CHAPTER 3

Catherine woke with a start, the sound of birds chirping outside breaking through the haze of confusion in her mind. The morning light filtered through the thick curtains, harsh and unwelcome. Her head throbbed, a dull ache that seemed to match the emptiness in her chest. For a moment, she thought she might still be dreaming. The events of the previous night—the betrayal, the kiss, the whirlwind of media attention—felt surreal, too fresh, too raw to be real.

She ran a hand through her tangled hair, trying to steady herself. The room around her was unfamiliar, elegant, and far more luxurious than anything she had ever known. The furniture was sleek and modern, the polished wood floors gleamed under the light, and the chandelier hanging above the bed was dazzling, casting soft reflections across the room. Everything about the space felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else.

Her pulse quickened as the memories of last night returned in flashes. The car ride, the man who had saved her, his commanding presence, and then—Lucius. She remembered his name clearly now, even if it didn’t seem to make any sense. He was powerful, wealthy, and had taken her in without hesitation. But why? She wasn’t part of his world. She had never asked for any of this.

Before she could sink further into her thoughts, there was a soft knock at the door. Catherine barely registered the sound as her mind was still caught in a whirlwind of confusion. But the door creaked open, and a woman entered, holding a tray with a steaming cup of tea.

“Good morning,” the woman said with a gentle smile, setting the tray down beside Catherine. “I’ve brought you some tea to help with your headache.”

Catherine looked up, her gaze still unfocused, and tried to form words, but her throat felt dry. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“You’re in Mr. Ravenswood’s mansion,” the woman replied softly. “He brought you here last night after everything that happened. You were in a bad state. He didn’t want to leave you alone.”

Catherine blinked, processing the information. She was in Lucius’s house. The man who had rescued her. The man who had just kissed her, as if she were someone he had known forever. The man who had made his intentions clear, but also left her with a sense of unease. Catherine couldn’t shake the nagging question: why? Why had he brought her here?

The woman—Windy, she had introduced herself as—watched her carefully, as though she understood the confusion Catherine was experiencing.

“You’ve been through a lot, Miss Naomi,” Windy continued. “Mr. Ravenswood insisted you rest. He’s been very kind to you.”

Catherine nodded, though her mind was far from the comfort the woman offered. “I don’t remember much,” she murmured, her fingers lightly touching the edge of the cup. “How did I end up here?”

“You were in danger,” Windy explained. “Mr. Ravenswood found you on the street. He didn’t want to leave you out there alone. He made sure you were taken care of.”

Catherine’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t realized how much she had relied on Lucius until now. She had been in danger, and he had appeared without question, without hesitation. She should have been grateful, but instead, a thousand questions swirled in her mind. Who was this man really? What did he want from her?

Before she could voice her concerns, the door opened again. This time, Lucius stepped into the room, his tall figure filling the doorway. His presence was commanding, and even though he said nothing, his gaze fixed on Catherine as though he were studying her.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was smooth, but there was an underlying tension in the air. It wasn’t just concern that he was showing—it was something more.

Catherine opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. How was she supposed to feel? She was in his mansion, his house, a stranger to this world. She was no one here. Yet, his eyes made her feel like she wasn’t invisible.

“I’m... fine,” she finally said, her voice shaking just slightly. “But why am I here? What do you want from me?”

Lucius stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “You’re here because I chose to help you,” he said simply, as though the answer should have been obvious. “You were in danger, and I didn’t want to leave you out there. But I’ll be honest, there’s more to this.”

Catherine looked at him, trying to read the expression on his face. She had been through so much already, but something in his eyes made her feel like she was standing on the edge of something far bigger. She wasn’t just a victim of circumstance anymore—she was caught up in something she didn’t understand.

He paused, then continued, “Your stepfather owes me a significant amount of money. He made an agreement with me. And part of that agreement was that you would be taken care of.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I’m offering you a choice, Catherine. Stay here, live in safety, or leave, and your stepfather will pay the price for breaking his deal.”

Catherine’s heart skipped a beat. “You… you bought me? Like some kind of deal?” Her voice cracked with disbelief.

Lucius’s eyes remained cold, though there was a hint of something softer there. “Not exactly,” he said. “But your stepfather did agree to let me take responsibility for you in exchange for clearing his debt. You were the collateral in his deal, but you have the option to make your own choices now. The question is, what will you do with the opportunity I’m giving you?”

Catherine felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She was a pawn in someone else’s game, and the worst part was, she had no choice but to play along. She didn’t want to be part of Lucius’s plan, yet here she was, tangled in a web of circumstances she couldn’t control.

“Three days,” Lucius added, his voice firm. “Take your time to think. But after that, things will change. And you won’t have the luxury of making decisions anymore.”

With that, Lucius turned and left the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway. Catherine sat there, staring at the contract in her hands, the weight of his words pressing down on her.