Chapter 29: Twisted love

This man was downstairs dancing, and all of a sudden, he started laughing maniacally. The sound echoed through the house, growing louder and louder. I froze in the bedroom, listening. He laughed like something in him had snapped, and I found myself whispering, “Why did this crazy person even notice me? He’s such a weirdo.” I shook my head and sighed. I would ask myself why he would avoid answering any questions about himself or his whereabouts, always dodging and smiling like it’s a game. Weirdo And everyone around him enables him. Good heavens, what’s wrong with people?

I walked toward the window, staring down at the garden, trying to steady my thoughts. He was still downstairs, and the music had switched to something slow and old, a love song that made the entire moment feel wrong, like beauty placed in a cage.

I whispered to myself, “He’s too quiet now.” Then I heard footsteps, the soft murmur of a man’s voice. Someone had entered the house. I leaned against the wall, holding my breath.

“I want you to watch Sean,” Michael’s voice floated up faintly, deep and steady, with that controlling tone he always used. “And everyone who was in the hospital with her. I want their movements tracked, every detail. You report everything to me.”

The man replied, “Understood, sir.”

“Don’t make mistakes,” Michael added. “I don’t forgive them.”

The front door opened and shut again. Silence followed, except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. I exhaled, shaking slightly. I was trapped in this house with a man who planned like a general preparing for war, and I was the prize.

A few minutes later, I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs. I hurried to sit on the edge of the bed, pretending I hadn’t heard a thing. The door opened slowly. He walked in holding a tray of food, eyes fixed on me.

“Eat,” he said quietly.

“I’m not hungry,” I whispered.

He set the tray on the table beside me. “Don’t make me beg you, Rose.”

I looked at him, then at the food. “I’ll eat,” I said softly, and started. My hands trembled slightly, the fork clinking against the plate. He watched every movement, saying nothing. His eyes followed me like a shadow.

When I finished, I set the fork down. “Happy now?” I asked, trying to sound calm.

He tilted his head. “You’re angry with me.”

“I’m tired,” I said.

He smiled faintly. “You should rest then.”

Before I could respond, footsteps echoed again downstairs. He frowned. “Who is that?” he muttered and left the room. I stood quickly, going to the door, pressing my ear against it. I could hear the maid’s voice “Sir, someone is here to see you” and then another, sharper voice that cut through the air.

“Move, child. I know where I’m going.”

My stomach dropped at the tone.

Michael’s voice followed, low and irritated. “Mother, you can’t just walk in here.”

Her reply came strong and cold. “Oh, so this is where you’ve been hiding? Playing house with that cheap little thing upstairs?”

My breath caught. I stepped back, heart pounding.

A few seconds later, the door burst open and an older woman stepped in, her perfume filling the air before her words did. She wore a tailored coat and too many rings, her face sharp and lined with years of entitlement.

She looked me over, sneering. “So, you’re the one.”

I blinked, forcing composure. “Good afternoon, ma’am.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Spare me the manners. I asked your name.”

“Rose,” I said simply.

“Rose,” she repeated, her tone dripping with mockery. “Pretty name. Not very fitting for someone who’s managed to bring chaos into my son’s life.”

Michael walked in behind her, his jaw tight. “Mother, that’s enough.”

She turned to him, glaring. “You’ve lost your mind. You’ve shut yourself away in this house with her, ignoring your responsibilities, your family and your company. What spell has she cast on you?”

I looked down, choosing silence over a fight.

Michael stepped closer to his mother. “You’re not welcome here.”

Her laugh was dry. “You’re embarrassing yourself. You’re a Halloran, for heaven’s sake. And this” she gestured at me with disdain “is what you choose?”

“Mother, leave,” he said sharply.

“Oh, I’m not done.” She took a step toward me. “You think you can manipulate him with those eyes? You think this will last?”

I looked straight at her, forcing a polite smile. “I think you’ve made your opinion clear.”

Her face darkened. “You little... ”

“Enough,” Michael snapped, stepping between us. “You will not speak to her like that.”

She scoffed. “You’re defending her now? She’s a distraction. She’s nothing.”

“Don’t,” he warned.

She ignored him. “I’ve already found a proper match for you, someone from a good family, someone who understands our world. Not this... this stray you dragged home.”

I almost laughed but held it in.

Michael rubbed his temples. “Mother, please go.”

She huffed, glaring at both of us. “You’re wasting your life, Michael. I want a grandchild from a woman who carries herself with dignity, not from some gutter”

“That’s enough,” he snapped, louder now. “Leave, before I lose my patience.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. She stared at him, disbelief clouding her face, then gave me one last venomous look.

“You’ll regret this,” she said finally. “Both of you.”

She turned, slamming the door on her way out. The walls seemed to tremble with the impact.

Michael stood there for a while, breathing heavily.

“She doesn’t understand,” he said quietly. “She never does.”

I nodded slightly. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he murmured, walking closer. “I hate when people upset you.”

“I’m not upset,”

He smiled faintly. “You’re trembling.”

“I’m cold.”

He reached to touch my arm. “You’ll get used to her eventually.”

I stayed quiet.

He walked to the dresser, pulling out something small, a velvet box. He held it in his hand for a moment, then looked at me. “Do you know why I keep you here?”

I hesitated. “No?”

He laughed lightly, “Because I love you.”

I just stared at him.

He walked closer. “ when you walked into my life, everything changed. You looked at me like I wasn’t invisible. ”

“What?”

“Michael…” I began, but he interrupted.

“I waited years,” he said softly. “And now you’re here. You belong here.”

He sighed. “You’ll understand soon.”

He turned to leave the room, but stopped at the door. “I’ll have dinner brought up later. Don’t try anything stupid.”

When the door closed, I rushed to the window, pulling at the latch. Locked. The glass was thick, reinforced. Outside, I saw the butler standing guard, glancing up at my window as if he already knew what I was thinking. The other guards were patrolling near the gate, rifles slung across their shoulders. There was no way out.

I sat on the floor hugging my knees, the sound of his laughter still echoing faintly from downstairs.

The walls felt smaller every hour I stayed here, and even the air had that sterile, suffocating stillness.