Chapter 35: Chapter Thirty Five.

The soft warmth of the morning sun touched Xena’s face, pulling her from the depths of her sleep.

Her brows furrowed as she heard faint whispers, slowly surfacing from her dreams.

With a groggy hiss, she opened her eyes, squinting against the bright rays streaming in through the large window. 

“Oh goodness, we’re so sorry!” a familiar voice exclaimed. 

The sound of rustling curtains followed, and soon the sunlight that had been assaulting her vision was gone.

Blinking, Xena’s eyes adjusted to the softer light, and she was met with the sight of Alina and Zoya standing near the window, their faces bright with polite smiles. 

“Good morning, madam.” Zoya greeted cheerfully. 

Xena sat up, her eyes immediately drifting to the cold, empty space beside her on the bed.

Viktor was gone, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. She wasn’t ready to deal with his intensity, not so early in the day. 

“What time is it?” she asked softly, her voice still heavy with sleep. 

“You slept very well, madam.” Zoya replied. “It’s 10 a.m. You skipped breakfast, but Don instructed us not to disturb you until you woke up on your own. He also asked us to ensure you’re well taken care of.” 

Xena’s brows knitted together. Viktor told them that? The thought made her uneasy.

Alina stepped forward with a gentle smile. “We’ll run you a bath, madam, and help you get ready. After that, we’ll take you downstairs to eat. You must be hungry.” 

Xena looked at them, slightly bewildered by their eagerness.

“Thank you.” she said hesitantly, “but you really don’t need to do that. I can handle my personal routine myself.” 

Her words seemed to hang heavily in the air. Alina and Zoya exchanged quick, saddened glances before Zoya finally spoke again, her voice softer now.

“Of course, madam. Please, come down when you’re ready.” 

Without another word, the two turned to leave. As Zoya walked out, her head slightly bowed, Alina gave Xena a small, almost apologetic smile before gently shutting the door behind her. 

Xena exhaled a long sigh, guilt creeping into her chest.

*Was I too harsh on them?* she wondered. They had only been trying to help, after all. They hadn’t done anything wrong. 

“They’re just being friendly.” Xena muttered to herself as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “And I’ve turned them down twice now... no wonder they looked so disheartened.” 

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she stood up and stretched, the tension from her restless night slowly easing from her muscles.

Her gaze briefly fell on the luxurious room, every detail a reminder of the world she had unwillingly been thrust into. 

With a soft sigh, she made her way to the washroom. The cold tiles under her feet jolted her fully awake as she splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth, going through her morning routine.

♧♧♧

"She’s so beautiful and clearly not from around here. Her accent is so soft, like music." Zoya gushed, her voice carrying a hint of admiration as she sliced vegetables on the counter. 

Alina, who was setting the tableware on a tray, nodded thoughtfully.

"Yes, but did you notice how sad she seems? It’s like she doesn’t want to be here." She sighed, glancing over her shoulder toward the staircase leading to the upper floors. 

"She does look Italian." Travis chimed in, his deep voice breaking through as he stirred a pot on the stove. Travis was one of the mansion’s cooks, a quiet yet observant man who had seen enough in this household to read between the lines.

"She’s probably sad because of the situation she’s in. I mean, think about it—who knows how she ended up meeting the Don or if she even *wants* to be here." 

Zoya nodded quickly, lowering her voice. "You heard the commotion last night during dinner. It didn’t sound like she’s here by choice." 

"Exactly." Travis shrugged, focusing on the dish he was preparing. "But give her time. Sometimes people just need time to adjust. Who knows? Maybe she’ll find her place here eventually." 

"I hope so." Alina murmured, concern flickering in her brown eyes. 

With that, Travis finished plating the meal, arranging it neatly before handing it to Alina. She placed the dishes on the food trolley, her movements swift and practiced.

As she was about to push the cart toward the dining room, she suddenly froze, her eyes widening. 

"Alina? What’s wrong?" Zoya asked, following her gaze. 

Standing in the doorway was Xena, her frame silhouetted against the soft morning light streaming into the kitchen.

She looked slightly awkward, her hands fidgeting at her sides. She was wearing another one of Viktor’s oversized shirts, paired with sweatpants she must have found in his wardrobe.

The casual attire somehow only emphasized her natural beauty, her disheveled hair and bare face making her seem more vulnerable. 

Travis and Zoya turned their heads, following Alina’s line of sight. All three of them grew quiet, unsure of what to say. 

"Um... hi." Xena said finally, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, her awkwardness palpable. 

Zoya, ever the friendly one, immediately smiled and stepped forward.

"Madam... We were just about to bring your meal to the dining room." 

Xena glanced at the food trolley and then at the three pairs of eyes staring at her. She suddenly felt self-conscious under their gaze.

