After the tense and quiet breakfast with Lucien, I knew I had to fulfill his expectations and clean the kitchen thoroughly. The lingering taste of his authority still clung to me, and I couldn't afford to disappoint him. I began by clearing the dirty dishes from the dining table, carrying them to the sink. The clinking of plates and utensils seemed to mock me, a reminder of the relentless cycle of servitude I had become trapped in. The sink was piled high with dishes, remnants of meals by others, even the maids. I rolled up my sleeves, took a deep breath, and started to scrub them one by one. The sound of water splashing and the scent of soap filled the room as I worked diligently. With each dish I cleaned, I couldn't help but think of the immense pressure I was under. The burden of being Lucien's submissive mistress was crushing, and I had to prove myself every day. Could he not just see that I was doing enough already? Once the dishes were finally clean and stacked neatly in the drying rack, I turned my attention to the countertops he had asked me to clean. They were littered with crumbs and stains, evidence of past meals that had left their mark. I reached for a sponge and began to scrub vigorously, trying to erase every trace of imperfection. As I worked, I couldn't help but wonder if my efforts would ever be enough to satisfy Lucien's expectations. He was an alpha with impossibly high standards, and I was constantly struggling to meet them. I knew I was being punished intentionally. "It really hurts", I sobbed gently. I felt like a maid, a live-in maid, and it made me feel terrible. One of my loyal maids sneaked into the kitchen to assist me. Luciem had warned them not to help and I feared what would happen if he found her with me. "Leave please, " I warn "I can't , I can't let you suffer like this, I've been watching you suffer and I can't do that anymore." She insisted. "You know what will happen if you are found here. Please leave," I pleaded. Reluctantly, she walked away, almost teary. "I'm sorry," she added, and walked away even before I could give her a reply. I felt sad. Sad that I was being treated this way, but I decided to shake it off and do what I'm expected to do.. Finally, I moved on to the floor, sweeping away any loose crumbs and debris. It was a tedious task, but I knew that I had to leave no room for criticism. The room had to be spotless, a reflection of my commitment to serving him. The kitchen gradually transformed from a cluttered mess to a pristine space. I stepped back to survey my work, hoping that it would meet Lucien's approval. Just as I finished, he entered the kitchen, his eyes scanning the room for any imperfections. I held my breath, waiting for his verdict. Lucien's expression was stern, but he nodded in approval, "Good, Corrigan. You've done well this time, I would give you a 6/10." I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that this task had met his expectations. It was a small victory, a fleeting moment of validation. I didn't bother about the score at all. At least I didn't have to redo anything. With a sense of relief, "Thank you, can I leave please. I hurt a finger while cleaning, I need to attend to it." He turned to leave, his authority firm "Remember, Corrigan, your duties as my mate come before anything else." I nodded, a sense of determination in my voice,"I won't forget." As Lucien left the room, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. The burden of my role as his submissive mate was unrelenting, but I was determined to prove myself, to show that I could meet his expectations. ***** The night had fallen, casting the room in a dim, dusky light. Lucien and I were alone, the air heavy with tension. It was clear that he had something on his mind, and I waited nervously for him to speak. Lucien's gaze was piercing, his gray eyes locked onto mine. He leaned forward, his expression a mix of curiosity and impatience. "Why did you reject me, Corrigan?" Lucien's voice was cold and demanding. The question was out of nowhere, but I had to answer it. "Maybe it would save me from his torment," I thought. I swallowed hard, my voice trembling as I replied, "I was young, and I made a terrible mistake." Lucien's patience wore thin, and he leaned in, his voice sharp, "Mistake? What kind of mistake?" Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to find an answer. I had no reason for rejecting him, but I couldn't admit that I had been foolish and impulsive. "Speak up, Corrigan," Lucien scolded me severely, his anger palpable. "I..." I began, but my voice trailed off. I had no valid excuse, and I knew it. Lucien's anger boiled over, and he slammed his hand against the table, making me jump. "Your rejection nearly destroyed me, Corrigan," he shouted, his fury unleashed. "Do you have any idea what I went through during my exile? The pain and loneliness I endured because of you?" Tears streamed down my face as I sat in silence, unable to provide a reasonable explanation for my actions. Lucien's anger seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of weariness. "You can't undo the past, Corrigan," he said with a heavy sigh. "You can't erase the years we've lost." I nodded, a sense of determination filling my heart. This was the first step in a journey of redemption, a path I was willing to follow, no matter how difficult it might be. "I'll do whatever it takes, Lucien," I vowed with sincerity. "I won't run away from you again." As the night deepened, the room felt less oppressive, and I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. The conversation had been painful, but it was a necessary step on the path toward reconciliation.
