm, “do you think you can adjust to this life? To ‘my’ life?”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing. I could feel the sting of tears building up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“I don’t have a choice,” I said quietly, though the bitterness in my voice couldn’t be ignored. “You’ve already made sure of that.”

Dante smirked. “That’s right. You don’t have a choice. You belong to me now. I own you.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, but I gritted my teeth and held my ground. I couldn’t let him see how much he affected me. I had to keep my composure, even if everything inside me screamed to run, to fight, to escape.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts. “I know my dad caused you losses, but is all of this necessary? Why can’t you just leave me alone? Why can’t I just be like your other maids?”

For a moment, his smirk faltered, and I thought I saw a flicker of something human in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He let out a sharp, derisive laugh that sent a chill down my spine.

“Isn’t it obvious to you yet?” he said, leaning forward slightly. His voice dropped to a near whisper, the menace in his tone cutting like a blade. “Your father didn’t just cause me losses, he humiliated me. And someone has to pay for that. You’re not here to scrub floors or serve drinks. No, your purpose is far more… personal.”

His lips curled into a cold, twisted smile. “You’re not like the maids. You’re here to warm my bed when I decide you will. A toy to remind me, and everyone else, that actions have consequences.”

His words hit me like a blow. My stomach churned, and bile rose in my throat.

“Why?” I managed to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Because breaking you will be far more satisfying,” he said, his tone devoid of mercy.