CHAPTER 1
The early morning sun hit her face as she rolled over in bed, still feeling sleepy. Determined to sleep more, she pulled the duvet over her face.
Arielle
She heard her name being called from downstairs; she was about to ignore it, but then she heard her name again—sharp, urgent, and impossible to ignore. With a sigh, Arielle got up from the bed. She looked around the room: the faded curtains, the mattress, the old tiles—it reminded her of her reality.
Born into a poor family, life has never been a bed of roses. It was always one problem after another: school fees, rent, feeding, etc. There was never a moment of peace.
She said her morning prayer rather quickly and headed downstairs to meet her mother because she heard a strange voice from downstairs, and it somehow seemed like a serious argument was ongoing.
The living room came into view, where she saw a tall, handsome, intimidating, well-dressed man sitting on the sofa who seemed to be in a heated argument with her mom; obviously, their problem wasn't always ending.
She meant to ask her mother who this man was, but he beat her to it by introducing himself as 'Lucien Blackwood.'
The name echoed in her head like a bell. Everyone in the city knows the name, even if many couldn't recognize his face. Like Arielle, he is popularly known as a young billionaire in his late twenties: handsome, powerful, and feared, and he owns many companies in different parts of the world.
She was brought back into reality when she heard her mother's voice saying she had borrowed money for her father's operation before he passed away. 'I had no choice,' she lamented, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. 'I wanted to save him. I thought he would survive it,' she wailed. Arielle shifted closer to her mum, consoling her. She was only 17 years old when her father died.
Lucien Blackwood remained emotionless, his face unreadable. 'You failed to repay my money for three full years,' he said calmly."I have been lenient enough."
Arielle's chest tightened as memories flooded her mind, remembering her father on the sickbed, the hospital smell, his weak smile, and how he always encouraged her to be strong even in his weak state.
She looked up at Lucien with pleading eyes, telling him to give them more time, but it seemed his patience had been exhausted.
Her mother broke down completely, crying and begging him to give them more time.
Lucien shook his head, cleared his throat, and then he dropped the bomb: Arielle would have to be used as collateral for the debt, and as long as the debt was not being paid, Arielle would continue to be his property.
Arielle froze.
The room fell silent; even the drop of a needle could be heard.
"Me?" she asked.
"Yes, you," he replied. "You will work as a maid in my house."
Her mother disagreed, volunteering to go in place of Arielle, but Lucien wasn't having any of that.
"It is either Arielle or no one else," he said clearly.
Arielle inhaled deeply. "I'll do it," she said without mincing words, Lucien's lip curled up into a faint smile. "Good, you leave tonight. Start packing up; I will send someone to get you later." And with that, he stood up and walked out the door. And just like that, her life was taking a new turn within a minute.