Chapter 11- The lustful man

I stared at William, stunned by his words.

"This is our room from today."

The sentence echoed in my head like a warning bell.

I folded my arms, trying to steady my voice. “But I want a separate room. I can’t share a space with you.”

William didn’t look up from his magazine. He flipped a page, calm and unbothered, as if I hadn’t spoken at all.

I cleared my throat loudly. “William, did you hear me?”

Finally, he looked up. His eyes were cold and unreadable. “Do you have another option?”

That question knocked the breath out of me. I hated that he was right. I didn’t have another option—not right now. My pride wanted to protest, but my situation didn’t allow it.

Trying to compose myself, I said, “Don’t you think your fiancée would mind? If she knew I was sharing a room with you, wouldn’t she question it?”

William raised an eyebrow, a small, cynical smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I think you didn’t read the contract thoroughly. It clearly stated that my personal life is none of your business. You’re here to carry the baby. That’s it.”

I clenched my fists, trying to stay calm. “And after the delivery? You expect me to walk out the next day like nothing happened?”

He set the magazine aside and leaned forward slightly. “Yes. That’s exactly what the contract says. You give birth, and you leave.”

“That’s inhumane,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “You can’t just rip a baby from its mother. I need time to recover, to feed and nurture the child. At least give me a month.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then gave a single nod. “Fine. One month. But you are not allowed to see the baby afterward. That part of the contract stays.”

A dull ache formed in my chest. I had agreed to this madness, but the reality was far more painful than I had imagined.

I nodded slowly. “I understand.”

Silence settled between us like a heavy fog. William returned to his magazine, and I sat on the edge of the bed, numb. The room felt suffocating now, the soft lighting and lavish décor mocking my helplessness.

I didn’t know when I fell asleep. Perhaps my body, exhausted by emotional chaos, shut down to protect me.

When I woke up, the room was dim. The soft ticking of the antique clock on the wall reminded me that time hadn’t paused, even if my life had.

A faint sound caught my attention. I sat up, my senses alert. From the hallway, I could hear soft voices. Curious, I crept to the door and opened it just enough to peek through.

In the living room, I saw Natasha. She was dressed elegantly in a silk dress, sitting beside William, who looked as poised and indifferent as always. She was laughing at something he said, her hand casually resting on his.

I bit my lip, hard. Jealousy flared in my chest, but it wasn’t just that. It was betrayal, confusion, a deep-rooted pain I couldn’t explain. I considered walking in, confronting both of them. But then I remembered the contract—the power imbalance.

I shut the door quietly and leaned against it. My legs trembled beneath me.

“Why am I here? Why did I agree to this?” I whispered to myself.

William had once been different. Or maybe I had been too blind to see who he really was. Back in college, he had seemed like a man of integrity. I still remembered the night of the farewell party—the night everything changed.

The image of Natasha answering his door, wearing his shirt, was seared into my memory like a scar.

I blinked away the memories and walked to the small table near the window. Lunch had been brought in. I hadn’t eaten in hours—maybe more. I washed my hands and started eating slowly, trying to ignore the voices from the hallway.

A knock broke my concentration.

“Yes?” I called.

“Lily ma’am, may I come in?” a soft voice asked.

I opened the door slightly. It was a young woman in a plain uniform. She looked to be in her early twenties, with soft features and a carefully composed smile.

“Yes, come in.”

She stepped inside and folded her hands. “Sir has assigned me as your caretaker. If you need anything, please let me know.”

I studied her face. There was a calmness in her expression, but something about her didn’t sit right with me. Still, I needed help. “Alright,” I said cautiously.

“I’ve prepared some juice for you,” she said. “It’s good for your health.”

“Is it sour?”

She smiled. “No, ma’am. It’s sweet and filled with nutrients.”

I took the glass from her and thanked her. As she began tidying the room, I asked, “How long have you worked for William?”

“Three to four years,” she replied.

“And did he hire you for this job specifically? Or something else?”

She paused, then straightened. “I’m here to take care of you. That’s all that matters.”

Her answer was rehearsed. Polite, but firm. I didn’t like it.

“You can leave now,” I said.

She nodded and exited quietly.

Later that evening, the mansion grew quieter. I decided to explore. Sitting in the same room felt like slow death.

I walked through the wide corridor, marveling at the expensive paintings and the faint scent of polished wood. But just as I turned toward a staircase leading upward, a servant appeared.

“Ma’am, you’re not allowed to go there,” he said quickly.

“Why?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Sir’s instructions. That part of the house is restricted.”

My curiosity flared. “What is he hiding up there?”

“Please, ma’am. I’m just following orders.”

Before I could say more, the caretaker appeared again.

“Ma’am, it’s not safe. That area is for private matters. Sir and Madam… they…”

She trailed off, as if realizing she’d said too much.

“Madam?” I repeated, frowning.

“Natasha,” she clarified softly.

My chest tightened.

“So William and Natasha… are together?” I asked.

The caretaker lowered her head.

I didn’t wait to hear more. I walked back to my room slowly, every step heavier than the last.

Inside, I sat on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. My hands rested instinctively on my belly.

But my thoughts were far, far away.

Why had I trusted William? Why had I let my emotions cloud my judgment? I should never have agreed to this. I should have walked away.

I lay down and closed my eyes, trying to shut the world out.

Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow, I will start finding a way out. I’m not going to be anyone’s pawn anymore.

Sleep came eventually.

Not because I was at peace—

But because I was too exhausted to feel anything else.