CHAPTER 3: Spending the week

Exactly 20 minutes later, like Liam said, a driver came to pick me up. I had no idea where I was going. Liam hadn’t told me anything when I left—he just nodded at the driver, dismissing me without a word.

I hated this. Being tossed around like I had no say, no control over my own life. It was like I was some kind of puppet, incapable of making my own decisions.

When will I ever have my freedom?

Leaning against the car door, I stared out the window, trying to distract myself. The city’s nightlife passed by in bright lights and shadows. For a moment, I remembered when I could go out freely, laughing and dancing on weekends with my best friend, Kate. God, I missed her. Back in college, she was my person—my go-to for everything. It would be nice to talk to her again.

The driver hadn’t said a word since we started the trip. It had been about 30 minutes now, and the silence was starting to get to me. I couldn’t help but ask.

“How long till we get there?” I said, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“We still have about 30 minutes to go. You can rest a bit; I’ll wake you when we get there,” he said with a small smile.

I sighed. Another 30 minutes. At least he was talking to me now.

“Um... where are we going exactly? And why didn’t Liam come with us?” I decided to push the conversation further. My nerves were really starting to get the better of me.

“You’ll know when we get there, ma’am,” he replied calmly. “And I don’t work for your husband. My boss asked me to pick just you, so he can’t come along.”

His boss? My stomach tightened. Who was this boss, and what did they want with me? This answer didn’t calm my nerves like I’d hoped—it made me even more anxious.

I wanted to ask more questions, but the look on his face told me he wasn’t going to say anything else.

So, I nodded and turned back to stare out the window. Who is this boss? What do they want with me? Will Liam come later?

Liam knew the answers to all these questions, but of course, the scumbag preferred to keep me clueless.

The car slowed as we approached a tall, modern building with sleek glass windows that shimmered under the city lights. My heart thudded harder with each second, unsure of what to expect.

“We’re here, ma’am,” the driver announced, pulling up to the entrance. A valet immediately stepped forward, opening my door.

I hesitated before stepping out, my eyes scanning the towering structure before me. The entrance was grand, with polished floors and warm lighting spilling out from inside. It looked far too elegant and expensive, definitely not a place I’d expected to end up tonight.

“This way,” the driver said, gesturing toward the elevator. I followed him, my duffle bag clutched tightly in my hand.

The elevator ride felt endless, even though it barely took a minute. A soft chime announced our arrival at the top floor. When the doors slid open, I was greeted by the sight of a spacious penthouse, its floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

The interior was immaculate—plush white couches, a marble kitchen island, and dim lighting that gave the space an air of quiet luxury. It was beautiful, yet cold, like a picture-perfect room with no soul.

“This is where you’ll be staying,” the driver said, stepping aside as if to present the space.

I walked in slowly, my shoes sinking into the soft carpet. I didn’t belong here, that much was clear. My gaze wandered, taking in the pristine furniture and the silence that hung heavy in the air.

“Someone will be here shortly to explain everything,” the driver added before turning and leaving without another word.

As the door clicked shut behind him, I stood frozen, unsure of what was waiting for me in this unfamiliar, intimidating place.

Suddenly, I heard the door open. I turned to see a middle-aged woman walk in. She looked like she was in her 50s, with shoulder-length blonde hair and a neat appearance. She was dressed entirely in black.

“Good evening, Mrs. Anya. I’m Cassie, and I oversee the activities here,” she said, walking toward me.

“Oh… you’re the boss?” I asked hesitantly.

“No, I’m not. You can think of me as a butler,” she replied with a kind smile. “The boss isn’t here at the moment, but I’ll show you to your room. It’s late, and you must be exhausted.” She gestured toward the stairs and started walking. I followed her.

“Oh… would you like something to eat?” she asked, pausing halfway up the stairs to look back at me.

“No, I already had dinner,” I answered. She nodded and continued up.

We passed two doors before she stopped in front of the third one and opened it.

“This will be your room. I’ll show you around tomorrow,” she said, stepping aside to let me in.

