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Chapter 4 - Nightmares

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Sixteen years old Genevieve knelt in the center of a lavish, princess-like room draped in soft pinks and delicate silks, her trembling hands clutching the satin hem of her dress. Tears blurred her vision as she stared at her mother's almost lifeless body sprawled across the polished marble floor, a crimson pool spreading beneath her like a dark, wilting rose.

''Go, Eve! Your aunt will be waiting for you at the back entrance. Leave now... before it's too late."

She shook her head vehemently. ''No, Mama," she refused. "You are hurt. You have been shot. I can't leave you alone here until the doctor arrives.''

''No…'' A splutter of coughs rented the air, followed by the racking sound of Genevieve's sobs, which seemed to be increasing as the seconds passed.

''Don't say anything, Ma. It's only making matters worse…''

The sound of multiple gunshots rented the air, and the words died on Genevieve's lips. Still numb with shock, she was pushed into the nearest open door, and could only watch the door close as the life slowly seeped out of her mother's eyes, the older woman's head hitting the floor.

"Mummyyyyy!" a numbing scream tore from Genevieve's lips.

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''Mistress? Mistress, wake up! Mistress!"

Genevieve's eyes flew open to an unfamiliar environment, her brows knitting in confusion as she scanned the room. White ceilings loomed overhead, cream-colored walls surrounded her, and sunlight filtered through half-drawn, billowy curtains. Her breath caught as her gaze landed on a stranger's face hovering just above hers.

The face was owned by a middle-aged woman who looked like she had been getting ready to stab Genevieve in the face, if the latter had woken up from her sleep any later than the moment she actually did.

''Hello...?" she murmured in a careful tone. "Who are you? And where am I? Where's Aunt Anna?''

''Good morning, Mistress. I am Penelope, the head maid in this mansion, and from today on, I will also be the one in charge of serving you,'' the woman replied, purposefully ignoring Genevieve's questions.

''Head maid? How did I…'' Genevieve started to fire off another round of questions, but trailed off as memories of the previous day rushed into her mind.

From the moment in the hot afternoon when she was sold from the orphanage to the bald auctioneer, to the auction hall, to the moment when she met the very handsome… no, he had a name, Adrian.

From meeting Adrian, the drama surrounding their meeting, to meeting his father—her new husband—and… what happened after that?

She shook her head, unable to remember anything after that, and concluded that they must have brought her here to their home.

'Husband and stepson,' the words resounded in her mind. Who got married without a wedding anyways? Well, it seemed anything was possible in the underworld.

Her scared eyes lowered to her body, and noticing that she was still wearing the skimpy red dress from last, she could not help but release a relieved sigh. Thank goodness her new 'husband' had not taken the liberty of helping her change or taken advantage of her while she was unconscious.

Sure, him taking advantage of her was something she wouldn't be able to avoid as days and weeks passed by, but she still hoped she could delay it as much as possible.

''Are you ignoring me right now, Young lady?''

Genevieve snapped out of her thoughts to see that the head maid, Penelope, was now glaring at her with a full blown angered expression. She hurriedly apologised,

''Oh, I'm so sorry. I was just lost in thought for a moment there.'' It didn't occur to her for the slightest second that the way Penelope just addressed her was a little odd for a maid, considering her position as her boss's wife… or woman.

''Well, that must not happen again," Penelope warned, tilting her chin up haughtily. "I am here this morning under the Don's order to help you get ready for breakfast. After breakfast, I am to take you on a tour around the house to help you know the places you are free to visit and the places you must not be found in... no matter what reason you may have for going there.'' She added the last few words as an afterthought.

Before the maid was done talking, Genevieve was already getting out of bed and slipping her feet into the bedside slippers.

''What do I have to do first?'' she asked seriously.

''Maybe getting your ass into the bathroom for a good scrub would be an okay start,'' Penelope replied, eyeing her up and down without bothering to hide the disgust in her tone.

Genevieve froze, her brows furrowing in displeasure at the blatant disrespect, but when she reminded herself that she was in an unfamiliar territory and had no idea how things worked here, she decided to relax and simply follow instructions, even if it came from someone who seemed to hate her for no reason.

She rose to her feet and looked at the two doors that were positioned side by side in one part of the room, far from the one that looked like it led out of the room.

''Which of them is the bath—'' she started to ask, but was cut off almost immediately.

''The one on the right,'' Penelope stated. She pointed at a pile of clothes on one corner of the queen sized bed and said, ''Wear that when you are done in the bathroom. I will be waiting here for you.''

Half an hour later, Genevieve stood in front of the mirror, her head tilted sligtly as she studied herself in the mirror. Pale skin from incessant scrubbing for the past half hour, messy red hair pulled into a ponytail, blue eyes dull from the events of the previous day, and an oversized white dress that looked like it was from the late 20th century.

Her somewhat skinny appearance, coupled with the dress, made her look like a ghost.

''Will you stand in front of the mirror forever or come with me now?''

Not bothering to reply to the snarky maid, Genevieve turned away from the mirror and padded across the room to the door where the former was standing.

''I'm ready,'' she said, smoothing the surface of her dress nervously.

Without another word, both mistress and maid stepped out onto the hallway and started the long and arduous journey through the mansion.

''Here in the east wing where your room is situated, is also where the Don's daughter and niece's rooms are. In short, this wing is where the noble women of the family stay. And since you will be staying in the late mistress's room—heaven knows why—I guess you can also be categorized as one of the noble women,'' Penelope started. She gesticulated wildly, pointing out each rooms as they passed by it, ''The other rooms here are the drawing room, music room, and tea room, but since you are not expected to entertain any visitors, you should not be found in any of those rooms."

Genevieve nodded, and Penny continued, ''The Don's daughter doesn't like to see people, so do not attempt to even visit her room except you want your face permanently scarred. As for his niece, if you see her going left, turn right. If she's going right, turn left. And if she calls out to you, run as fast as you can. Not to her, but away from her.''

"Why is that?" Genevieve asked, genuine curiosity evident in her tone. It was worse enough that she had to be wary of the men in this house since they were dangerous mafia men, but she had to be wary of the women too?!

"Don't ask questions!" Penelope snapped.

"But—"

The maid stopped dead in her tracks, turning abruptly to face Genevieve.

"Now you're talking back?" she asked, raising a challenging brow.

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