Chapter 5 Trapped - Maya's POV
It only takes us a few minutes to pack the car and get inside. I look back at the house, knowing that I’m leaving my entire life behind and try not to cry.
The driver doesn’t say much to me the entire way to Mr. Blackwood’s estate.
By the time the car pulls up to the imposing place that looms ahead like some dark sentinel in the darkness, I am scared out of my wits. The gates open with an almost eerie smoothness, and I can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding as we pass through.
The surrounding estate is perfectly manicured, from what I can see, with everything in its own place and the gardens are neatly trimmed. At least in the darkness.
All of it screams control, just like the man who owns the place and now me.
I swallow hard, fighting the unease creeping up my spine as we pull up to the front of the mansion. The car comes to a stop, and the man who has remained silent this entire time gets out and comes around to open the door for me.
I step outside of the car and nearly fall to the ground because of my weak knees. He goes to the back without helping me up and starts unloading my bags out of the back of the car.
The front doors to the sprawling mansion open as if they are welcoming me into the belly of the beast.
I get up and take both of my bags to head up the stone steps.
Inside the mansion, the air is cool and smells faintly of cedarwood and something else. Possibly leather. My tennis shoes make soft thuds against the marble floor as I walk down the hallway a little way.
The man who drove me here comes inside and finds me gawking. He motions with one hand and I follow him to a set of double doors down the hallway.
Then he pauses and opens one slightly, motioning for me to enter.
I step inside, my heart thudding loudly in my ears. The room is dimly lit with some fixtures on the wall. There are two large bookcases behind a cherry wood desk. Everything is dark in color.
Just as I’m about to say something, a man walks into the room from a door on the left. His presence is immediately commanding, though his movements are calm.
When he turns to face me, my heart nearly stops in my chest. It is the same man who had come earlier, the one with the sharp amber eyes and the casual smirk. He is still dressed in the suit from earlier and his eyes study me with a sharpness that makes me feel like an insect under a magnifying glass.
He gives me one long look up and down, his gaze cold and assessing, as if he is weighing something - something I don’t want to be a part of.
Before I can say anything, the knot in my chest tightens, and the tears that I’ve held back suddenly spill. I can’t hold them back anymore. The nervousness and the anxiety are too much for me.
I can’t breathe nor can I think. I feel utterly exposed, like I am in a dream I can’t wake from.
As I turn to face away from him, I’m unable to stop the sob that breaks free. My emotions feel raw like a twisted knot of fear, frustration, and desperation.
“So, you are Damian Blackwood, I presume?” I ask, my voice cracking and my hands trembling at my sides.
Slowly, I force myself to look back at him, hoping that somehow seeing his face will make this all feel unreal.
His eyes soften for a fraction of a second, but it is gone before I can truly process it. He gives me one single curt nod, his gaze never leaving mine. There is no warmth in it, and definitely no sense of comfort. Only cold, hard calculations.
I begin trembling even harder, and that is when Damian seems to notice the panic seizing me. For the first time since I entered, his expression shifts. It isn’t out of pity, but something close to it.
More like something hard and distant.
He turns away from me and turns back to the door he had entered through. “Get her,” he commands coldly.
I freeze, not fully understanding what he means at first. But then the door behind me opens, and a small figure steps inside. She is a short, old woman, who appears to be in her seventies, though I can’t be too sure.
“Maya,” Damian says again as he stops at the door. “You’ll need to calm down. This isn’t going to help you or anyone around you.”
The woman crosses the room quickly, coming to stand beside me, and takes one of my hands in hers.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she says in a soft, reassuring voice. “Come with me.”
Her voice is a stark contrast to the coldness of Damian’s command, and I find myself swallowing a sob at the touch of her hand, even as I try to pull away from everything.
But the woman is insistent, her touch warm and grounded, and for a moment, I feel the smallest bit of comfort amidst the chaos.
I nod, too exhausted to fight anymore and allow her to gently guide me away from the room.
And away from Damian’s harsh gaze.
As she pulls me down the hallway, the soft patter of her shoes on the polished floors is the only sound breaking the silence. She takes one of the handles of my suitcase without hesitation while I clutch onto my bag.
“You really don’t have to do that,” I say, worried that the bag will be too heavy for her, especially given her age.
She only chuckles, her voice warm but carrying a certain playfulness. “This is nothing, dear. It is as light as a feather.”
I find it odd that she would think it is so light, considering how much I have packed in it, but I say nothing. She rolls it effortlessly, her steps steady and sure, as if it is no trouble at all.
Or weighs nothing.
Despite the weight, her movements are graceful, her energy surprisingly strong. It almost feels like she isn’t as frail as she appears and I find myself watching her, trying to make sense of everything.
She glances back at me, her expression calm. “Don’t worry, child. We’ll get you settled in just fine and then you can rest.”
I nod, still unsure of what to say. Her presence is a comfort in its own quiet way, yet it doesn’t erase the gnawing unease twisting in my stomach. The vast mansion around us feels even more imposing now that I know what is inside, and with every step I take, the reality of my situation is sinking deeper.
I am really trapped here, and I’m sure I’ll never escape it either.