Chapter 4

ELEANOR

The drive to Mr. Armando's mansion was unnervingly quiet. The chauffeur didn’t say a word, and neither did Armando’s personal guard, the same one who’d practically dragged me to the car earlier. He sat in the front seat, eyes fixed forward, barely moving except for the occasional glance in the rearview mirror.

I kept my distance from Armando, though the backseat wasn’t exactly large enough to offer much space. Every inch between us felt like it might disappear any moment, and I did everything I could to shrink into the corner. He didn’t even look at me, but that didn’t bring any comfort. His silence was heavier than anything he could have said.

We finally pulled up to the mansion, and my breath caught in my throat. The building was massive, far more than I could have ever imagined. It looked like something out of a magazine—a sprawling estate with towering gates, pristine landscaping, and large, expensive-looking windows. Marble statues decorated the lawn, and the driveway was lined with luxury cars that seemed untouched by time or weather.

How rich was this man?

Guards stood all around the property, their faces hard and unreadable. Strangely, they looked uneasy when Armando’s car pulled in, like his presence sent waves of fear through them. It was terrifying. If even these men, with their guns and hard stares, were afraid of him, what chance did I stand?

When the car stopped, Armando stepped out without acknowledging anyone. The guards all greeted him in unison, "Welcome, Mr. Armando," but he didn't give them a single glance. Not a nod, not a word. He simply walked straight toward the house, his pride and arrogance trailing behind him.

I followed behind hesitantly, still unsure of where I fit into all of this. As I got out of the car, one of the butlers rushed over to help with my luggage.

“I can carry it myself,” I said quickly, pulling my bag closer.

The butler paused, glancing toward the house before looking back at me. He didn’t say anything, but the tension in his body made it clear—refusing his help wasn’t really an option. He’d be in trouble if he didn’t do his job. I reluctantly handed him the bag, and he led the way inside.

The moment we stepped through the front door, I was hit by the overwhelming grandeur of the place. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their crystals sparkling under soft lighting. The floors were made of some kind of polished stone, and the walls were adorned with expensive art pieces that looked like they belonged in a museum.

“Everyone, out here. Now!” Armando’s voice boomed through the house, shaking me out of my thoughts. His tone was sharp, commanding, and within seconds, maids rushed out from every corner of the mansion. They moved quickly, nervously gathering in front of him.

“This is Eleanor,” he announced, his voice cold and indifferent. “She’s the new maid.”

The maids all looked at me, but I couldn’t read their expressions. Some seemed sympathetic, while others just looked tired, worn out from whatever lives they lived under this roof.

Armando turned to one of the maids. “Take her to her room.”

“Yes, sir,” the maid responded, her voice small and timid.

I followed the maid up a grand staircase, still trying to process everything. The staircase itself was a work of art—ornate railings, plush carpet, and massive paintings lining the walls. Every step I took made me more aware of the world I had been forced into. This wasn’t just wealth; it was power, control, and something much darker.

As we climbed the stairs, the maid glanced at me. “I’m Maria,” she said quietly, her tone gentle. “What’s your name?”

“Eleanor,” I whispered back.

Maria nodded, and we continued walking in silence. I couldn’t help but stare at the intricate details of the house—the gold trimmings, the marble floors, the heavy curtains that probably cost more than everything I’d ever owned in my life. This place was unreal.

Finally, we arrived at my room. It was modest compared to the rest of the house, but still nicer than anywhere I’d ever lived before. A small bed sat against one wall, a dresser on the other, and a window that overlooked the expansive garden.

Maria set my bag down near the dresser. “I’ll go get you something to eat,” she said softly, already turning to leave.

I nodded, though my stomach was too knotted with anxiety to even think about food.

* * * * * * * *

The next morning, I woke to the sound of knocking at my door. My eyes blinked open, adjusting to the light streaming through the curtains.

“Eleanor?” Maria’s voice came through the door, soft but urgent. “The boss... he’s asked to see you.”

Her words hit me like a wave of cold water. I sat up, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Why?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

Maria’s eyes met mine as she slowly opened the door. There was something in her gaze, something that unsettled me. She didn’t answer my question. “You should go quickly. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

I stood up, dread creeping into every part of me as I dressed and followed Maria down the hallway. Each step felt heavier than the last. What did he want with me now?

We stopped in front of a large, ornate door. “He’s in here,” Maria said softly, giving me a small, apologetic look before stepping aside.

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the doorknob. The weight of fear pressed down on me, but I knew I had no choice. I pushed the door open.

The room was dark, only faint traces of light slipping in through the heavy curtains. My eyes adjusted to the gloom, and that’s when I saw him—Mr. Armando, standing by the bed, half-dressed. His shirt hung open, revealing his muscled chest, and his eyes locked on me the moment I entered.

“You took your time,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

“I—” I started, but he cut me off.

“Come here,” he ordered, taking a step closer to me.

I froze. Everything in me screamed to run, to turn around and get out of that room, but I couldn’t move.

“I said, come here, Eleanor.” His voice was quieter this time, but it was filled with menace.

“I’m not doing this,” I whispered, trying to keep the fear from cracking my voice.

“What was that?” he asked, his eyebrows raising as if he hadn’t heard me right.

“I’m not doing this,” I said louder, my heart racing.

His eyes darkened, and a dangerous smirk spread across his face. “Oh, you think you have a choice? Let me remind you, Eleanor. You are mine now. And if I want you, I will have you.”

I took a step back, my breath hitching in my throat. “I won’t do this.”

The smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a cold fury. “You will break,” he said, his voice so quiet it chilled me to the bone. “I will make sure of it. You won’t last a year in this house. But I’ll enjoy every moment watching you try.”

Tears filled my eyes as his words sank in. There was no escaping him. No way out. I was trapped in his world, and he was determined to make me suffer.

“Get out of my sight,” he snapped suddenly, turning away from me.

I didn’t wait for him to say it again. I rushed out of the room, the tears spilling over as I ran down the hallway. This man—he was going to destroy me.