I walked in and paused. The room was sleek and luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of the city lights. The bed, dressed in crisp white sheets, had a soft gray headboard that matched the modern décor. A glass desk sat in the corner, and a plush rug covered the hardwood floor, making the space feel warm yet sophisticated.

Dropping my bag on the floor, I took another look around, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the elegance.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave,” she said with a polite smile, ready to turn and leave.

“Wait,” I called out. “Are you staying in the house?”

I didn’t want to be left alone, and knowing she was around would help me feel calmer.

“Yes, let me know if you need anything” she said walking out, shutting the door behind her 

I layed on the bed, my mind racing with questions from earlier. Glancing at the time it really was already late. 10:00 pm. Even though I was extremely tired, my rib hurting and pain in my throat, I knew that there was know way I would get any sleep. I was way too anxious for that 

And like I guessed, I couldn’t sleep. Lying on my side, I stared at the faint light slipping through the small gap in the curtains. My mind raced, unsure of what to do or think. With a sigh, I sat up in bed, stretching my stiff limbs. A quiet knock at the door startled me.

“Mrs. Anya, breakfast is ready,” Cassie’s soft voice called from the other side.

“Coming,” I replied, quickly smoothing down my hair. I changed into a modest dress and headed downstairs.

The dining area was as grand as the rest of the penthouse, the table set with plates of food that looked like they belonged in a five-star restaurant. Cassie stood to the side, and next to her was a tall man, impeccably dressed in a crisp black shirt and slacks.

I froze when I recognized him.

Kane.

My breath hitched. Memories flooded back—our late-night talks, the laughter, the promises we never kept. He looked different now—sharper, colder, with an air of authority that was intimidating.

His dark eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in them. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a hardened glare.

“Kane?” I whispered, my voice trembling with shock.

“Mrs. Anya,” he said, his tone cold as ice. He emphasized the title, making it sting. “It’s been a long time.”

“What… what are you doing here?” I managed to ask, my voice shaky.

He smirked, but it was bitter, lacking any warmth. “This is my penthouse.”

The ground felt like it had shifted beneath me. How could it be him?

“Sit,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. I obeyed, my mind spinning with questions and dread.

He leaned back in his chair, watching me like a predator sizing up its prey. “Funny, isn’t it? Life has a strange way of bringing people back together. I never thought I’d see you again, Anya. Especially not like this.”

“Like what?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk deepened, but his eyes remained cold. “You don’t know why you’re here, do you?”

I shook my head hesitantly, and he chuckled, the sound chilling.

“Your husband and I made a little agreement,” he said, his tone mocking. “Liam offered you to me to settle half of his loan. For the next week, you’re mine—to do as I please with.”

My stomach dropped, and my hands clenched in my lap. “That’s not possible,” I whispered, shaking my head. “He wouldn’t.”

Liam was a scumbag—manipulative, possessive, and abusive—but he hated me being around other men. He once beat me senseless just for shaking someone’s hand. The thought of him offering me to Kane like some borrowed item didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be true.

“He wouldn’t?” Kane’s voice was laced with sarcasm. “Does Mrs. Ross think her loving husband couldn’t possibly trade her to pay off his debts?” He laughed, the sound sharp and cruel.

“Do you really think Liam cares about anything other than himself?”

Tears threatened to spill, but I refused to let them fall. “Why would you agree to this?” I asked, my voice breaking.

Kane leaned forward, his piercing gaze locking onto mine. “Because, Anya, I wanted to see how far you’ve fallen. And because if it wasn’t me, he’d have found someone else.”

“How could I let someone else have my Anya, hmm?” he said with a mocking smile that made my heart ache.

His words cut deep, the weight of his anger and resentment crushing me. He wasn’t the boy I once knew. The man before me was someone else entirely, someone who wanted to see me broken.

The room was silent except for the steady ticking of the clock. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing. I had no idea how I would survive the next week, but one thing was clear

Kane wanted revenge.