Different

I was supposed to sleep like a baby on that soft bed, the kind that swallows you whole and makes you forget everything. Instead, I spent the entire night tossing and turning, tangled in sheets that felt more like a trap than comfort.

I couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t sleep.

My mind refused to rest. The camera in the corner didn’t help either. Just one night in this mansion, and I already felt like a prisoner.

Trapped.

Thoughts of escape looped in my head like a broken tape. I kept replaying that hallway I’d seen on the day I was brought in, the one that led to the garden. Maybe there was a back gate. Maybe I could slip out before anyone realized I wasn’t pregnant. Before the doctor arrived.

Because if that test happened, everything would fall apart. And nothing was going to save me this time.

And Sammy? The genius who’d talked me into this mess? Not a single call. Not a text. Nothing. No “Are you okay?” No backup plan. Just silence.

Had he really abandoned me?

I sat up with a sigh and pressed a hand to my temple. A stupid part of me wondered what would happen if I just told Kelvin everything. Just blurted it out—I’m not Elena. I never was.

Maybe he’d understand. Maybe he’d let me go.

But I didn’t believe that. Not really. The way he looked at me with suspicion, with coldness, I wasn’t sure what he was capable of.

He’s going to find out anyway, my thoughts whispered. Sooner or later.

Maybe. But not today.

I pulled on a hoodie, something oversized that helped hide the silk nightdress underneath—Elena’s, I assumed—and crept out of the room. The house was still, but I moved as quietly as I could through the polished corridors, past expensive paintings, and sparkling chandeliers.

Then I saw it. The hallway. The one that led to the garden.

I slipped through the door and stepped into the cool morning air. It smelled of roses and dew, but I didn’t stop to admire it. My eyes locked onto the tall metal fence in the distance.

That had to be it. My way out.

I moved fast, heart pounding, scanning for cameras, guards, anything that could stop me. The fence looked tall. Too tall. Probably had sensors or alarms. But I had to try.

I reached it, fingers curling around the cold iron bars. I was about to climb when a voice stopped me cold.

“What exactly are you looking for?”

I froze. The blood drained from my face. Slowly, I turned. There he was. Kelvin.

Arms folded across his chest. His gaze locked on me like a predator sizing up its prey. His tone was calm, but it carried something darker beneath the surface.

I hadn’t even started climbing yet. Thank God.

“I… I needed some fresh air,” I stammered, tapping the bars like it was some innocent morning routine. “For the baby. I read that morning walks are healthy.”

He didn’t blink.

“For the baby?” he repeated, voice low. He took a slow, deliberate step toward me. Then another .Oh shit, now I'm in trouble.

“I mean, I—I got a little lost,” I added quickly, trying to sound casual. “This place is huge. I thought I’d walk around and get used to the layout. Lovely house.”

He didn’t smile. Didn’t even soften. Just kept walking toward me with slow, heavy steps. I backed up until my spine hit the bars. There is no more room to move.

He stopped just inches from me. His breath brushed against my skin, warm and unsettling. The tingling feeling felt strange on my skin.

“Why so tense?” he murmured. There was a mocking lilt to his voice, like he knew I was lying. “Relax.” He leaned in slightly, his nose grazing the curve of my neck.

I stiffened.

“You smell different, vanilla. Cinnamon.” he whispered. “Not like your usual smell.

The moment stretched. His fingers brushed the hem of my hoodie, toying with the silk nightdress underneath. A teasing, deliberate motion. Too intimate. My heart was racing with different thoughts.

And I was shamefully letting someone else’s husband touch me in an unholy way.

Was that not cheating?

I instinctively grabbed his hand.

It was subtle but meant to stop him. A silent plea. He didn’t push further—but he didn’t stop either. He was testing me. Watching me. As if wanting to see my reaction. Or did he want me to make the first move and take it further?

I shook my head at the thought of that. My mind raced. Was I okay with this?

Absolutely not. I might be pretending, but this crossed a line. I was trapped, panicked, and trying not to show it.

“Hey... we should go inside,” I whispered, trying to sound calm. “The weather’s getting cold.”

He tilted his head. “You want to fuck inside?”

My eyes widened. I nearly choked on my own spite. He sounded too casual about it, as if he was expecting it.

“No! That’s not what I meant,” I said quickly. “I just… I want to rest.”

He stared at me, something shifting in his expression. surprised.

“Stop pretending,” he muttered, almost like it was a curse. “It’s annoying.”

“Please, I—”

“Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he snapped, voice low but sharp. “You and I both know how horny you can get. Elena. Tell me, how many men did you sleep with for money while you were gone?”

He snapped, clearly frustrated. like he needed to pour out the anger he has been holding ever snice i got here. The words hit like a slap.

I wasn’t Elena—but for some strange reason, his words triggered me. knowing a man has so much hatered in his heart for his wife.

And then. in my shocked state, he stepped back. His hands dropped away. As if he didn’t crave me. Elena. A while ago. His eyes no longer looked at me with desire but with disgust. Cold. Hateful.

The same look he’d worn the day I first saw him. I stood there, frozen. Chest rising and falling. Heart thudding against my ribs.