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I wander the house, before returning to my room and slamming the door shut—just like I used to when I was a little girl throwing a tantrum. What the actual dickens just happened down there? He can’t be fucking serious. My parents would never give me up. I’m their only daughter; the heir to their business; the light of their lives. So they told me anyway.
But why on earth would he lie to me about any of this? Surely, he knows that by lying to me it will make me despise him. It doesn’t make sense for him to do that.
After all, what could he gain from me hating him? Could he possibly be telling the truth?
There is only one way to find out and to do so I need access to a telephone.
With my back against the door, I look around the room and straight ahead are the windows with their velvet curtains, and to the left is a wall with two doors. The first door I open is a large walk-in closet. As I step inside, a light automatically comes on, revealing rows and rows of clothing. I reach out and grab the first pair of pants I see, pulling the black jeans from the clothes hanger. I examine the label and find they’re my size. I turn and cover the two steps to the inbuilt drawers. Rows and rows of black lace bras, panties, and assorted lingerie fill the top one. I can’t imagine myself wearing any of them while I am here but I grab the front pair, before closing the drawer and moving on to the next one down. This one holds short- and long-sleeve shirts, so I select the dove gray long-sleeved one at the front and put it aside with the underwear. As I explore, I find sweaters, leggings and even bathing suits. and leave the closet.
Behind door number two is an oversized bathroom. As my brain takes in everything I see, I can’t help but admire the spacious marble topped double vanity with vessel sinks, a bath with enough space for at least two people to soak in and still be comfortable, and a large glass-enclosed shower with an in-built seat. Dumping my clean clothes on the vanity, I quickly undress and hop into the shower. As the hot water runs over my body I begin to cry; heart-wrenching sobs wrack my body that take all the energy I have left in me. I sink to the shower floor, my knees connecting with the hard tiles, and let go of every emotion I am holding onto and all the tears I can possibly cry.
The water never goes cold and yet goose bumps appear across my flesh. I crawl out of the shower, pulling myself up by the vanity before standing there, looking into the foggy mirror. I use my palm to wipe away the condensation on the surface and take a good five minutes to just stare at myself. The person staring back at me is an absolute wreck. I turn away from my reflection and grab the closest towel from its spot beside the shower, then reach in and turn the taps off, stopping the cascading water.
Once completely dry, I dress quickly in the clothes Alexander has provided and wander back out to my bedroom. I take the time to scan every inch of my room, trying to spot anything that could be of assistance in contacting the outside world. As my focus moves over to the sitting area, I spot my clutch on the floor under the chair in the corner and I run towards it. Pulling it out, I upend it and dump the contents out. My wallet, keys, lipstick, and mirror all fall out, but my phone isn’t inside.
“Fuck!”.
I have no way to contact my family and ask them what on earth is going on. I can’t even call the police and have them come get me. I’m trapped here. I am now Alexander Black’s possession.
A knock sounds at the door, startling me from my dismay. When I pull it open, I find a small gray-haired woman peering at me. “Hello, dear. I’m Thelma. May I come in?” I nod in response and step back to allow her entry. As she walks past, she smiles kindly at me. “Mr. Black advised me of your arrival and asked me to help you in any way I can.” I detect a British accent, just like Alexander’s.
“That’s wonderful, Thelma. Can you show me to the phone, please?” Her smile falters for a moment.
“I’m sorry, dear. I can’t help you with that. Why don’t we go downstairs to the kitchen and prepare some lunch?” She walks past me, and I pause before following. I need to get this woman, Thelma, to like me. If I can get her to warm to me, she might just help me get away from here.
“You live here too, do you, Thelma?” I ask, wanting to get as much information as possible from her.
“Yes, dear, I do. Have done so for quite a few years now. Mr. Black is a wonderful employer. Treats me very well. You will find living and working here is a breeze.” I stop in my tracks.
More words fall from my mouth than I intend. “What do you mean working here? I’m not one of his employees, Thelma. He kidnapped me. I’m here against my will. You need to help me get out of here and back to my family, please.”
Shaking her head, “Oh, heavens. That doesn’t sound right. Mr. Black would never do that to anyone. He is the kindest man I have ever met. As for your employment, you’re not going to be working in the same way I do, dear. You are the mistress of the house, so you will have chores of your own to do in order to keep a great house like this one running.”
I hurry up to catch up with her. “Mistress? You’re saying Mr. Black is married? I’m sure his wife won’t appreciate another woman being in her house. Take me to her now, please, Thelma. I would very much like to talk to her.”
“No, dear, he isn’t married. Mr. Black has told me that this house is as much yours as it is his. He is the master which is why you are the mistress of the house.” I think about what she said for a moment. I honestly hadn’t considered that. I thought I was his possession. That I was just a slave. But I’m not. If what Thelma’s saying is true, he’s giving me free rein of his home. In fact, not just free rein, but control over his household.
“If I am the mistress of the house, then doesn’t that mean what I say goes?” I ask, needing to see how much power I have in this new position.
“To a certain degree, yes, however Mr. Black will make the final decisions on most things.” Her green eyes are kind and motherly as she looks upon me.
“Where is Mr. Black? I need to speak with him as soon as possible,” I tell her as we walk into the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, dear, but that just won’t be possible right now. Mr. Black has left for business meetings already and he won’t be back for a couple of days. Don’t worry though, dear, I’ll be here to keep you company.” Thelma reaches out and gently squeezes my hand. I revel in the comfort she is trying to give me and offer her a small smile.
“Okay. I’ll take some comfort that I’m not being left alone in a house I’ve never been in before,” I respond.
She gives me a small smile before patting my hand. “Now, I’m sure you must be hungry. How about I fix you a nice salad for lunch?” she asks.
~ Chapter Four ~
Alexander
When we finally get homefrom the US, I lay her down on the bed, then sit beside her and watch for a moment. Her breathing comes in a beautiful calm rhythm, the rise and fall of her chest with every breath mesmerizes me. At the moment, she is peaceful. Unaware of what is to come with her new life. This room has been unoccupied since I first purchased the mansion fifteen years ago—I’ve never allowed a woman besides Thelma to enter. Somehow, I have always known I was waiting for someone. Waiting for her.
The flights were completely uneventful. The sedative did its job perfectly, staying in her system the entire time we were in the air and even while we landed at the Military airfield in Oxfordshire. The paperwork I had Agent Jones, a business associate from MI6 arrange for me worked a treat. Rebecca’s entry into the United Kingdom was granted, with no questions asked.
She starts to stir, so I take that as my cue to leave, placing the note I wrote on the airplane on the small coffee table before removing her mobile phone from the small bag she had with her at the gala. I place the bag under the chair so as to not be noticed right away. Not wanting to be caught here when she wakes, I quickly leave her room and close the door gently behind me, then make my way downstairs.
