CHAPTER FIVE

Lana's POV

My eyes widened in fear, my lungs burned as the air thinned, everything seemed to fade except the sound of my low heartbeat.

Was this how I was going to die?

As my vision blurred, he finally loosened his grip, his hand slipping away from my neck. I dropped to my knees with my head hung low. I coughed, and struggled to catch my breath.

Then he knelt to my eye level, with an unreadable expression, and held out a black folder.

"I suggest you never talk back to me. This shouldn't repeat itself," he said slowly.

"Y… yes. Yes sir." I stammered as I shifted backwards. My back was already on the wall, so I couldn't move.

"You will sign this now. You belong to me, law and choice." He held out a feather and the contract.

"I don't want to work here anymore, I quit," I said lowly.

"That would be unnecessary seeing that you don't have a choice. Once you're in, there's no way out. Now sign it before I make you do it." He shoved the paper at me. I collected it, and glanced through the contract. My name was written in bold letters, and his signature was in red ink.

He bent down, and held out my left palm. Then he forcefully cut it open, and allowed my blood to drip into a small golden cup that he brought from his drawer.

I hissed in pain as my blood dripped.

Then he dipped the feather-pen into my blood, and handed it to me.

Who the heck are these people? Are they even sane?

Does this mean he signed the contract with his blood too?

My fingers trembled as I reached for the pen and contract. Everything within me screamed to run, but where? The memory of his hand on my throat still lingered.

I hesitated, with my pen hovering above the page, then with a final stroke, it was done. After some seconds, I felt a sharp pull tug deep in my chest, as if invisible strings had latched onto my soul. My breath caught in my throat, it wasn't pain, but it wasn't comforting either. It felt like a connection of some sort.

My soul whispered a quiet plea, "Please… let me survive this."

The door clicked shut behind him, and silence settled. I sat frozen, staring at my hands which once held the contract that had my bloody signature on it.

His parting instructions echoed in my head, “Get yourself cleaned up. Go downstairs, and meet my daughter.”

My knees wobbled as I tried to stand up, not from the choking, but from the weight of what I had just agreed to. I held the wall behind me for support, then I dragged myself to my room door.

I washed my hands and face, and brushed my hair again. I saw a small first aid kit on my bed.

Someone must've dropped it before now.

I applied the pain relief cream on my neck, and other parts of my body, and also took some painkillers.

I stared at my reflection, my cheeks were flushed, my eyes were dull. I took a deep breath, and whispered under my breath, “Just survive this. You can survive anything.”

By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, the grand house had returned to its calm and intimidating elegance.

The girl from earlier walked up to me, "Miss Dorathy is having her breakfast. Follow me," she led the way in silence.

As I walked in, a little girl caught my attention. She was seated on a pastel-pink babysitter at the head of the table. Her tiny feet didn’t reach the footrest. A plate of scrambled eggs and toast sat in front of her, but she was absentmindedly poking at it with her fork.

She was very small, like she was just two years old. Her skin was pale, and her lips were chapped.

Her soft curly hair was tied into two puffs, and her cute blue eyes quietly observed the world around her.

Alexa noticed me first and smiled.

“Lana. Perfect timing.”

She gestured toward the little girl, “Come meet Dorothy.”

I took a few steps closer as Alexa continued, “Lana, this is Dorothy. Mr. Ronan’s adopted daughter. She is three years old.”

Adopted? The word caught me by surprise. He cared enough to get her a nanny. I feel it's a bit out of character for him, considering he almost strangled me to death, and was a nanny for his adopted daughter.

I blinked, my eyes briefly scanning Dorothy over again.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I said softly, crouching a little so we were eye-level.

“I’m Lana. And I’m going to be your new… uhm… Nana. So you can call me Nana.”

I added a playful smile and a wink.

Her lips curved upwards. Her small fingers stopped fiddling with her food, she looked up at me in curiosity.

“Hi,” she whispered back, her small voice barely above her breath.

It made my heart melt, her voice was so adorable and cute. She was wearing a light blue top that complimented her eyes, and a pink skirt. Her little smile made me feel like I had just won a gold medal.

“Mind if I sit with you?” I asked.

She hesitated for a bit, looking at her food, then she gave a tiny nod.

I pulled out a chair beside her and sat down, watching as she slowly picked up a piece of toast and took a proper bite.

I smiled at her, and gestured for her to continue. She glanced at me, then she continued staring at her plate.

“She hasn’t smiled since she arrived here, always very quiet,” Alexa said quietly, serving me breakfast.

I quickly stood up with the plate in my hand, "I don't think I can eat here."

"You are Dorathy's nanny, and you're supposed to be anywhere she is. Please take your seat and have breakfast with her," Alexa smiled.

I sat down, and watched Dorathy as she ate.

“I know you'll make a huge difference, not just with her but with everyone you come in contact with,” Alexa said.