TRAPPED IN LUXURY

Lucy's POV

"Ughhh...oh..."

I wake up with a very sharp headache. My stomach feels sick too.

My body feels heavy, but that doesn't matter. I immediately sit up with a groan.

Where...the hell am I?

I blink, trying to see in the dark room. There's barely any light here.

I try to notice some things; to stay present.

The bed I'm sitting on is softer than anything I've ever slept on before. Very comfy.

But this comfort is not important- I'm afraid.

I breathe and try my best to remember what happened last before I blacked out.

It all comes back to me.

Vincent Black. The contract. The money.

Immediately, I sit up. My hands fly over my body, checking myself. No torn clothes. No bruises. No sign that anything...worse happened.

Okay. I'm fine...

I sigh and throw the heavy blanket off now. My legs swing over the side of the bed.

I stand shakily.

The room is huge- far bigger than that tiny apartment I shared with my mother. 

Everything is really modern and very sleek, too. But the décor is bland.

Dark walls, black furniture, not a single pop of colour.

The only sign of life is the window draped in thick curtains. I rush over, yanking them open.

My breath immediately halts.

In a small distance, there's a high wall. It covers the entire estate; leaving a mass of trees outside.

Trees upon trees. There doesn't seem to be any form of city life outside those walls.

I'm so done with.

Have I been kidnapped? 

Where the hell did they bring me?

A soft knock shakes me out of my thoughts.

But before I can react, the door swings open with force, and a petite woman steps inside. 

She's in a very plain uniform and her rat-like hair is ina tight bun.

A maid?

I'm not sure what I'm expecting but it's not what happens next.

The woman sneers. She drops a tray on a table carelessly.

I don't get a word out before she turns to walk away. 

I blink, stunned.

What the fuck was that?

I stare at her back in shock. What was that reaction? But before I can think further about it, I hear voices in the hallway. 

My instincts kick in, telling me I need to see what's going on.

I have to know where I am. If this was Vincent's house, then I needed to find him.

I step into the hallway and immediately regret it.

About eight people stand there. They are dressed in sharp suits and elegant dresses. Immediately I show my face, they turn to me, looking at me with the same disgust the maid had. 

They are probably in their 50s or 60s.

Each has judging eyes, whispering among themselves like I can't hear them.

"Why would our Alpha settle for... this?" One said, staring at me with absolute disgust. 

But he didn't waste any time before checking out my chest.

Men.

"A mere human? It's disgraceful."

"She doesn't even look the part. I mean, how would she be the lady of the pack? It's a big disgrace I tell you."

Why were they referring to me as a mere human? Was it because I came from a poor background? 

Was calling me a human now the same as being poor?

Rich snobbish bastards. They actually think they're gods.

I grit my teeth and try to keep my face blank. I'm still trying to understand what's going on. 

I've been looked down on my entire life even by my own mother. 

This is nothing new.

But then, one of them steps forward- a very beautiful woman for her age.

She stands in front of me. I can feel her very imposing aura.

"What a disappointment."

I shouldn't have been surprised by this- these people owed me nothing.

Were they just waiting in the hallway for me?

I square my shoulders, forcing myself to smile. "I don't believe we've met."

Her lip curls. "We didn't need to."

I stare at here while biting my tongue. 

Why am I here?

I am trying desperately to keep my fake smile up. 

But the longer I look at her, the more familiar she seems.

Then I see it.

Vincent's eyes. 

His jawline and that same pouty mouth...

Oh.

This woman must be related to him. His mother, maybe?

I consider pointing it out, maybe using it to my advantage to escape here 

But before I can open my mouth, she steps closer. 

"Listen carefully, girl," she says in a low and very sharp tone. 

"You may have fooled Vincent into bringing you here, but you'll never be one of us."

Her words confuse me but I refuse to show it. 

Vincent had asked me to be his wife. Even if his methods were very rude- he could have simply asked me to follow his men.

Instead, I let out a small, amused hum. I have to find Vincent.

"That's funny," I say sweetly. 

"Because from where I'm standing, I don't need to be one of you. I just need to be his wife."

Her expression hardens.

She's used to people bowing down to her, I realize. And that makes pushing back even sweeter.

But I don't get to enjoy the small victory for long. 

She lifts her chin and scoffs, turning on her heel. 

The rest follow her lead, moving in unison, like well-trained dogs.

So all these old people came here for me? All for a contract wife?

I wait until they disappear down the hall before letting out a shaky breath.

This is just a job. A contract.

I repeat it over and over, but my chest still tightens.

I force back tears as I walk away.

Money...it's all for money.

Back in the bedroom, I decide to open the closet. When I do, my breath catches.

Rows of dresses, shoes lined perfectly in boxes, jewellery cases filled to the brim.

Oh my...

I run my fingers over every single thing; like how beggars grab at crumpled change.

My mood lifts instantly.

Screw them. Let those old geezers say what they like.

This is my life now.

I grab a simple dress and head to the bathroom to change. The second I step out, though, I freeze.

Vincent is sitting at the edge of the bed.

Not the smirking, charming man from the bar. Not the one who slipped money between my breasts like it was a joke.

This Vincent is... different.

I swallow and approach with a hesitant smile. "Morning, husband."

His eyes flick to me, his face very cold. "Sit."

"Okay?" I say, a little confused. I lower myself and sit beside him.

I reach for his hand- just so I can see how he reacts.

Maybe he's still the same flirty man I met? 

However, the second my fingers brush his, he grabs my wrist. Hard.

I flinch.

His grip tightens, his eyes dark.

 "You need to understand something, Lacy." His voice is calm.

Stern even. 

"While you're here there are certain things you should know. You will follow my rules."

A lump forms in my throat.

Rules?

He releases my wrist and stands up; looking down at me. "Number one. You do not leave this estate without my permission. Ever."

I swallow hard.

"Two. You will speak only when spoken to in front of my people."

The memory of those judging eyes flashes in my mind.

"Three. You will never enter my private office or any restricted areas of this house."

I clench my fists; breathe a bit.

"Four. You will dress modestly at all times. I don't need my 'wife' embarrassing me."

I grit my teeth.

"Five. You will not question me, my decisions, or my authority."

My jaw locks.

"Six." He steps closer, his voice dropping to a quiet threat.

 "You will remember that this is a contract. Nothing more."

"And lastly, don't ever touch me when we're in private. Keep your hands to yourself."

A small silence follows.

My husband drops my wrist. 

He walks toward the door. "Your things will be moved to another room."

Another room?

I blink up at him, my stomach sinking. "Wait, we're not even-"

He gives me one last, cold look. "This isn't a real marriage. Behave yourself."

And then he's gone.

I sat there for a long time, staring at the space where he stood.

I don't cry- I won't.

This is about money. T

That's all.

I take a very deep breath.

Then I try to get rid of the tightness in my chest. 

I need to stay focused. But then-

CRASH!

Something shattering echoes from outside the room.

I immediately jump to my feet. My heart is racing madly. 

What the hell was that?