Then Naira walked in.
White dress. Red eyes. Perfect tears.
“Please, Calen, Jason,” she said softly. “She’s our sister too. Isn’t this too cruel?”
She sniffled and wiped her eyes like she couldn’t stand to watch me suffer.
And somehow, they started to feel sorry for her.
I laughed, even with blood in my mouth.
“You’re so good, Naira. Why don’t you become an actress? You’d win a FAMAS award for sure.”
Calen slapped me again, harder.
Jason pulled Naira close, like she was the one who needed comfort.
“Please don’t hurt her anymore,” she said, pretending to cry into his chest. “She doesn’t mean it. She’s just upset.”
I stared at them... my brothers who used to protect me, now completely blind. They couldn’t see me anymore. Only the monster she made them believe I was. And Naira stood there, crying fake tears, knowing she’d won.
....
Then one day, Naira got accepted into a fashion school in Paris, the whole house changed.
For the first time in years, everything was quiet.
My brothers stopped yelling. They stopped hitting me. They just… stopped caring.
No more punishments. No more basement.
They looked past me like I wasn’t even there.
Like I was just a shadow that somehow kept moving.
It should’ve felt peaceful.
But silence can hurt too.
I started studying in secret, late at night when everyone slept. Old books from the library, stolen papers from Jason’s office. I didn’t know why I was doing it. Maybe just to remember I could still think. Turns out, I was good at it. I learned fast. But what’s the point of being smart when you’re locked in a house you can’t escape?
Months passed like that.
The maids barely looked at me anymore.
“Poor thing,” one whispered once. “She used to be the young miss.”
Another laughed. “Now she can’t even lift her head.”
A third muttered as I walked by, “If I were her, I’d run away and never come back.”
I wished I could.
Then one evening, everything shifted again.
Calen called a meeting at the dining hall. Everyone was running around, cleaning, shouting orders. The chandelier was polished, silverware changed twice.
“The Langford company is partnering with the Vale Corporation,” one of the maids said, eyes wide. “They say it’s huge.”
I froze when I heard the next whisper.
“The heir’s coming himself,” another said. “Dane Vale. He ruined three companies just because they crossed him.”
Even the guards looked nervous that night. The whole mansion smelled of polish and fear.
Calen told me to serve wine during the dinner. “Stay quiet,” he said. “Don’t talk unless spoken to.”
So I stood by the wall when they arrived.
Dane Vale walked in first.
Tall. Cold. His eyes were dark red under the light—sharp enough to cut through the air. The whole room went still. Even Calen looked smaller next to him.
Jason laughed too loudly, trying to sound friendly. Calen kept talking about numbers and deals. But Dane didn’t seem to care. He barely nodded, just watched them like he already knew their worth.
When it was my turn to pour the wine, I walked over, trying not to shake. My hands trembled anyway.
He looked up.
Our eyes met for one second. Maybe less. But it was enough.
He didn’t look at me like I was a servant.
He looked at me like he saw something he recognized. Like he saw me.
My heart stopped.
Jason noticed and laughed again. “Don’t mind her, Mr. Vale. That’s one of our servants.”
Dane didn’t answer right away. His gaze stayed on me for a beat longer, and I had to look away before my brothers noticed the way I couldn’t breathe.
That was the first time in ten years someone looked at me and didn’t see a ghost.
Weeks passed after that dinner.
Dane Vale kept coming back to the mansion for meetings with Calen and Jason. He never spoke to me, never even looked at me directly. But sometimes I could feel it... his eyes. Watching quietly from across the room, studying, unreadable.
Calen looked nervous whenever Dane was around. Jason, on the other hand, seemed angry for reasons I didn’t understand.
One afternoon, I was told to stay in the kitchen while they had a meeting. But the door was slightly open, and I could hear everything.
Dane’s voice was calm. “I want her.”
The glass I was holding almost slipped from my hands.
Dane wants me?
Jason’s voice rose, “You can’t be serious! She’s a servant. She’s a murderer. She killed our parents. She doesn’t deserve your time or money.”
Dane didn’t react. “You’ll get the billion dollar contract if you agree.”
There was silence. Then I heard Calen say, after a long pause, “Fine. If that’s what it takes.”
Jason didn’t speak for a while, then muttered something low. Agreement.
My stomach twisted. I didn’t understand what they meant until Calen called me into the living room.
He didn’t look at me when he spoke. “Pack your things. You’re leaving with Mr. Vale.”
I froze. “Leaving?”
Jason walked over, grabbed my arm so hard it hurt. His voice was low but sharp enough to slice through the air. “You better behave around him. Dane doesn’t like clumsy, stupid girls. And he sure as hell doesn’t like murderers.”
I nodded, my voice stuck in my throat. His grip tightened for a second before he let go and turned away without another word.
I went back to my small room and started to pack. Five sets of clothes, all worn and torn from years of washing. No jewelry. No perfume. No shoes that really fit. I folded them slowly, hands shaking, not because I was scared but because I didn’t know what came next.
Before I left, I looked around the room one last time. The cracked walls, the broken lamp, the thin blanket that never kept me warm. The place that took everything from me.
Then I closed the door.
.....
The car ride with Dane was silent. He sat beside me, calm, unreadable, watching my reflection in the window. I didn’t know what he saw. Maybe just a girl who had nothing left to lose.
When we reached his mansion, I couldn’t believe it. The air was clean. The lights were soft. No shouting. No footsteps chasing me down the hall. No eyes filled with hate.
He turned to me. “Here, no one can hurt you.”
Something broke inside me. I started to cry, real tears that wouldn’t stop. I didn’t even know what I was crying for.... fear, relief, or the fact that someone finally said I’d be safe.
He then stepped closer and pulled me into his arms. His chest was warm, steady. My hands gripped his coat like it was the only thing keeping me from falling.
He whispered, “Would you believe me if I said I fell in love with you?”
I wanted to. I needed to.
So I nodded, still crying, my tears soaking into his shirt.
He tilted my chin up and kissed me. Gentle at first, then deeper, stronger. It felt like warmth after a lifetime of cold.
That night, I gave him everything. On the sofa, in the quiet light of his home, I gave him the only thing I still owned—myself.
I thought it was love.
I thought it was freedom.
But it was only the beginning of another kind of cage.
