I should be used to it by now.
The polished floors gleamed under my small, careful steps. I carried yet another stack of laundry to the room at the end of the hallway, feeling the familiar ache in my arms. It never ends. Never.
I paused, listening. Liam's footsteps. Always a step behind, always watching. Why can't I just exist without him noticing? My chest tightened. I remembered the first time I'd realized—he enjoyed controlling me. Not just disciplining, but claiming a part of me I didn't want to give.
John's laughter floated down the hall, light and soft. My stomach twisted. I wanted to rush to him, to cling to the comfort he always offered, but I couldn't. Liam's shadow would always be there. I am trapped between fire and ice.
The Smith mansion was beautiful, suffocating, and merciless. Each corner reminded me of who I was in their eyes: nothing. A servant dressed as a child. A girl who smiled too freely, spoke too softly, and sometimes… thought too much.
Today, I spilled a drop of tea on the rug.
Liam's face had darkened immediately. "Do you want me to show you what happens to careless girls?" he had hissed, gripping my wrist with cold precision. I swallowed my fear, nodded silently, and endured the punishment he deemed fit: scrubbing the rug on my knees until my hands ached and my palms bled.
John had appeared quietly afterward, a hand brushing my hair back.
"Don't let him win," he whispered. His warmth, brief as it was, burned through me, leaving both hope and guilt. I want to trust him… but trusting is dangerous here.
The cruel truth lingered: Liam had always watched me. Always. From the moment I arrived at nine, he had been calculating, observing, and marking his territory in ways I could barely understand.
I caught him sometimes, staring when John smiled at me, or when I laughed quietly at something small. I am supposed to feel fear, not… this. The tension in the house grew with each year, my adolescence a battleground I didn't choose.
I had learned to survive in silence. To hide the small flickers of emotion I wanted to show. Love, laughter, desire—they were dangerous. But they came anyway, uninvited, like shadows I could not outrun.
I was eighteen when John finally announced his engagement. The news hit me like a physical blow. I had loved him quietly, secretly, for years. He was my light in the darkness. And now, he was moving on.
I tried not to show anything, but Liam noticed. Of course, he did. His eyes darkened when he saw the quiet tears I brushed away, the small tremor in my hands. And I saw it clearly for the first time: his jealousy. Not just for John, but for me. For the right to control me.
I hated him for it.
I feared him for it.
And secretly… a part of me felt… something I didn't understand.
The night of John's engagement arrived. The mansion buzzed with lights, laughter, and chatter. I moved quietly, serving drinks and helping with preparations, invisible to everyone but Liam.
His hand brushed mine briefly as I passed. That brief touch sent a shock through me, leaving my heart pounding. Why does he do this? Why does he make me feel alive and terrified at the same time?
Later, when everyone was celebrating and John was smiling at his fiancée, Liam pulled me aside. His eyes were dark, almost unreadable.
"You're mine tonight," he whispered, low and commanding.
I froze. My mind screamed, No. You can't. But my body betrayed me, trembling in both fear and something more dangerous.
He guided me to a quiet room upstairs. I couldn't speak. My thoughts were scattered, memories of every punishment, every glance, every small moment of control rushing back.
And then it happened. Liam claimed me. Not as John's sister, not as a servant, not as a child—but as something… his. My body responded without permission, my mind trapped between shock, fear, and confusion.
I thought I would hate him, scream, fight—but my body betrayed my mind. My limbs relaxed, my heart raced, and I felt… something I had never felt before. A dark, dangerous intimacy, wrapped in fear and desire.
After it was over, I lay in his chest, exhausted. My tears had dried on my cheeks, but my mind spun with guilt and confusion. Liam's hands were gentle now, massaging my back as if to soothe the turmoil he had caused.
I hate him.
I love him.
I fear him.
I want him.
The contradictions consumed me. His chest rose and fell steadily beneath me, and for the first time in years, I felt… claimed. But at what cost?
A week later, I informed my adopted father of my plans: acceptance to a university in Germany. Liam's eyes darkened, but he said nothing. John's engagement was finalized. Grace was blissfully unaware of the chaos swirling around me.
Packing my few belongings, I looked around the Smith mansion one last time. This house took so much from me—my innocence, my freedom—but it gave me something too. Awareness, survival, strength.
Liam watched me quietly, his presence heavy. He didn't speak, but I felt it: the promise, the obsession, the dark, consuming desire.
I walked away from the Smith family, leaving the mansion behind. My back was straighter than it had been in years, my mind determined, my heart guarded. And yet… I knew this story wasn't over. Liam's shadow would follow me across oceans, across time.
I was leaving, yes—but he had already claimed me. And I would never be free from him, no matter how far I ran.