Chapter4Three Days Later

Three days passed—neither long nor short.

Tanya Reed stood beside her bed, staring at the wedding dress laid out before her. Ivory silk. Hand-stitched lace. Exquisite in every detail.

Her fingers brushed lightly over the fabric, but instead of excitement, a dull ache settled in her chest.

A wedding dress.Marriage.

It was something most women dreamed of.

Yet the man she was about to marry was a complete stranger.

“Tanya, the Eastwood family has arrived.”

The maid’s voice came from outside the door—flat, emotionless.

Tanya startled slightly, then clenched her cold hands together and replied evenly,

“I’ll be right down.”

Downstairs, Mr. Ward, the Eastwood family’s senior butler, shifted his weight impatiently. Vivian Ross’s endless chatter buzzed in his ears as he checked his watch again.

Noticing his impatience, Vivian smiled quickly.

“You know how young women are—getting ready always takes time. Mary, go remind Miss Reed. We shouldn’t keep our guests waiting.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the maid answered, turning toward the stairs—

And then froze.

Tanya was already there.

Dressed in her wedding gown, she stood quietly at the top of the staircase, clear eyes fixed on the scene below.

For a moment, Mr. Ward was genuinely taken aback.

She was striking.

Pure, elegant—like a white lily in full bloom.

But the thought of what awaited her next made him sigh inwardly.

Vivian hurried forward, ready to perform her role as the loving stepmother, but Tanya walked past her without a glance.

She looked directly at Mr. Ward.

“We can go now,” she said calmly.

Up close, Mr. Ward realized she wasn’t just beautiful—there was composure in her bearing, a quiet grace.

If only Leonard could let go of his hatred…

The thought faded as quickly as it came.

Mr. Ward gave her a small nod and led her out of the Reed residence.

The sunlight outside was blinding.

Tanya squinted slightly—and as expected, there was no wedding procession. No celebration. No guests.

Only a black Rolls-Royce waiting silently at the curb.

She let out a faint, self-mocking smile, gathered her skirt, and climbed into the car without a word.

Half an hour later, the vehicle entered a private estate nestled halfway up the hills.

The manor was vast. Imposing. Its presence alone made Tanya instinctively hold her breath.

The Reed family was wealthy—but compared to the Eastwoods, they were insignificant.

No wonder Vivian had been so eager to please even a butler.

Once inside, Mr. Ward led Tanya through the house. The staff greeted him with deep respect—yet not a single glance was spared for her.

At the end of the second-floor corridor, he opened a door.

“This will be your room, Mrs. Eastwood,” he said gently.

“Please rest here for now.”

Tanya nodded and stepped inside.

She glanced around the room, then turned back.

“Thank you. May I ask—”

Bang.

The door slammed shut before she could finish.

A sharp click followed—the sound of a lock engaging from the outside.

“Lily, what are you doing?” Mr. Ward asked, startled.

“Mr. Eastwood’s orders,” the maid replied cheerfully.

“She’s to stay in the room. No going anywhere.”

She pocketed the key and turned to leave.

“You—” Mr. Ward hesitated. “This isn’t—”

But he stopped himself.

Inside the room, Tanya froze.

Then it hit her.

She had been confined.

Rushing to the door, she pounded on it angrily.

“Let me out! You have no right to lock me in here—this is illegal!”

A voice outside scoffed.

“In this house, Mr. Eastwood is the law. Don’t waste your strength. Without his permission, no one will open that door.”

Footsteps faded away.

They were gone.

Tanya slid down against the door, wrapping her arms around her knees.

What kind of man was Leonard Eastwood?

This was their first night as husband and wife—and he treated her like this?

Was he some kind of psychopath?

Her future felt terrifyingly uncertain.

Lost in chaotic thoughts, she eventually drifted into uneasy sleep on the cold floor.

That night, the sound of an engine outside jolted her awake.

She rushed to the window, wiping sleep from her eyes, trying to see through the dim lights below.

She could only make out a tall, imposing silhouette stepping out of a car.

For some reason—

The figure felt familiar.

Her heart skipped.

…Was that Leonard Eastwood?