My eyes opened slowly. For a second, I forgot where I was. Then I remembered, my family scandal, the gala, his command of moving into the same room as him.
I turned my head. The other side of the bed was empty. The sheets were pulled back neatly. I sat up, pushed the covers back and stood.
I walked toward the door, my reflection in the full length mirror of his room looked smaller without makeup and diamonds. My hair fell loose over my shoulders, and there were faint dark circles under my eyes. I looked like someone who hadn't slept in ages.
I opened the door, and stopped. The living room has been transformed. The living room which usually had only expensive furniture, and art pieces now had rows of racks of designer clothes. Trays were laid out on the coffee table that were shining with jewellery, watches, silk scarves folded into perfect squares. And three strangers were standing in the centre looking professional in their blue uniforms.
A woman stepped forward immediately.
"Mrs. Wang, Good morning."
I blinked.
"I…what is all this?"
"Mr. Wang's orders." She replied. "A new wardrobe appropriate for your role."
Appropriate for your role
The words felt like a slap.
"My role." I repeated slowly.
"Yes, madam." She gestured to the racks with her hand. "Mr. Wang felt your previous wardrobe was adequate for your former circumstances. But given recent developments, a change is necessary."
Former circumstances. As if my life had been divided into before and after by the scandal.
"I see."
"I am Anna." The woman continued. "Personal stylist. These are my associates…" She gestured to a younger woman with an iPad and a man adjusting a rack, "Miss Liu and Mr. Shen. We've been hired to ensure your public appearances reflect the appropriate image."
The appropriate image. Not my image but the one he wanted.
"When did he arrange this?" I asked.
"Last night, madam. After the gala. Mr. Wang called personally at eleven forty."
Eleven forty. While I lay in his bed, listening to him breathe, he'd been planning my renovation.
"How efficient."
"Mr. Wang is always efficient. Now, if you'll allow us, we will start. Mr. Wang specified that you'll be attending an investor lunch tomorrow, the charity auction on Saturday, and the press conference on Monday."
She spoke as if I were a doll being dressed for a series of staged photographs.
"Of course." I replied.
"Shall we begin?" Anna's smile was professional. "Unless you'd prefer to eat first? Mr. Wang left instructions for breakfast to be available whenever you woke."
Mr. Wang left instructions. For my clothes. For my clothes.
"No." I said. "Let's begin."
Because what else could I do? Refuse? Make a scene in front of strangers who were only doing their jobs?
Anna nodded.
"Excellent. Miss Liu, please bring the green qipao first. The one with the phoenix embroidery."
The woman moved, pulling a dress from the rack. It was traditional but modern. I stood there as they surrounded me for measurements.
"Arms up, madam."
I lifted them. The green qipao slid over my head. Miss Liu's fingers were at the side clasps, adjusting, and tucking. I stood still as a mannequin.
"Too loose at the waist." Anna observed. "Mark it for tailoring."
Miss Liu took a piece of chalk and made marks.
"This will be appropriate for the lunch."
"I already have clothes for the lunch," I said. "A cream suit."
"Mr. Wang has specified an updated aesthetic, Mrs. Wang. The previous wardrobe was suitable for quieter times but current circumstances require more deliberate choices." Anna said.
"I see." I murmured.
"Next piece." Anna said, as if I hadn't spoken.
They moved around me like a team. Pin here, adjust there, mark this, photograph that angle. I turned when told to turn. Lifted my arms when commanded. Let them drape me in silks and wools and cashmeres.
"The emerald pendant." Anna said, pointing at a tray. "Try it with this one."
Mr. Shen fastened it around my neck. The stone was heavy.
"Better. But the earrings are wrong. Miss Liu, the pearl drops."
I wanted to say I prefer the jade ones. I wanted to say I don't like emeralds. But the words dried up in my throat because it didn't matter what I preferred.
This wasn't pampering. Pampering meant care, consideration, asking what I wanted. This was something else. This was my erasure dressed up as generosity.
They stripped me down and built me back up, into something that looked like me but wasn't.
Not that I'd been much. Just a wife who wore proper clothes and attended the parties and smiled when expected. But at least those clothes had been mine. Chosen by me, on shopping trips I'd taken alone, in colors I actually liked. Now even that small freedom was gone.
The pile of approved clothing grew on one side of the room. The unsuitable pile which included most of my actual wardrobe, grew on the other.
"What happens to those?" I asked, gesturing to my old clothes.
"Donation." Anna said without looking up from her notes. "Unless there are pieces of sentimental value you wish to keep?"
I looked at the pile. My favorite red sweater, the blue dress I'd worn on my first meeting with Asher, the simple black jacket I'd bought before the wedding.
"The red sweater." I said. "And the black jacket."
Anna nodded to Miss Liu, who picked them with the care, and handed them to me.
They dressed me again and again.
"How much?" I asked suddenly, startling them. "How much is all of this?"
