The Room She Won’t Leave

KIER

Three days later

Family Estate mansion

"Y... young master," Richard, the butler, called out just as I was about to leave for the company.

I froze, my hand on the door handle of my car. I had bigger things to worry about than whatever insignificant problem he was about to bring up.

Not only had I been forced into a marriage with some random woman, but now I had to step into my father's company and learn how to "take charge" of a business I was already well-versed in. I went to business school for this, for God’s sake. I didn’t need to be babysat.

I turned and gave him a sharp look. "What is it?"

Richard fidgeted, rubbing a hand over his forehead, looking like he'd just run a marathon. "It's about your wife," he stammered.

My jaw tightened. My wife? The woman I was married to for a few days now, and still didn’t even know? Why would Richard come to me with this?

I exhaled sharply. "What about her?"

He hesitated, then spoke in a near whisper. "She hasn't... she hasn't left her room since she arrived. Me and the others are concerned, young master."

I blinked, still processing his words. I couldn't help but feel a wave of annoyance. What do you want me to do about it, Richard?

"So?" I said, trying to mask my annoyance. "She locked herself in a room. It's her choice. Is she eating?"

"Well, yes... but she barely touches the food. We leave it there every day, and she picks at it, but she doesn't speak, doesn't react at all."

I ran a hand through my hair, my patience thinning. "She can't speak, Richard. So that’s not a problem. And as long as she’s eating, I see no issue."

I pulled the car door open. "It’s not my problem if she wants to lock herself away. I’ve got more important things to handle."

Richard looked as if he might say more, but I was already sliding into my car, slamming the door shut. I could see him standing there, lost in thought, still probably trying to figure out what to do with his “new lady of the house.” I didn’t care. This whole marriage was a joke to me, and I wasn’t about to play the doting husband.

The drive to the company was a short one, but it felt like it dragged on forever. My mind churned over the list of things I had to do. Meetings, reports, some inane introductions, mostly just ceremonial fluff, nothing that actually required much thought. My father would probably rattle on about his expectations and how I should “step up” and “take control.”

I hated how everything felt like a performance, every moment a calculated step in a show no one bothered to ask me to audition for.

When I arrived, employees were lined up, standing in neat rows, as though they were greeting royalty. I barely glanced at them as I walked past, not caring for their rehearsed smiles. My father stood in the lobby, his arms crossed, a stern look on his face.

"Good, you're on time," he remarked, glancing at his watch like I hadn’t just spent twenty minutes fighting through traffic.

"Right," I muttered under my breath as I followed him to the boardroom, barely acknowledging the people we passed. He went into his usual spiel about the day’s agenda, department heads, managers, assistants, introductions to a sea of names I’d forget the second I shook their hands. The only thing that stuck in my mind was the nagging thought of my wife, locked away in her room.

Why was she doing this? Was it out of spite? Did she really hate me that much? Or was it simply her way of dealing with being thrust into a situation she didn’t ask for? I’d have no idea, considering we’d barely spoken since the wedding.

I should be the one upset, shouldn’t I? After all, I didn’t sign up for any of this. The whole marriage was forced on me. And yet, she was the one hiding in her room like a child throwing a tantrum. Not that it mattered, though. I had my own problems to focus on. Still, a small part of me couldn’t help but wonder why she was acting this way.

“Pay attention, Kier,” my father snapped, his voice cutting through my thoughts like a blade. I looked up to find him glaring at me, clearly annoyed. "This is important."

I straightened in my chair, plastering on a polite smile. "Of course, Father," I said, though my mind still lingered on the situation at home.

The hours dragged on. By the time the day was over, I was mentally exhausted. As I walked out of the building and got into my car, my mind wandered back to the estate. Would she still be in her room? Probably. Would I even care? Probably not.

But when I arrived back at the mansion and saw Richard standing near the front door, his worried expression still plastered on his face, something shifted inside me. He had that same look he’d had when I left that morning, the one that said something wasn’t right. And as his eyes flicked toward the stairs, I found myself asking, before I could stop myself, “Still hasn’t come out?”

Richard shook his head slowly, his expression clouded with worry.

I sighed, my shoulders heavy with the weight of an obligation I never asked for. “Fine, I’ll go check on her.”

I climbed the stairs slowly, each step echoing in the silence of the house. The hallway seemed longer now, darker somehow. When I reached her door, I hesitated. What was I supposed to say? How was I supposed to handle this? Was this even my problem?

I knocked softly at first. “It’s Kier. Open up.”

Silence.

I knocked harder, feeling my impatience rise. “I don’t know what your problem is, but this is my house too. If you’re going to lock yourself away, at least eat properly.”

Still nothing.

Frustrated, I grabbed the doorknob and turned. It clicked open with ease.

I stepped inside, the faint smell hitting me immediately. It was faint at first, but as I entered, it became stronger, foul and pungent. My nose wrinkled. What was that?

I flicked on the light, and the sight that greeted me made my stomach drop.

What the hell?