Svanna Johansson

The situation seemed surprising when Svanna had to jolt awake and found herself no longer facing the cold floor of the room, but this was no bed. Strange. Who had moved her to the sofa?

Still in the same room. Svanna's face twisted in various directions. The bed was so empty. There was no Nightroe there, and the blanket... was now neatly spread out on the surface of the mattress. Someone had obviously stepped in and finished the rest of last night's mess. Could it be Nightroe?

Svanna immediately sighed, thinking that was the most improbable part. The man who hated her would never pay the slightest bit of attention. There had been so much pain already and she didn't expect there to be any moments where Nightroe's habitual need to choke her would return.

It was the first day after becoming the wife of that cruel man.

Nightroe Da Sullivan.

The second Mr. Sullivan, Don Nightroe, would continue his father's leadership based on the rules of their marriage being the main condition.

Svanna could not imagine how Nightroe would end up being more cruel than she had ever experienced. All of them. The man was probably doing something important out there. Gangsters on the loose. That was how her husband was.

Slowly, Svanna decided to let both feet touch the cold floor of the room. She was about to get up, but suddenly the door of the room opened to reveal a middle-aged maid walking in. A silver-colored tray was clutched tightly in the middle-aged woman's hand.

"Your breakfast, Mrs. Sullivan."

A friendly smile spread across Svanna's face. She couldn't say much, other than curling the corners of her thin lips in a brief greeting.

There was a validity, where something in her was still too hesitant to do every single thing here. Nightroe's rules sometimes felt very painful. She had nothing in this room, other than the clothes she brought straight from home.

Clothes....

Svanna immediately understood that she was still wearing last night's underwear. Her face looked down. She was a little puzzled to find that the thin nightgown, which she often wore at night when she was still enjoying her job in California, was already firmly attached to her body.

Someone lifted her onto the sofa and arranged for her to change. Fear suddenly ran through Svanna's mind. She was too desperate to think of the worst possibilities here.

"What's your name?" and decided to ask before the middle-aged woman in front of her prepared the need to introduce herself.

"Elisabeth, Mrs. Sullivan."

The respectful greeting indirectly made Svanna feel uncomfortable. She was not used to this kind of situation. A penchant for freedom also included not engaging in calls that sounded hurtful.

"Anna. You can call me Anna."

Svanna smiled faintly again, noticing how Elisabeth looked doubtful and like she wanted to refuse. It was her wish. She was sure the middle-aged woman would not express disapproval.

"Your breakfast ...."

Svanna's eyebrows were raised high as she took in the delicious breakfast on the tray. It was at least curious and made her want to ask.

"Why not prepare it in the kitchen? I can go downstairs if I get hungry."

"This is Mr. Nightroe's request. He doesn't want you to leave this room, Mrs. Sullivan."

Svanna wanted to underline the call again, but something in her tended to be overpowered by Nightroe's absurd-sounding order. It was still early in the morning, and she was asked not to leave the room.

Svanna would not agree to that part. She liked freedom, and Nightroe could not keep her confined like in a cage. Her husband—so bad to say this—knew what she didn't like and decided to get involved with it instead.

Were Nightroe's additional rules another form of retribution for agreeing to the marriage?

Svanna closed her eyes for a moment, trying to remain patient with the situation. "Where's Nightroe?" she asked reassuringly. Maybe they needed to talk. Things like this were not supposed to happen.

"Mr. Nightroe left the mansion last night."

Good. If Nightroe did not return after the man left her alone in the room. Then who was the closest person to assume to have done all the seemingly chaotic things last night?

Svanna's eyes looked straight into Elisabeth's face. Wondering if it was possible?

"Did you come to this room last night?"

It was fairer to ask the middle-aged woman directly. However, a faint shake gave her a hint that there were still so many questions floating to the surface.

Svanna let out a rough sigh, then decided to accept the breakfast tray. She could solve everything herself. Hoping Elisabeth wouldn't wait around and make her feel uncomfortable by being watched.

"You can go, Elisabeth. I'll call you when I'm done."

That was all. There was nothing else for them to talk about. Elisabeth finally decided to leave the room. Something that had never escaped Svanna's attention before, deciding to simply look down at breakfast in her own lap.