Cecelia's POV
One of the cruelest parts of my new existence was that, the mansion was massive and beautiful.
Every corner of the place reeked of wealth and power. It looked like a place people would kill to belong in, or get killed in… just as I witnessed earlier.
I had never felt more unwelcome in my life. And I decided that since I was going to be here for a while, I may as well enjoy the view of the place.
I stepped out of the room the next morning, after all that tense moment with Marcus yesterday.
Yesterday, I'd stormed into the dangerous residence in desperate need of protection. Today, I was the Don's possession.
"Move." I heard someone coldly say behind me.
I turned just in time to step aside as one of the house guards brushed past me, his shoulder deliberately knocking into mine.
The impact wasn't too hard against my body, but it was intentional enough to come as a message.
I gathered myself, refusing to react, even as a few echoed laughs from further down the hall reached me. Just one day in the mansion, they didn't even bother to hide it anymore.
To them all, I was the Don's latest entertainment, his new toy. I couldn't blame them at all, they weren't far from the truth. I'd literally offered myself entirely to Marcus, in exchange for protection… protection I wasn't even sure I getting.
I continued walking down the hallway, my steps gentle, my head held just high enough to keep my dignity intact. I had learned that much already… if I dared showed a crack of weakness, they would exploit it.
But that didn't make it any easier.
Breakfast was worse. It always was. The dining hall stretched endlessly, filled with members of the syndicate… men and women who wore danger and power like a second skin.
But every one of them was loyal to one man. Marcus Vale. And seemingly irritated deeply by my presence in the mansion.
The moment I stepped in, conversations dropped, eyes shifted, and in the following sections, judgment descended over me, almost pulling me to the ground because of the weight of it.
But I walked on toward the table anyway. Slowly and calmly. Like I belonged there. Even though I knew I didn't.
Instinctively, and because I was nervous of their stares and scrutiny, I sat down on the seat closest to me. But it didn't take long for someone to walk up to me.
"You're in the wrong seat." I heard them say behind me.
I turned.
A man leaned down on the chair I sat on, his expression sarcastic, his eyes dragging over me with clear hatred.
"That one's reserved," he added lazily. "Or did no one tell you?"
I glanced at the chair, and just that moment I realized that it was Marcus's chair. Of course. Immediately I sprang up.
"I… I'm sorry… I wasn't aware," I replied nervously.
A few people chuckled at that.
"Oh, you weren't?" a woman scoffed from across the table. "That's so sad." She mocked.
Heat crept up my spine, but I forced it down.
"I'll find another seat, then," I said simply.
I turned slightly, ready to step away…
"Sit." I heard his voice boom within the room.
The single word cut through the dining hall like a blade. And everything and everyone went silent. Marcus.
I hadn't even seen him enter, but he was there all of a sudden, at the table, his presence commanding and suffocating in the way only he could be.
His gaze shifted to me briefly, then to the others. And just like that, the air in the room completely shifted.
"I don't recall assigning seats to anyone," he said coldly.
No one spoke or moved next. Even the man who had stood over me earlier straightened slightly, his confidence evaporating under Marcus's stare.
"Is there a problem?" Marcus asked, his tone deceptively calm.
"No, Don," the man said quickly.
"Good."
Marcus's attention returned to me still standing, his expression unreadable. "Sit."
This time, I obeyed. Slowly lowering myself into the chair that had just moments ago been contested like I had no right to it.
The silence that followed next was deafening. No one dared challenged him.
But my protection didn't last.. it never did. Protection from Marcus came in moments. And what followed after the breakfast was everything else.
"Careful with that." One of the maids said to me when I tried to help clear the table.
She snatched the plate from my hand before I could even think of an answer.
"You might break it," she added, gesturing vaguely to me.
I frowned slightly. "No, I won't."
"You must really enjoy your illusion, don't you?" the maid said with a smirk. "Walking around like you belong here."
I held his gaze firm.
"I don't need to explain myself to you," I replied.
Her smirk widened. "No. You just need to keep him entertained."
A few others nearby laughed. The words hit harder than I expected. But I didn't flinch. I didn't want to give her that satisfaction.
"Step aside," she said finally.
And for a moment, I didn't move. I didn't want to. Then, slowly, I did… just enough to let her pass.
She walked past me, but not without dropping a final cruel words.
"Enjoy it while it lasts."
I ignored her and just walked towards the door and kept on walking, even as anger twisted in my chest.
***
By evening, the weight of it all had settled deep into my bones. Every glance, every whisper was a reminder of what they thought I was. Entertainment. A distraction for the Don.
I stood on the balcony outside Marcus's private quarters, the cool night air brushing against my skin as I tried to breathe through it.
"You're thinking too loudly." I heard him say behind me.
I stiffened slightly. Of course he would notice my mood. It had been a routine for us whenever I came to his room.
Even though I was still very much afraid of him, I didn't turn immediately. "Is that a problem?"
"It depends," he said, stepping closer. "Are those thoughts going to become actions?"
I let out a quiet breath before facing him.
"No."
His gaze studied me, sharp and unreadable as always.
"Good," he said calmly, "because you're now mine. And if you ever think of running, you'll be needing much more protection… against me.