VIOLET I stood by the kitchen island, The window before me framed nothing but shadows, a view I wasn’t even really seeing, I was just there, trying to breathe. The moment I stepped into the kitchen, the maids scattered except Margaret. She approached gently, the only warm presence in this house that hadn’t made me feel like an intruder. “Do you need anything, ma’am? Something special you will like us to make?” she asked, her voice soft, lace with real concern.She had quietly taken me under her wing, told me things I suspected she wasn’t allowed to share , whispered truths about this family and their ways. There was something maternal about her, something that reminded me of my mother. I missed my mother, even though I was still angry with her and still ignored her calls, I miss her. “I’m fine,” I said, barely a whisper. “Just need a little air, I will head back soon.” She nod, not prying, and slip out quietly. I pick up my phone, already dialing. There was only one person whose
Violet When Stefan said “family dinner,” I pictured an intimate evening him, his grandmother, his mother, me and a few family members. Quiet and tense maybe, but manageable. What I walked into was nothing of such, the dining room was re- decorated and it stretch endlessly to accommodate this much people, the mahogany shining table , set with crystal glasses and gold-trimmed plates. Thirty people, maybe more, Elegant, cold-faced strangers with piercing eyes that followed me like I was the night’s entertainment. A glittering chandelier overhead bathed everyone in a soft golden light, but nothing about the room felt warm. His grandmother sat at the head of the table like a reigning monarch, stone faced and perfectly poised. Stefan walked calmly to the other end, sat without a word, and gestured for me to take the seat beside him. My heels clicked too loud against the marble floor, and every movement felt like it echoed in judgment. I had barely taken my seat when her voice, laced w
Violet Just like he promised, my old clothes vanished without a trace. In their place arrived an entire wardrobe of expensive dresses that scream of wealth, louder than my entire year’s salary ever could. Silks, chiffons, velvets , colors so rich they could melt into wine. Designs I used to only sketch or pin onto mannequins now they belonged to me. My clothes for the dinner were delivered to me by Nora, a rich emerald satin dress, the dress hugged me like it had been stitched for my very skin. The off shoulder neckline framed my collarbones with elegance, while delicate beading across the corset bodice caught the light in the room. It gripped me in perfectly, sculpting my waist before spilling into silky drapes that gather around my hips. And then, there was the high slit , bold,sliding up my leg daring anyone to look away. I glanced down at my heels, nude, barely delicate straps sandals. Simple but intentional. My makeup was minimal, I stood before the mirror and for a long mo
Violet Since I got back on my feet, I have barely touched a single thing in this house because I’m not allowed to. There’s a maid for every chore, my only responsibility, apparently, is to wake up, bathe, and wander around a house so large it feels like a labyrinth designed to swallow me whole. I’m still trying to map out the second floor, there is a third and a fourth. And a basement level that, from what I gather, is off limits to everyone but my husband as if it holds the secrets of his empire. Everything around me screams wealth, loud and cold wealth. The kitchen alone is as big as the entire flat I used to live in. Margaret, the housekeeper, keeps me updated like a loyal assistant, listing off household schedules like I’m some clueless heiress. When I am not bored to death, I bury myself in the in house cinema or float in the second floor pool. There are two pools in this mansion, Two!!. I don’t even want to think about the car collection parked below, each one shinier than th
StefanIt’s been three excruciating weeks since my wife was shot three weeks of silence, rage, and dead ends. No leads, no names, just shadows. Whoever sent those bastards to kill her vanished like smoke, and I’ve been breathing in nothing but fury ever since. The entire house walks on glass. One wrong word, one misplaced glance, and I pull the trigger without remorse. Even my grandmother, who once dared slap me as a boy, now treads lightly, my mother avoids me like i am a plague.They all keep their distance to survive.And me, I have been keeping my distance from my house for a different reason , from her.She’s healing now, strong enough to walk, to breathe without help, to glare at me like I am the enemy. But I haven’t stepped foot in that house since the night I cleaned her myself. That night, everything shifted, It’s supposed to be Nora’s duty to tend to her, wash her but I needed her to see that I am the one in control. Funny thing is now I’m the one running.Her body, her bod
Violet Just as the maid stepped out, he walk in. He didn’t glance my way, no words, no emotions. Just silent, calculated steps across the room , he move like a predator who owned every inch of the space around him. He disappeared into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon filled the silence, he stayed there for what felt like forever. I tried to calm my thoughts, but how could I, knowing the man responsible for both my protection and pain was only a wall away?When he returned, a white towel hung low on his hips, water glistening on his sculpted chest and rolling down to disappear beneath the towel. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and his lips jeez, his lips looked soft, pink, and cruel. Tattoos curled across his back like dark secrets, and one on his arm matches the ancient symbol framed above the bed a reminder of the bloodline I had been chained to.I didn’t mean to stare but I couldn’t look away either.I’ve seen beautiful men, but Stefan, Stefan wasn’t beautifu