"I'm not certain that's…"
"How much?"
She glanced at her iPad, tapped a few times.
"Approximately 2.3 million yuan, before tailoring adjustments."
The number was huge.
"Mr. Wang was very generous." Anna said, as if generosity were measured in zeros.
By the time they finished, three hours had passed. The racks had been sorted into immediate use and seasonal storage. A binder had been created with photographs of each outfit with appropriate accessories and occasions.
"Your schedule for the week." Anna said, handing me the binder. "Each day's wardrobe has been pre selected. Of course, if you have preferences, adjustments can be made."
If you have preferences.
We both knew adjustments would only be made if they aligned with what Asher wanted.
"Thank you."
"It's our pleasure, Mrs. Wang. We'll return tomorrow to ensure everything fits after tailoring. Mr. Wang has also requested weekly consultations going forward."
They packed up and within fifteen minutes,and left. The living room looked normal again.
I stood alone in the living room, still wearing the last outfit they'd tried on me. It was a soft gray cashmere dress. I looked down at the binder.
On the first page,written in Anna's handwriting: Monday - Press Conference - Red Power Suit - Project Confidence and Loyalty.
Project.
That's what I was now. A project.
I set the binder down on the coffee table and walked towards the window. The woman in the glass looked like she belonged in this penthouse but she looked nothing like me. It made me anxious.
I needed to hear a familiar voice. Someone who knew me before I became a project. I decide to call my mother again. I wasn't able to contact my mother and my father after the scandal broke out.
I turned from the window and headed toward my old bedroom to grab my phone. But when I reached the nightstand where I'd left it last night, there was nothing there. I frowned, checking the other side. I checked everywhere. But it was nowhere to be seen.
I walked towards the kitchen thinking maybe I forgot it there when I came to drink water, and there, on the counter was a phone but it wasn't mine.
Was it of Asher?
My hand trembled slightly as I picked it up.The screen glowed up immediately, recognizing my face which meant someone had already programmed it. The wallpaper was simple gray. There were no apps. It looked bland. In contacts, there was only one number. It was of Asher. A message notification appeared:
Your old number has been deactivated. This is your phone now. My number is the only one you require.
I read it once. Twice. Three times.
I stood there in the kitchen, holding a phone that felt like a leash. This wasn't protection. This wasn't even control. This was isolation. He'd dressed me in clothes worth millions and locked me in a box where the only voice I could hear was his.
My thumb hovered over the message. I could text back, and argue. Demand my old number be reactivated. Tell him this was too much.
But who would I be texting? The man who'd arranged all of this while I slept? The man who'd decided that I didn't require anyone but him? What would I even say that he'd want to hear?
I typed back.
Understood.
I hit send and watched the message delivered, read within seconds.
Good. I'll be home at 7. We have dinner with the Zhao family at 8. Wear the navy qipao.
I set the phone down and looked at the window showing a city full of people I could no longer reach. I sat on the floor feeling alone than I'd ever been in my life.
I didn't know how long I sat there. Eventually, I stood. Smoothed down the cashmere dress that had wrinkled, and sat on the sofa. I placed the phone beside me.
I should have gotten ready by now. But I couldn't move. At 6:45 PM, I heard the elevator. I straightened automatically. The elevator doors opened.
Asher stepped out, his hair slightly messed as if he'd run his fingers through. He looked tired.
He set his briefcase down, pulled off his tie, and then he scanned the room. Finally, his eyes landed on me.
"I see you've been busy." He said in casual way.
I said nothing.
He walked towards me, and picked up the phone from beside me. He swiped through it.
Checking what? My messages? My call log?
I watched his face as he reviewed whatever he saw there. The single message I'd sent. The absence of any sign that I'd tried to reach the outside world he'd cut me off from.
"Good."
He set the phone back down, not beside me this time, but on the coffee table next to the binder. Then he turned to face me.
"Be ready at 7 AM tomorrow. You're coming to the office with me."
I blinked, the words not quite landing.
"The office?"
"Yes." He loosened button of his shirt. "It's time you started earning your keep."
The phrase hit like a slap.
Earning your keep.
"I don't understand," I said.
His head tilted slightly, studying me.
"You're my wife, Rysa. With your family's current situation, you need to do what I say."
"What exactly do you want me to do?" I asked.
"Be present. Be visible. Show the board, the investors, the media that we're united. That you're not just decorative wife but a useful wife. We have dinner with the Zhao family in an hour." He continued, glancing at his watch. "You should get ready. The navy qipao, as I mentioned. Hair up. The pearl set, not the diamonds, we want elegance, not ostentation."
Instructions. Always instructions.
He started walking toward the bedroom but then paused.
"Oh, and Rysa?"
I looked up at him.
"7 AM means 6:45. I don't wait. You're meeting the executive team."
Then he disappeared into the bedroom, leaving me sitting on the sofa with the phone and the binder. This was never about protecting me from scandal. This was about protecting his investment.