chapter 5

The ride to Darlington Knight’s mansion felt unreal.

The car was quiet, smooth, and dark enough inside that I could almost pretend none of this was happening. Outside, the city lights moved past like falling stars, each one sharp and far away, like a world I used to belong to.

I kept my hands locked together on my lap.

Every few minutes, when I remembered that the hospital really had received five million dollars… my chest tightened again. I tried not to think about it too deeply, because every time I did, something inside me bent sharply—like a branch carrying too much snow.

Darlington sat on the other side of the backseat. He wasn’t looking at me. He was reading something on a tablet, expression calm. He didn’t speak. He didn’t ask questions. His silence wasn’t awkward—just controlled.

I wasn’t used to people who didn’t fill silence with words.

I wasn’t used to quiet at all.

The driver spoke for the first time when the gates appeared.

“Sir, we’re here.”

I lifted my head.

The gates rose high, steel-black with gold edges, guarded by two uniformed men who stood straight like statues. The second they saw the car, they tapped something into their devices, and the gates opened soundlessly.

My stomach twisted.

This wasn’t a mansion.

This was a fortress.

The driveway curved through a long stretch of trees, tall and trimmed like walls. Modern lights illuminated the path, casting soft glows that made the whole place look surreal—like a dream too big for someone like me.

As the car rolled up the final slope, the mansion came into view.

It wasn’t the biggest house I had ever seen—just the most perfectly designed. Long glass walls. Dark stone. Clean lines. Everything sharp and quiet, like the entire building was holding its breath.

I whispered before I could stop myself, “It’s beautiful.”

Darlington didn’t look up from his tablet. “It’s functional.”

That was it.

No pride.

No boasting.

Just fact.

When the car stopped, the driver came around and opened my door. Cool night air brushed my skin as I stepped out. The smell of pine drifted from the trees. The mansion lights reflected off the glass walls, and for a moment I felt small again—too small, like the world here was too big for me to fit inside.

Darlington walked ahead, and I followed a few steps behind.

Security guards nodded to him as we approached the entrance. They didn’t look at me with curiosity or pity—just respectful professionalism. It made me lift my chin a little without meaning to.

Inside, the mansion was even quieter.

Soft lights. Clean floors. Hallways that looked like they belonged in a magazine. Everything smelled faintly like citrus, like someone cared about the air here.

I walked slowly, almost afraid of stepping too loud.

Darlington finally stopped in the main foyer.

“You’ll be living here for the next thirty days,” he said, his tone even. “No one can enter without clearance. No one can approach you. My staff already knows you’re under my protection.”

Under my protection.

The words settled over me, heavy but oddly comforting—like a blanket I wasn’t sure I deserved.

He gestured around the space. “I’ll show you the areas you’ll use. The rest of the mansion is restricted for security reasons.”

I nodded quickly. “Of course.”

We walked again, and I tried to absorb everything.

A long living room with a fireplace already lit.

A study with tall shelves and dark wood.

A dining room bigger than the apartment I used to live in.

A quiet corridor lined with plants.

Everything was peaceful. Controlled.

Like the opposite of Grant’s world.

After a few minutes, Darlington stopped at a hallway on the right and opened a door.

“This will be your room.”

I stepped inside slowly.

The room wasn’t overly luxurious. It wasn’t loud or flashy like the casino. It was simple—soft beige walls, a thick white rug, a large bed with warm lighting, a desk beside the window, a wardrobe, and a small couch. The kind of room made for breathing after long days.

A space that didn’t demand anything from me.

I stood there unable to speak for a moment.

Darlington watched me with that same unreadable calm. “If you need anything, you can ask any staff member. They won’t question you.”

I nodded again, still taking in the room.

“This is… more than I expected.”

“It’s temporary,” he replied gently. “But safe.”

Safe.

That word again.

It felt strange hearing it—like it belonged to someone else, not me.

Darlington turned slightly toward the doorway, preparing to leave.

But he paused.

“There is something you should understand about these thirty days.”

I straightened.

“My world is not simple,” he said. “You may see things. You may hear things. Nothing will involve you unless you choose to be involved. But you must stay cautious.”

I swallowed. “I will.”

“And Freya…”

He looked at me fully for the first time since we arrived.

“You are not here because you owe me anything.”

The reminder landed gently but firmly in my chest.

“You’re here because Grant will not stop,” he continued. “And I don’t like leaving loose ends when someone has been threatened.”

My breath stilled at the word “threatened.”

Because it was true.

Grant wouldn’t let me go that easily.

Darlington stepped back into the hallway. “Rest. Your thirty days begin tomorrow.”

He turned to leave.

My heart thumped hard—not out of fear, but from the weight of everything changing so fast.

Before he crossed the threshold, he said one last thing, voice low and steady:

“No one can touch you here. Not Grant. Not his men. Not anyone.”

Then the door closed softly behind him.

The room felt huge around me.

Silent.

Safe.

Too safe, almost.

For the first time in so long…

I let my body sink into the bed.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

And the quiet wrapped around me like a pair of hands I hadn’t felt in years, just when I thought everything was fine and my problems had been finally solved, my phone started ringing and I picked up my phone to see who was calling, it was Mr grant.