Remi POV
Husband?
That word caught me off guard.
Maybe because they both looked young, so I just assumed they were dating or something casual.
But then again, this man lived in a freaking mansion — a mansion that was at least three times the size of my stepfather's house.
And my stepfather was loaded.
Clearly, this guy was on a whole different level.
Like, billionaire level.
Also, it was pretty common among rich people to get married early. I mean, if I was this loaded, I would too. What else would I even be waiting for?
I blinked and quickly masked my surprise with a small, polite smile. "N-no. He was… he was really kind, actually," I replied, and she laughed lightly before stepping aside to let us both inside.
I stepped into the mansion, and if you thought it looked big from the outside, it was nothing compared to the inside.
The floors were marble, the ceilings were so high I felt like I had to tilt my head all the way back to see them, and there were giant paintings and gold accents everywhere. A grand staircase curled up to the second floor like something straight out of a fairytale.
I barely had time to soak it all in before I noticed something else.
There were multiple staff members lined up neatly by the door, all dressed in black and white uniforms.
It was late; I was sure it was past midnight, yet they were all standing there like they had been waiting for us.
It made me quite uncomfortable, so I smiled and gave a small wave, trying to be polite.
But none of them smiled back.
Instead, they just stared at me coldly.
Awkwardly, I lowered my hand, and my cheeks burned in embarrassment.
"The maid will take you to your room," the man—my rescuer—said, turning to leave.
"Can I make a phone call?" I asked, and his steps faltered while I noticed the woman's gaze harden.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. Hoping I hadn't misspoken, I rushed to add, "I need to contact my dad so he'll know I'm okay. He probably doesn't even know I got kidnapped."
For a second, no one said anything.
The man finally turned fully to face me, wearing an unreadable expression. "There are no phones here," he said simply.
My eyes widened. "What? Then…" My gaze shifted to the staff again. "How do you communicate?" I asked, my voice coming out more panicked than I intended.
I mean, a place this big, with this many people working here, had to have at least one landline somewhere, right?
He tilted his head slightly, like he was studying me. "We do things more traditionally around here… it's complicated," he said after a moment.
Traditionally? What did that even mean?
He must have seen the confusion on my face because he continued, "If you really want to make a call, I would have to drive you into town. There's a place nearby where you could use a phone."
My heart lifted a little at that—until he added, "But it's already very late. It would be rude to go knocking on a stranger's door at this hour, don't you think?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I mean, technically, he was right. I wouldn't exactly want some random people showing up at my door past midnight either.
"So we'll wait until morning," he said. "I promise." He added with a reassuring smile, and I nodded.
It didn't seem like I had much of a choice anyway.
Without another word, he turned and walked away down the long hallway with his arm wrapped around his wife's waist.
I opened my mouth, about to call after him again. I didn't even know his name yet—but they were already out of sight.
Seriously?
Before I could panic, two men appeared behind me. I tensed up immediately, but then a young woman approached me, bowing her head.
"This way," she muttered.
Her long, messy hair covered half of her face, so I couldn't really make out what she looked like. She didn't even look up once as she led me through the hall that looked more like a maze.
Finally, she stopped in front of a door, pushed it open, and gestured for me to enter.
I stepped inside, and I gasped.
The room was huge, bigger than my entire apartment in college. The bed looked like it belonged to royalty, with thick velvet sheets and a dozen fluffy pillows.
Without even thinking about it, I collapsed onto the bed, not caring that my clothes were dirty or that my hair was a mess. For the first time all day, I felt safe.
Or at least safer than I had been a few hours ago.
I was drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness when I heard a soft knock.
Before I could answer, the door creaked open, and an older woman stepped inside, carrying a tray of food.
My stomach growled the moment I smelled the delicious aroma filling the room, but then my brow furrowed.
The two guards from earlier had followed her inside and were now standing stiffly by the door like statues.
Why were they here? Wasn't she just bringing me dinner? I thought, but quickly got distracted as the older woman set the tray down on the small table by the bed. "Eat," she said simply.
I pushed myself up on my elbows.
"T-thank you…"
I was just about to take a bite when I heard the woman mutter under her breath as she poured me a glass of water.
"Don't eat it."
My hand froze with the spoon just inches from my mouth. I blinked, unsure if I had heard her correctly. My gaze shifted to her, but she wasn't even looking at me. If anything, she was calm, as though she hadn't just said something out of the ordinary, and she continued pouring water.
For some reason, my hands began to tremble, and I slowly set the spoon down, keeping my eyes glued to her every move.
I don't know why, but the room suddenly felt smaller and suffocating. Even the steaming bowl of food now seemed more like a threat.
In an attempt to steady myself, my hand knocked the tray, and it went tumbling to the floor. The sound made me jump back in panic.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, bending down to help clean up the mess.
But before I could grab the pieces, the woman also bent down. I watched her eyes dart nervously to the door, then back to me.
And she whispered, "Run… get out of here."