After Victor made the new rules, Mia resumed her work in the kitchen. She cooked only the meals that she and Victor ate. That evening, Victor ordered French macarons. When Mia was done cooking, the chief maid served Victor his food.
Mia sat at the dining table with him. Victor took his first bite, then the second, then the third. He found no reason to complain. Mia had cooked the food exactly the way he liked it.
As time passed, Victor's maids and Scott began keeping a detailed journal of Mia's movements—where she went, what she ate, what she did, and the hours she slept. Mia had no idea that her footsteps were being monitored so closely.
When Scott and the maid submitted their journals, Victor was not angry. Instead, he became more obsessed with Mia. She was not reckless. There was no scandal, no disobedience, no stain on her character. Yet her calm resilience unsettled him. Even her quiet existence disturbed the control he prided himself on.
One afternoon, Mia decided to take a stroll around the estate. She did not ask Victor for permission, as this was not the first time she had done so. What she did not know was that Scott followed her from a distance.
Along the way, a wealthy young man stopped his car and struck up a conversation with her. He had noticed her beauty and how elegantly she was dressed that afternoon. They spoke for a while. Mia was honest and told him she was married. The man looked disappointed but respectful. He bid her goodbye and drove away.
Because Scott was too far to hear their conversation, he recorded a video of them instead. He left immediately and returned to the mansion. By the time he arrived, Victor had already returned from work.
When Victor saw the video of Mia speaking with another man, his mood changed instantly. Rage flashed across his face. He smashed the phone to the floor and ordered Scott to leave his presence at once.
Later, when Mia returned to the mansion, Victor sent for her. This time, he did not overreact. He asked her to sit on the bed while he sat on the chair opposite her. His voice was calm, but heavy.
"What is it that you want that I don't have?" he asked.
"Is it money? Cars? Houses? Or am I not worthy enough to be called your husband?"
Mia was stunned by his words. She said nothing.
Victor then asked who the man she had spoken to earlier was. Mia smiled faintly.
"I don't know him," she said. "I was only taking a stroll around the estate. He approached me, but he left shortly after I told him I was married."
Victor felt a strange sense of relief. He believed Mia—she had never lied to him.
He then told her she was no longer permitted to take walks alone. From now on, she could only stroll with him or with Scott. Mia was not surprised. In Victor Hale's house, there was always a new rule every day. She stood up and left the room without a word.
The next morning, a Sunday, Mia went to Victor's room. She asked for permission to visit her father, but Victor refused.
"It's been almost a month since I last saw him," she said. "I know you've helped him, but I need to see my father. You can't keep me locked up here."
Victor remained firm. He told her she was not going anywhere. Mia stood up, tried to speak again, then stopped. Without another word, she left his room.
Later that afternoon, Victor was not around. Mia realized she had forgotten her scarf in his room and went back to retrieve it. As she turned to leave, she noticed a book lying open on the bed.
Curious, she picked it up, thinking it was something she could read.
Her breath caught.
It was a journal.
Page after page contained detailed records of her life—where she went, what she ate, who she spoke to, even the smallest routines she never thought anyone noticed.
Mia's hands began to shake.
Anger flooded her chest. She rushed to find Victor. Instead of apologizing, Victor became furious, demanding to know why she had been in his room.
Mia stared at him, stunned.
"So you're turning this against me?" she asked. "Fine. Continue your journaling."
She laughed bitterly, tears streaming down her face.
"Oh, why am I even surprised?" she cried. "I forgot where I am. This place isn't a home—it's a cage. How dare I get comfortable."