Chapter two- Surviving the beasts

Amelia POV

 

The knock on the door startled me awake. For a brief moment, I had forgotten where I was—forgotten the weight of the ring on my finger and the cold reality of my new life. But the moment was fleeting. The knock came again, louder this time, and I knew I couldn’t ignore it.

 

Dragging myself out of bed, I opened the door to find a maid standing there, her expression unreadable.

 

“Mrs. Cole,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “Mr. Cole has instructed me to have you pack your things and move into his room.”

 

The blood drained from my face. His room? The thought of sharing a space with Maxwell sent shivers down my spine.

 

My mind raced back to the nickname Lisa had so gleefully thrown around—the Beast of Cole Industries. The fear coiled in my stomach like a living thing. What if he lost his temper? What if he decided to harm me? What if he decided I was no longer useful to me and killed me? Would anyone care if he did?

 

Then it hit me, “Why would anyone care if I’m alive or not! I’m invincible to everyone around me”.

 

“Mrs. Cole?” the maid prompted, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.

 

“I—yes, of course,” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

 

The maid nodded and stepped aside, waiting for me to gather my things. My hands trembled as I packed, the oppressive silence of the mansion pressing down on me. I told myself that I could handle this. I had endured worse. This was nothing.

 

But as I followed the maid down the long, winding corridors to Maxwell’s room, my resolve wavered.

 

When we finally arrived, the room was empty.

 

“Where is Mr. Cole?” I asked, relief flooding me despite my trepidation.

 

“Gone to work,” the maid replied simply, her tone brisk. “He leaves very early. Mr. Cole does not joke about his work, not even when he’s unwell.”

 

I nodded, a part of me grateful for his absence. Perhaps this would give me time to adjust—if such a thing was even possible.

 

The maid excused herself, mentioning that she had to prepare breakfast for Rebecca. I watched her go, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease ever so slightly. But my reprieve was short-lived.

 

Minutes later, another knock came at the door. This time, it was a different maid.

 

“Mrs. Cole,” she said, her tone more formal, “Mrs. Rebecca has requested your presence downstairs.”

 

My heart sank. Maxwell’s mother.

 

The memory of her cold greeting the night before was still fresh in my mind. Her icy demeanor, the way her eyes had scanned me like I was something she’d scraped off her shoe—it all came rushing back.

 

I wanted to refuse, to hide away in this unfamiliar room and avoid her altogether. But I knew better. Rebecca Cole was not a woman to be kept waiting.

 

I turned to the mirror, hastily adjusting my appearance. The makeup I’d stolen from Lisa sat on the dresser, and I quickly dabbed some on, hoping to hide the tired lines on my face. Maybe if I looked presentable, Rebecca would treat me with a shred of kindness.

 

I said a quick prayer before leaving the room.

 

When I entered the grand living room, Rebecca was already seated, her posture rigid and her expression severe. She turned to me, her piercing eyes scanning me from head to toe, just as she had the night before.

 

“So,” she said, her voice cold and sharp, “this is what my son has chosen. Or rather, what he has been forced into.”

 

Her words were like a slap to the face.

 

“I—I’m sorry if I’ve done something to offend you,” I managed to say, my voice shaking.

 

Rebecca’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Offend me? No, my dear. You’ve done nothing but exist, and that’s offense enough.”

 

I flinched, her words cutting deep as they reminded me of Margaret’s cruel words.

 

“You,” she continued, her tone dripping with disdain, “are a dirty little pig playing dress-up. A gold digger who thought she could trap my son with her pathetic little schemes.”

 

“I didn’t—”

 

She raised a hand, silencing me. “Spare me the excuses. Do you think I don’t know what women like you are after? You saw an opportunity and leaped at it, didn’t you? Well, let me make one thing clear, Amelia. You may carry the Cole name now, but you will never be a Cole. You’re unfit to be one!”

 

I felt the tears prick at the corners of my eyes but refused to let them fall. Not in front of her.

 

“Do you understand me? Rebecca pressed, her voice rising.

 

“Yes,” I whispered.

 

“Yes, what?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” I corrected, my voice trembling.

 

Rebecca smirked, clearly satisfied with my submission. “Good. Now, I expect you to behave appropriately. No scandals, no mistakes, and no embarrassing this family more than you already have. Is that clear?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Dismissed,” she said with a wave of her hand as if I were nothing more than a servant.

 

I turned to leave, my head spinning with shame and anger.

 

Back in Maxwell’s room, I sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the wedding ring on my finger. The cold metal felt like a shackle, binding me to a life I hadn’t chosen.

 

My mind replayed Rebecca's cruel words over and over. Dirty little pig. Gold digger. You will never be a Cole.

 

I thought of my mother’s voice, echoing Rebecca’s venom with her cruel remarks over the years. It was as though I had traded one cruel master for another. But this seemed different. I was trapped here for the rest of my life.

 

Tears streamed down my face, and this time, I didn’t stop them. For the first time in years, I allowed myself to cry.

 

Not for the life I’d lost, but for the one I had never been allowed to have.

 

Later That Day, Rebecca summoned me again, this time to the dining room. The table was set with an extravagant spread, but the atmosphere was anything but welcoming.

 

“Sit,” she ordered as I entered.

 

I obeyed, my nerves on edge.

 

Rebecca sipped her tea, her eyes never leaving me. “Do you know how many women have thrown themselves at my son over the years?” she asked, her tone conversational but laced with malice.

 

I shook my head, unsure if she expected an answer.

 

“Hundreds,” she said, setting her cup down with a sharp clink. “Beautiful, intelligent, accomplished women. And yet, here we are. With you.”

 

I swallowed hard, my throat tightening with every word.

 

“You’re a disappointment, Amelia. To this family and Maxwell. But don’t worry,” she said, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “I’ll make sure you don’t ruin everything we’ve built. You’ll be kept in your place.”

 

Her words were a punch to the gut, but I forced myself to stay composed.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” I said quietly, my voice barely audible.

 

Rebecca’s smile widened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glint of satisfaction in her eyes.

 

“Good,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Now, be a dear and fetch me more tea.”

 

As I stood to leave, my hands trembling with suppressed anger, I vowed to myself that I would endure.

 

I had no choice.

 

But I would find a way to survive this—no matter what it took.