CHAPTER 5: DOMAINS

ENID'S POV

The heavy slam of a door down the hall signaled Alexander’s retreat, and the following silence felt heavier than the shouting. I let out a long, shaky breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

The room was still now, furnishings feeling more like a gilded cage than ever.

I grabbed a towel from the rods, the soft cotton of the towel doing little to soothe my frayed nerves, and headed for the shower, desperate to wash the tension from my skin.

Just then a soft, deliberate knock at the door stopped me cold. It wasn't the angry pound of Alexander’s fist; this was calculated, controlled.

I walked slowly to the door, my bare feet soundless on the polished wood floor, as I twisted the handle and opened it just enough to see Rosa standing there, a portrait of severe elegance. Her expression was a mask of neutral politeness, but her eyes were sharp, assessing.

“Good morning, ma’am,” I muttered, my gaze locked on hers, refusing to look away first.

She didn’t return the greeting.

Instead, she pushed past me into the room, the scent of her expensive perfume invading my space, as she closed the door with a soft, final click and stood before me, a silent blocking my exit.

“Do you need something?” I asked, my voice tighter than I intended.

“You are Enid, correct?” Her tone was like ice, each word a precisely thrown taunt.

“Yes, I am. Do you need something?” I repeated, my irritation simmering just beneath the surface.

Who does she think she is?

She ignored my question again, her dark eyes sweeping over my room as if taking inventory. “My son is not himself this morning. What, precisely, transpired between you two?”

He isn’t?

I raised an eyebrow, a dark smirk threatening my composed facade. “He isn’t? Could have fooled me.”

“He is my son,” she stated, her focus snapping back to me with an intensity that was almost physical. “I know him better than any other person on this earth.”

My own eyes flickered over her, as I scanned her dressing. She's dressed in a severe black office wear, the sharp lines of her blazer, and the intimidating points of her heels, and with this dress code, I could tell she was heading to her office.

“We just had a little misunderstanding. Actually It’s nothing,” I said, forcing my voice into a calm, even tone I didn’t feel.

“You should not let that happen.” She took a single step forward, and the room seemed to shrink. “You are here for a purpose, Enid and It is your job to make him comfortable, to ensure this… arrangement proceeds smoothly. Are you not the husband-to-be?”

My job?

The words were a lit match thrown on the kindling of my rage.

I am not a fucking babysitter for your unfocused man-child.

I could feel my fist clenching at my side, my nails digging into my palm. I had focused on the sharp, grounding pain, using it to keep my temper in check. “Alright,” I murmured, the words barely a whisper, tasting like ash. “I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Good.” The single word was a dismissal and a command. She took two more steps into the room, her eyes continuing their cold survey. “You must understand your position here, Enid. You are a guest in my son’s home. You are a guest In my husband’s home, and You would do well to remember that all of this…” she gestured vaguely at the luxurious surroundings, “…is being done for your favor.”

My favor?

I was left speechless by her audacity.

Does this woman genuinely believe I want any part of this darn marriage?

“My favor?” I finally voiced, my tone flat, challenging her to say it again.

“Yes,” she affirmed, her gaze boring into me, utterly serious.

“We are lifting you from that… rustic Scottish farm… and introducing you to a world of true luxury and power. A world you would never have accessed on your own.”

Farm!?

The word echoed in my head, a deliberate, condescending insult.

What the hell is wrong with this people?

They saw everything as a transaction, a hierarchy. My life, my home, reduced to a quaint backwardness they could save me from.

I swallowed the bitter retort burning my tongue. “Okay, I understand. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“There are many rules in this house, and I would enumerate them, but,” she glanced at a slim diamond watch on her wrist, a flicker of impatience in her eyes, “chop, chop. I am late for work already.” She stepped back toward the door, her hand on the handle. She paused, her head tilting. “I’m sure you know what to do next.”

“What’s that?” I asked, my guard immediately back up.

“Aren’t you going to speak with Alexander?” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You are the one who pissed him off, and It is your responsibility to make it right.” A dangerous, razor-thin smile flashed across her perfectly painted lips. “His room is just opposite yours, do the right thing.” She said.

"What if I refuse?"I challenged.