“You’re asking me why I want a divorce, Darius?!” I screamed. “You brought your mistress into our home! You let her walk these halls like she owns them, carrying the child I couldn’t give you! You made me her maid, made me give her my blood while I was sick! You stripped me of everything, my pride, my voice, my worth! I just want to be free! Go ahead, marry her. Just set me free!”
But Darius did not flinch. His eyes were cold and sharp, filled with something darker than hate. He pointed at me and said, “No. You’re not leaving me, Rosella. You will stay. You will raise Sasha’s child. You will stand by my side, no matter what.”
I shook my head, my chest rising and falling. “And if I refuse? What then? I filed the divorce, Darius. You can’t undo that.”
His silence was chilling. Slowly, he gave a cruel smile. “Then I have no other choice.”
He whistled sharply. The door opened, and his men filed in, no words spoken. My chest tightened with shock and confusion.
“Lock my wife up,” he ordered, as if this was perfectly normal. “Make sure she doesn’t escape.”
“What?!” I staggered back, stunned. “You would resort to this, Darius? Are you trying to make this worse?”
He grinned at me. Sasha was standing beside him, equally stunned. None of us expected this.
“Yes. If that means I can keep you beside me and stop you from divorcing me…” He signaled to the men who grabbed me by my arms. “Lock her up now.”
“Let me go! Desmond!” I shouted at the one man I trusted. He looked at me with guilt. “Desmond, please! Help me!”
They dragged me to a small, dark room in the mansion’s narrow wing, the place for those who crossed Darius or me.
I whispered to myself in the dark, “If I escape, you will never touch me again…”
He truly locked me away, leaving just enough food and water to survive. He didn’t even visit during the first week. I had to adjust to the dim light.
I spent days crying, with no one to call, not even my only friend who could help. I was suffocating when I heard the door creak open.
I looked up, terrified. Was it Darius?
“Please, help me…” I whispered, but my hope faded when I saw Desmond.
“Luna…” he murmured, motioning for me to stay quiet.
I followed him. “Help me…” I mouthed.
He didn’t answer but pulled a key from his pocket and stepped closer. My heart surged with hope.
“I’ll help you escape, but you can’t get caught. Your plane ticket is in this bag.” He handed me a small pouch.