CHAPTER 8

SAOIRSE.

The mirror didn't lie — it showed me exactly what I hated: hated the way it made me feel exposed, vulnerable. This outfit is too tight across my hips and chest. It screamed weakness, submission. A cage of black lace and starched cotton that mocked my every curve. 

This is nothing but a sole reminder of what I’m going to be, the chains that I had no choice but to carry, willingly, foolishly. I haven't even lasted here for a day yet the walls felt like they were closing in. 

But I knew there was no time for self-pity. With a sharp exhale, I turned toward the door, my heart pounding a rhythm that echoed inside my chest. As I descended the grand staircase, the polished marble cool beneath my feet, a figure was already waiting at the very bottom. It was Zeus. 

He appeared at the base of the staircase, tall and imposing in a tailored suit that hugged his broad shoulders. His dark hair was tousled, eyes like storm clouds. He stood there, arms crossed, his gaze drifting lazily over the place — until it landed on me.

“Good morning, Saoirse,” he said, his voice a low rumble. He said it so casually as if we were old acquaintances sharing coffee. 

I forced a nod, despite the tremor in my chest. A shiver skated down my spine, my survivor instincts screaming to flee, yet my feet carried me forward.

I made my way down the stairs, my hands on the handrail trembling. I looked away as if I hadn't noticed his eyes, his eyes that…lingered too long.

I stood awkwardly in front of him. He tilted his head, a faint smile playing at his lips as he looked at me from head to toe. 

“You look…ravishing, little fox.”

“What? Is this your first time seeing someone dressed in this outfit?” I asked, sarcastically, almost rolling my eyes. 

“What a sharp tongue you have there, huh? Be careful, little fox,” he murmured, “Because in here, I get to decide whether bold mouths are useful — or not. You got that?”

I cleared my throat, forcing my eyes from his suffocating stare, the kind that pinned souls in their wake. I flashed a daring smile but fake, I mocked him right back, daring the king to break first. “What can I do for you, sir?”

“First. Coffee. Black. In my study.” It wasn't a request, it was a test, probing the boundaries I’d drawn around myself. 

I bit my lower lip. I hesitated, my mind racing. Because I knew if I refused, I would risk his wrath. But if I obey, I would surrender another piece of my autonomy, which I loathe for him to have. 

However, in the end, survival won, like it always does — I nodded and walked past him, retreating to the kitchen. Another maid, bustled in, her eyes were strong but at the same time kind, as if she'd seen centuries of how dark this place was but still survived.

“Are you okay? Saoirse, right?” She poured water into the kettle, her voice soft, grounding. “First day jitters?”

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Just…adjusting.” But inside is just the opposite, my emotions churned in humiliation.

“Well then, I guess you have a lot of adjusting to do…” She said, chuckling mid-sentence. “It might take you a little while.” 

“How–How long have you been here?” I couldn't help but to ask. “Were you…taken as well?”

It took her a while to reply as if she's hesitating to answer my question, then she let out a reserved smile. 

“I wasn't here out of fear.” She said as she poured the hot water into the cup. “Now, be quick. Bring it to his room while it’s still hot. That man despises waiting.”

“Thank you…” 

“Annalise. It was pleasant to meet you, Saoirse.”

“Thank you, Annalise.”

The coffee brewed, steam curling. I nodded and carried the tray to his study, the door ajar. The room was dominated by towering bookshelves and a massive black desk, Zeus's presence filled every corner. He lounged in a leather chair, watching me pour the steaming brew.

His gaze followed my movements, a silent command that forced me to lean closer than necessary, the heat of his body brushing against mine as I set the cup down.

My hands steady despite the tremor in my core. “Your coffee, sir. Would that be all?”

“Sit.” he commanded, gesturing to a chair opposite him.

I hesitated, conflicting whether to follow and survive, or defy him and risk everything. The subtle danger in his tone warned me: push, and he'd push back harder.

“I’m afraid I have work to do, sir.” I said, my voice even, but my heart pounded.

“And your work is to obey me, is it not?” His lips curved, a merciless smile. “I have an order. Sit.”

I swallowed the boiling anger in my throat, knuckles turning white, as I sat slowly, the chair creaking under me. 

The atmosphere thickened, heavy with his scent and smoke. He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, power dynamics shifting as he invaded my space.

