Chapter 5: A name that owns me

~ Avelyn ~

Sunlight filtered in through high arched windows. Pale gold. Too soft for where I expected to be.

Was I… dead?

No. Not with the pounding in my head. Not with the chill on my bare shoulders and the unfamiliar scent of vanilla and jasmine soaked into the sheets.

I blinked.

This wasn’t the dungeon my fear had painted. This was…

A room.

A massive, terrifyingly elegant room with marble floors, towering curtains, and a chandelier that looked like it cost more than my entire house growing up. The bed I was in could fit a whole basketball team. Maybe two. The walls weren’t walls, they were panels of expensive wallpaper and built-in wardrobes.

And I was… lying in the middle of it.

Fully dressed in that humiliating chiffon dress with the gold accessories still clinging to my arms and ankles like reminders. I sat up fast—dizzy. Disoriented.

Then the door opened. Two women swept in like ghosts dressed in black and white. Uniforms. Maids.

They didn’t look at me. They just moved like robots.

One began unpacking a parade of designer bags onto the chaise by the window. The other was arranging shoes in a row across the polished floor, muttering to herself about brand sorting. Boxes. Labels. Heels I couldn’t pronounce and dresses wrapped in silk like they were something sacred.

My throat went dry. I wanted to say something but—

“Your tea, miss,” one said, without meeting my eyes. She placed a steaming porcelain cup beside me on a silver tray, bowed slightly, and turned away.

I blinked again.

Me?

“Wait…” My voice cracked. “This is… for me?”

The younger maid finally met my eyes. “It’s the Master’s order,” she said simply, “to have you ready to meet him in the gardens.”

My heart stuttered.

The Master.

That’s what they called him around here.

Of course they did.

I was in his world now.

They stripped me like I was breakable porcelain, guided me into a steaming bath like I was royalty. Their hands didn’t shake. Their voices didn’t waver. Everything was calm, polished, robotic.

It should’ve been mortifying.

And at first, it was. Being bathed like a princess when all my life I’d washed in a creaky tub with cold water and chipped soap. But their fingers were gentle, and when one of them massaged my scalp with lavender oil, something in me melted.

The warmth. The silence. The quiet splashing of water.

I could pretend. Just for a second. That I was someone else.

Someone free or maybe even someone loved.

But luxury comes with a price and mine had already been paid. With my name and my freedom.

Why did this awfully remind me of the Elvans? Treated like dirt, invisible, worthless except when someone needed something. At least here I was being scrubbed and scented.

Was this better?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Wrapped in towels that were fluffier than any bed I’d slept in, I stood in front of a closet the size of my old bedroom. Three outfits were laid out. All designer. All stunning.

They gestured for me to choose.

I stared. Unsure. Then pointed at the one that looked… least like I was going to be served with a side of shame.

A white dress with soft blue floral patterns. Feminine. Simple. Not screaming auction trophy.

They nodded in approval.

I didn’t argue when they blow-dried my hair and styled it like I was meeting royalty. When they pulled out the makeup brushes, I shook my head. “No makeup. I don’t want—”

“Master only sees the best,” the head maid said, already dabbing concealer under my eyes.

I gulped. “Does your master have a name?”

No answer. Of course they wouldn’t respond.

The greenhouse looked like a dream painted in golds and greens. A glass room filled with overgrown orchids and rare roses and little hanging pots that dripped like teardrops from the ceiling.

And in the middle?A table set for two, with him in it.

He sat there like he belonged to this world more than any living thing. Legs crossed. One hand resting lazily on the table, the other cradling a teacup.

He was too composed, too clean as if control had always come naturally to him. His eyes met mine and didn’t blink.

“Sit.”

I obeyed before I realized I had.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “Do you have a name?”

He arched an eyebrow.

“Why?” he said, voice smooth as polished glass. “Already practicing how you’ll address me in the bedroom?”

I blinked.

Heat flooded my cheeks. “That’s not—what I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” He sipped his tea, unbothered. “You want a name to curse when I make you blush.”

I nearly choked on air.

“I don’t—blush.”

He didn’t argue, he just stared. Then reached into a folder on the table and slid something across to me.

A phone.

Brand new sleek one. Certainly the latest model and beside it were papers.

“You’ll need this,” he said, tapping the phone. “And this.”

My eyes scanned the papers. It was a contract.

My stomach dropped immediately.

“You’re giving me a job?”

“No.” His voice was light, but final. “I’m giving you a place. One with rules.”

I picked up the pen. My fingers trembled.

Kyle’s face flashed in my head. His laugh. His promise. The way he always told me I was worth more. A weight sank in my chest.

I bit my bottom lip without realizing it, an habit for my stress induced life.

“If I wanted to watch you bite your lip,” the man said softly, “I’d rather do it myself.”

I froze.

His eyes didn’t move and his tone didn’t change either.

“You’re to sign the papers.”

My fingers flexed around the pen.“So I have to do what you say… until when? Until you’re tired of me?”

I blinked. “I can’t sign this. I need time.”

He set his teacup down. The sound was soft but loud in the silence.

“I must’ve given you the illusion that you have a choice,” he said. “You don’t.” His voice was the kind that didn’t rise. It fell.

“From the moment you climbed that stage, the word choice was erased from your path. You already belong to me.”

I swallowed hard as I watched him rise slowly, adjusting his cuffs like it wasn’t perfectly placed already!

“But it’s your first day,” he said. “So I’ll spare you.”

Spare me? Ha. This is absurd.

He took three strides, then paused, just before the doors.

“Xander Sterling.”

My brows raised slightly.

He glanced over his shoulder. “You have the right to know who owns you.”

Then he disappeared into sunlight and glass.

I didn’t dwell on his arrogance or overbearing behavior. I took the phone, clutched the contract and left the greenhouse with my heels echoing down the hallway.

I typed in Ari’s number. The second it rang I spoke.

“Ari?” I breathed.

“Lyn?! Oh my God, Lyn! I’ve been calling you! Where have you been?! Don’t tell me it was that bitch Lilian or her demonic offspring again, just say the word and I’ll drag them bald!”

I laughed. God, I laughed. Real, belly-deep, tears-in-my-eyes laughter. Hearing her voice was like breathing after drowning.

“Why are you laughing? I’m being serious, girl have they made you loco?”

“I’m just happy to hear your voice,” I managed.

“Yeah yeah, you got me worried sick. Kyle called me, okay? The most panicked voice I’ve ever heard. I thought he was bluffing until I gave you twenty missed calls. TWENTY, Lyn!”

I blinked.

Kyle.

I wasn’t listening anymore. I was spiraling in my own head.

“He didn’t want to tell you yet, but… he’s in town.”

The world fell away. “Yay, right? I know you’re excited long-distance is hell. But you two are still making it work, right?”

No, no, no. Why is he here? He can’t be here. Not now. Not when I—

“Lyn? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“I’m a little busy,” I choked out. “I’ll call when I’m free to hang out.”

“…you sound off, babe. You can tell me anything, don’t forget that. I’ll give you a heads up Kyle said he might stop by your house today. Just warning you. So, please, work things out with him. Call me later. Bye, love.”

“Bye, love,” I whispered, then stared at the screen. The call ended and I nearly lost my balance. But a maid appeared at the door just in time.

“Breakfast is served, miss.”