"I-I.I. um.. thank you." she mumbled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

Alina hesitated before stepping closer, her smile warm but cautious.

"We didn’t mean to disturb you. We were just... chatting." 

"Chatting about me, it seems." Xena said, raising an eyebrow, though her tone wasn’t accusatory. 

Zoya’s cheeks turned pink, and she quickly shook her head. "Oh, no! We were just saying how beautiful you are and—" 

"Zoya." Alina cut in gently, giving her friend a look that said *stop talking*. 

Travis cleared his throat, sensing the awkwardness. "It’s good to see you up and about, madam. The dishes are ready if you’re hungry." 

Xena’s stomach betrayed her with a soft grumble, and she bit her lip in embarrassment. "I... yes, I am hungry." she admitted. 

"Then let us serve you." Zoya said brightly, pushing the trolley toward the dining area. 

As they moved, Xena followed them, her mind swirling. She couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in this world.

But their kindness, even if it was tinged with fear of Viktor, brought a small, hesitant sense of comfort. 

For now, she would eat and gather her strength. She needed to figure out her next move, but until then, she’d navigate this strange, gilded prison with as much grace as she could muster.

♧♧♧

"Thank you... um, sorry, what are your names again? I forgot." Xena said softly, her voice tinged with embarrassment as she placed the napkin down after finishing her meal. 

Zoya giggled, her cheerful demeanor instantly making the atmosphere lighter.

"No problem, madam. My name is Zoya, and this is Alina." she said, motioning toward her friend, who gave Xena a shy smile. 

"Okay, well, my name is Xena. Please, call me that—not ‘madam’" Xena said, her tone warm and inviting. 

The girls exchanged a look, clearly unsure. Alina hesitated, glancing around nervously as if someone might overhear. 

"I know your... boss wouldn’t like that." Xena added, noticing their hesitation. "But we can be friends, right? And friends call each other by their names. Isn’t that how it works?" 

Zoya blinked in surprise, her smile faltering for a moment as she processed Xena’s words. Alina’s eyes widened slightly, clearly caught off guard.

To them, Xena had seemed distant and reserved yesterday—and even earlier this morning. But now, she was reaching out to them, breaking down the invisible wall they thought she had built around herself. 

A slow, genuine smile spread across Zoya’s face. "Okay... Xena." she said, testing the name like it was forbidden fruit. 

"Xena." Alina echoed, nodding with a small grin. 

They began clearing the table, stacking the empty plates and glasses. Xena stood up, ready to help, but Zoya immediately stopped her, waving her hands frantically. 

"Please, no! We can’t let you do that." Zoya said, her voice filled with genuine concern. 

Xena frowned in confusion. "Why not? It’s just dishes—" 

"We’re already risking our lives calling you by your name." Zoya interrupted, her cheerful tone replaced by a nervous edge. "But if the Don finds out we let you lift a finger, it’ll cost us more than just our jobs—it could cost us our lives." 

Alina nodded in agreement, her expression deadly serious. "The Don... he’s very particular about you, Xena. He’d never forgive us if he thought we didn’t take care of you properly." 

Xena’s eyes widened in shock. She had known Viktor was possessive, but hearing it from the staff made it feel even more suffocating. She quickly dropped her hands and took a step back. "I... I understand." she said quietly, guilt creeping into her voice. 

The girls relaxed slightly, relieved that she wasn’t going to argue.

They smiled at her again before turning their attention back to their task, efficiently clearing the dining table and carrying the dishes back to the kitchen. 

Left alone in the dining room, Xena let out a heavy sigh.

The weight of her new reality pressed down on her. She glanced around the luxurious space, its opulence doing little to comfort her. 

She pushed herself up from the chair and slowly made her way back upstairs to Viktor’s room. It wasn’t hers—she refused to think of it as hers—but for now, it was the only place she could retreat to. 

As she entered the room, her chest tightened. She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the duvet.

"I miss you, Nana." she whispered, her voice cracking. The silence of the room seemed to mock her. 

She didn’t even have a phone to call her Nana or her best friend. She felt utterly isolated, cut off from the world she knew.

Xena leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling as tears pricked her eyes. 

Her mind wandered to her small, cozy home back in Italy, the familiar scent of her Nana’s cooking wafting through the air, and the sound of her best friend’s laughter echoing during their late-night talks.

That world felt so far away now, almost like a dream she had woken from too soon. 

"How did I end up here?" she whispered to herself, wrapping her arms around her knees. 

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, lost in thought. All she knew was that the ache in her chest wasn’t going away.

For now, she would wait. She had to figure out a way to survive this... and maybe, just maybe, find a way back to the life she left behind.