“Tell me, Saoirse. What do you think of my home?”

“You call this a home?” I blurted. “You mean the cage you've built to trap and ridicule people?”

“Cages keep things safe.” His eyes darkened, amusement flickering. “Protected.”

“Protected from what?” I challenged, my survivor instincts flaring. 

“From themselves.” He sipped his coffee, gaze never leaving mine. Unspoken tension hung between us.

What is he talking about? I almost rolled my eyes at him. I’m not here to listen to his riddles. If he had so much time to waste, well good for him. I don’t.

I stood abruptly. “If that's all, sir. I’m leaving.”

“Mm. Wander the halls if you must, but stay out of places that don't concern you. You may leave.”  

But the day demanded more. Upstairs, on the third floor, a dimly lit corridor stretched like a forgotten vein in the house. Dust motes danced in the weak light as I dusted the gold structures. And golden vases that gleamed with wealth worth more than my life's salary and savings combined. Strangely enough, I haven’t seen a single photo of his family displayed on the walls, not even his.

My hands moved mechanically, but my mind wandered, replaying Annalise's words.

What does she mean she wasn't here out of fear? Who in their right mind would stay in a suffocating place like this? And who in their right mind would serve a monster like him, willingly?

My elbow brushed against a bookshelf, innocuous at first glance, its shelves crammed with leather-bound tomes. A carved eagle's eye caught my attention—a detail too intricate, too lifelike. Curiosity, that treacherous thief, made me press it. A soft click echoed, I initially took a step back when the wall began to tremble and to my surprise the bookshelf slid open like a secret exhaling.

The chamber beyond was a revelation, a sanctuary of shadows draped in crimson velvet and black silk. Restraints bolted to stone, whips and toys on cushions, mirrors reflecting every shadow. A sanctuary of indulgence, Zeus's wild fantasies laid bare. My cheeks burned, mortification flooding me. Erotic artifacts whispered of his cravings — chains, feathers, things that promised pain and pleasure.

My feet are the ones who carried me inside, drawn by a pull I couldn't name. Curiosity, merciless and stupid, urged me deeper. 

My fingers grazed a velvet cushion, heart pounding. What kind of man — no monster needed this? The question twisted in my gut, awakening something primal, a flicker of heat, confusion, a dark thrill I couldn't figure out. 

Zeus indulged in far from the world's prying eyes. This was his world, wild and unapologetic, a place where innocence shattered against indulgence.

Shock and unexplainable heat rooted me in place. I shouldn't be here…I shouldn't see this. Yet, as I backed away, my foot caught on a silk pillow, sending me stumbling. 

“Shit! No! No! No!” The door began to seal with a whisper, but before it could, a figure filled the frame.

Zeus leaned against the jamb, his expression a mask of amusement laced with warning. 

“I thought we'd clearly discussed boundaries.” 

His tone was light, but his eyes darkened, a predator's gleam that promised consequences. I froze, my heart hammering, I couldn't even talk, words eluded me. The chamber's secrets hang between us like a noose. 

“I–I was cleaning the–the bookshelf, and…and it just opened by itself. I swear I–I didn't mean to stumble inside…”

“Lie better.” He stepped closer, the air thickening with unspoken tension, his gaze stripping me bare. 

At that moment, I saw the monster beneath the man, the one I’d glimpsed in the Nexus, and questioned everything. Was he the devil I'd feared, or something more dangerous, more alluring?

He didn't touch me, didn't need to. His presence alone ignited a spark, a forbidden curiosity that clashed with my hatred, planting seeds of something treacherous. Attraction? No. I couldn't. Yet, as he ushered me out with a final, lingering look, I felt the shift. A vulnerability cracking open, my survivor instincts warring with the humiliation of servitude.

“Leave. You shouldn't be here.” 

“W–Why?” My voice trembled, emotions swirling — that inexplicable awakening, a pull toward the darkness.

I pulled away, but the damage was done. Something stirred inside, forbidden and intense, complicating everything. 

My body betrayed me, a flush of heat spreading, my breath quickening, not just fear, but a twisted intrigue, a hunger I didn't recognize. What–What was this? It's like a dormant fire igniting, leaving me questioning my own desires in the face of his darkness.

“Because, darling...” His hand raised my chin, his gaze penetrating through my soul. “It awakens innocent things it shouldn't.”