The drive home was quiet. My family sat in the living room, trying not to stare too hard, as if their eyes could somehow slow the inevitable. My father's hands trembled slightly as he handed me my suitcase.
"Are you sure you have everything?" he asked, voice tight.
"I think so," I replied, forcing calm I didn't feel.
My younger sister hugged me quickly. "Be careful," she whispered, her small arms tight around me.
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I wanted to reassure them, to say this wasn't as bad as it felt, but I knew better. Alexander Black didn't do comfort. He did control.
When the driver arrived, I glanced back at the house, the familiar walls that had protected me my whole life. My father's anxious gaze followed me to the car, my sister waving from the doorway, my mother clutching her hands as if she could pray me into safety.
"Don't forget…" I murmured, voice breaking slightly, "I love you."
They waved, but no words could capture the weight of what I was about to walk into.
The city blurred past. Houses, streets, and people moved obliviously through their lives.I felt untethered, suspended in a world that wasn't mine. My thoughts kept returning to his words:
"You're here because I need you. Don't mistake that for weakness."
The memory sent a shiver through me. Need. Not want. Not love. Need. And yet there was something in the way he had looked at me, quiet and intense, that had made my stomach tighten.
I tried to push the thought away as the gates of his estate came into view. Black iron twisting into sharp patterns, tall and intimidating. The mansion beyond was vast, its lights reflecting off polished glass as though daring anyone to enter.
The driver pulled up, opening the door. My suitcase felt heavier than it was. Each step toward the double doors felt deliberate, each echo amplifying my heartbeat.
Alexander was waiting. He stood in the foyer, arms crossed, motionless, eyes sharp. His presence swallowed the space, as if the mansion itself existed around him.
"Follow me," he said, voice smooth and precise.
I obeyed, dragging my suitcase, nerves taut. The hallway stretched ahead, long and lined with polished marble, the walls decorated with abstract art I didn't understand. Everything screamed control. Everything was his.
"You will stay in the guest wing," he said without looking at me. "Room thirty-two. Staff will show you."
"Should I unpack?" My voice felt fragile.
"You should do whatever you are told," he said flatly. "This is my house. My rules. Read the contract again if that is not clear."
I bit my lip, trying to steady my shaking hands. "I understand."
He finally moved, walking ahead. Each step echoed through the cavernous hallway. I followed, careful, as if one wrong move could break the fragile balance he had set.
The staff appeared silently, leading my suitcase to the room. Alexander paused just inside the doorway.
"This will be your room," he said. "It is fully equipped. You will not need anything else. Any requests must be made to staff. Failure to comply will be noted."
The room was immaculate king-sized bed, wardrobe that could hold a small army, desk, chair. Modern, minimal, precise. Nothing personal, nothing warm. Perfectly controlled. Perfectly his.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He nodded, but his eyes lingered on me for a fraction longer than necessary. "You are here because I need you," he said quietly, almost a repeat of what he said before. "Do not mistake that for weakness. People who mistake my intentions usually regret it."
My stomach tightened. I nodded, because nodding was easier than responding, easier than admitting I was scared, easier than admitting I felt… something I couldn't name.
"Dinner is at eight," he added, glancing briefly at my phone. "Dress appropriately."
And then he was gone.
I sank onto the bed, letting the room's silence press against me. I thought of my family waving goodbye. I thought of my father's worried face, my sister's small hands, my mother's quiet prayers. I had left them for this. I had agreed to survive in a world that was not mine, under a man I barely knew but who already held more power over me than anyone ever had.
I unpacked quickly, methodically. Everything had to have its place. There was no room for hesitation here, not if I wanted to survive.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Staff organized the room, explained the mansion, the rules, the routines. Every movement reminded me that I was in Alexander's world, and he was always watching.
When evening came, he returned, dressed in a tailored suit, moving through the halls with the same precise, controlled steps that seemed to define him.
"Dinner," he said again, his voice breaking the silence of the mansion.
I followed him down the marble stairs. The dining room was vast, elegant, and intimidating. Candles flickered, but the warmth they provided did not reach the cold distance in his eyes. He sat at the head of the table, I at the opposite side, formality and distance creating an invisible wall between us.
Silence stretched. I felt exposed under his gaze, each thought and hesitation magnified. I wanted to disappear, but I had no choice. I had signed the contract. I had chosen this life.
Finally, he spoke. "You will follow my rules. You will obey, not because you fear me, but because this arrangement works best that way. You have a role. I have mine. Do not confuse the two."
"Yes," I said, steadier now.
"Good," he said. "Your life here is temporary, but your behavior will determine how long you remain comfortable. Do not test me."
I nodded, though my heart still raced. Was this fear, anticipation, or something I didn't want to admit?
After dinner, he left without another word, and I returned to my room. I sat on the edge of the bed, looking out over the sprawling estate, thinking of my family back home. I had left everything familiar for a man who needed me, and whose intentions were a dangerous puzzle I was only beginning to piece together.
Survive first. Understand second. And perhaps, somewhere deep inside, something I hadn't allowed myself to feel yet: curiosity.
Because no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't ignore the pull of the man who had already claimed more than my signature.