Flora's POV
I woke up feeling oddly calm, as though the storm brewing in my life had momentarily stilled. The faint morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. But the serenity shattered the moment I turned my head.
Eve was lying beside me, propped on one elbow, her dark eyes intently watching me.
I bolted upright, my heart racing. “How long have you been here?” I demanded, my voice tinged with panic.
She smiled serenely, tilting her head as though amused by my reaction. “Long enough,” she replied smoothly. “You sleep like a baby, you know. So peaceful. And you’re even more beautiful when you’re sleeping.”
Her words unsettled me, and I felt a fresh wave of confusion. Why was she here? What was she trying to achieve?
Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Lucian strode in, his expression smug and self-satisfied. His sharp suit emphasized his commanding presence, and I couldn’t miss the gleam of amusement in his eyes as he took in the scene before him.
“Good morning, my ladies,” he said cheerfully, his voice dripping with charm.
Eve sat up but remained perched on the bed, her posture graceful and unbothered. Meanwhile, I was trying to piece together the puzzle of her presence in my room.
Lucian’s smile widened as he gestured toward Eve. “Flora, allow me to officially introduce you to my first wife, Eve.”
The words hit me like a sledgehammer. I stared at Eve, my mouth slightly agape. First wife?
Lucian continued, seemingly enjoying my shock. “Eve has been by my side for years, long before the others.”
The others. His casual acknowledgment of his multiple wives made my stomach churn. I felt like an outsider in a twisted world I couldn’t escape from.
Eve, however, seemed entirely at ease. She turned to me, her smile warm but laced with something I couldn’t quite place. “I’m sure you have questions,” she said, her tone almost teasing. “Yes, Lucian has other wives, and yes, you were his mistress. But don’t worry. None of us lacks for anything.”
I gaped at her, struggling to comprehend how she could speak so calmly about sharing her husband. The idea of being a mistress suddenly felt even more suffocating.
Eve leaned forward slightly, her gaze piercing. “In fact, we’d like to invite you to join us. You’ll find that life here is... comfortable. There’s no need to run, Flora. Everything you need is within these walls.”
Her words were smooth, almost hypnotic, but I couldn’t shake the unease coiling in my stomach. Before I could respond, my eyes darted to the doorway, where Jonathan stood, his face unreadable.
Our eyes met, and he gave me a small nod, his expression silently urging me to agree. It was as if he was trying to communicate that resistance wasn’t an option right now.
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Okay,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “What do you want to do today?”
Eve’s smile broadened, and she clapped her hands together. “For starters, we’ll have breakfast,” she said. “And then we’ll go shopping. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
I didn’t trust her words, but I forced myself to nod.
\---
Breakfast was a strange affair.
Lucian presided at the head of the long dining table, his presence commanding as ever. Eve sat beside him, radiating elegance and confidence. On the opposite side of the table were two other women, whom I quickly realized were also his wives.
The room was alive with activity. Lucian’s children—three sons and two daughters—chattered among themselves, their voices mingling with the clinking of cutlery.
I tried to remain inconspicuous as I served breakfast, my hands trembling slightly as I placed dishes on the table. Eve’s eyes followed my every move, her gaze assessing but not unkind.
When I finally took a seat, I felt like an intruder in their familial routine. The children occasionally glanced at me with curiosity, but no one said anything outright.
Lucian, however, seemed determined to include me. He leaned back in his chair, a glass of orange juice in hand, and addressed me directly. “So, Flora, are you settling in well?”
I forced a smile. “It’s... an adjustment,” I replied carefully.
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’ll find your place soon enough. This family has a way of growing on you.”
I wasn’t so sure.
Toward the end of breakfast, as the conversation lulled, one of Lucian’s sons stood to clear his plate. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with the same piercing eyes as his father.
But as he neared the kitchen, something strange happened. His steps faltered, and he swayed slightly.
“Are you alright?” one of the daughters asked, concern lacing her voice.
Before anyone could react, the young man collapsed to the floor.
Panic erupted around the table.
“Call a doctor!” Lucian barked, his voice sharp and commanding.
Eve was already kneeling beside the boy, her hands on his chest as she tried to rouse him. The other wives and children clustered around, their faces pale with fear.
I stayed rooted to my chair, my heart pounding as I watched the chaos unfold.
Minutes later, a doctor arrived, his medical bag in hand. He examined the boy quickly, his expression grim.
“This isn’t a fainting spell,” the doctor announced. “He’s been poisoned.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over us like a heavy cloud.
The murmurs started softly at first, like a faint buzz at the edges of the room. The doctor’s grim pronouncement hung in the air, and everyone seemed frozen in place, unsure how to react. Then, the whispers began to spread like wildfire.
“It must have been the food…” one of the daughters muttered, glancing nervously at her plate.
“I saw Flora in the kitchen earlier,” another voice chimed in, low but sharp enough to carry.
Eve, still crouched beside the unconscious boy, tilted her head slightly, her eyes flicking to me. Her expression was unreadable, but the tension in her posture was unmistakable.
Lucian’s gaze sharpened, his commanding presence filling the room like a thundercloud. “Enough,” he growled, his voice slicing through the rising whispers. But the damage was already done. The accusing stares now fixated on me.
“I… I didn’t do anything,” I stammered, my voice trembling. My hands shook as I clutched the edge of the table. “I only followed the cook’s instructions. I didn’t even prepare the main dishes!”
Eve stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust from her dress. Her face was calm, but her eyes carried a flicker of something dangerous. “No one is accusing you directly, Flora,” she said, her voice deceptively soothing. “But it’s… peculiar, don’t you think? A newcomer in the kitchen, and now this?”
The weight of her words pressed down on me, and I felt the room close in. Jonathan, standing silently at the doorway, gave me a fleeting look of concern, but he didn’t step in.
“I didn’t poison anyone!” I said, louder this time, trying to steady my voice. “You have to believe me.”
Lucian raised a hand, silencing the growing chatter. His eyes bore into mine, cold and assessing. “We’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said evenly. “But until then, you’re not to leave this house. Do you understand?”
I nodded mutely, my throat tight with fear and frustration. The walls of the mansion, already suffocating, now felt like a cage.
As the doctor worked to stabilize the boy, the others resumed their whispers, their gazes lingering on me like a shadow. I clenched my fists under the table, determined to prove my innocence. But deep down, I knew the storm was far from over.