Trapped in a Life That Wasn't Mine
Illegitimate child...
That truth, sharp, cruel, and always buried stabbed me again. The label tore at my self-worth.
Ashton stood, flashing a crooked smile. He took a step closer. I froze, second-guessing my decision. Was it really a good idea to take a job as a cook in this grand estate? Something was off. Especially now that he had mentioned my “status.”
Each step he took made my heart race faster. There was a kind of fear rising in me, mixed with a reluctant awe at his tall, broad figure and flawless face.
“You won’t be working as a cook. You’re a princess, David Taylor’s daughter who’s been living a miserable life in a tiny town. So I gave you the room you deserve.”
I tilted my head to meet his eyes. I barely reached his chest.
“I don’t understand. How do you know my background? Don’t tell me... my mother told you?” I frowned. I was nervous. Deep down, I feared for my safety. I was just a small-town girl who spent her days working and her nights watching TV and eating sandwiches. I didn’t have many friends—actually, just one.
Ashton gave a crooked smile. Sinister. Calculated. His eyes scanned me from head to toe.
“You don’t need to know where I got the information. It’s easy for me to dig up anything about David Taylor, no matter how well it’s hidden from the media.”
There was something dangerous behind those words. I couldn’t stay here.
“Send me back to Kansas.” I stared him down. I couldn’t believe how trying something new had turned into something this twisted.
He looked startled. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm and threw me onto the bed.
Ashton pinned me down, hovering above me with only a narrow space between our bodies. He still had enough decency to leave room for me to breathe. He held both my wrists tightly. I was terrified. I struggled, but he was too strong. All I could do was gasp, as he ordered.
“Stay still! The more you fight, the harder it’ll be to keep you safe!”
My face must’ve gone pale. My eyes blurred, but I refused to let a single tear fall.
“You want to kill me? Go ahead. No one would mourn me, not even David Taylor. I’ve never even met him. If you think you can use me as a weapon against him, you’re wrong. He doesn’t care. He never did.”
Ashton’s face gave nothing away. I knew I had to soften—maybe not to save my life, but to protect my dignity. I wouldn’t let him touch me.
“Killing someone like me won’t gain you anything. I’d even thank you. I once tried to end my life. Failed, obviously.”
I wasn’t fishing for sympathy. The pressure made the dam burst. I had never shared this with anyone. I had once slashed my own wrist, only for my mother to find me. I thought she’d stop calling me a curse after that. I was wrong. To this day, I carried the weight of believing I was unwanted.
Ashton loosened his grip. He studied me, searching for any sign I was lying.
We stared at each other for what felt like forever, until he finally spoke.
“I have a bigger plan. And I need your help. So stay. You’ll be guarded closely. I’m also taking your phone. There’s no way you’re running.”
He stood.
I stayed frozen, overwhelmed by the fear and dread still hanging over me. I tried to stay calm. He disappeared behind the door.
And I laughed at myself. At my foolishness. Why did I let myself end up here? I wasn’t afraid of dying. I was only afraid he’d violate me. I had no idea what this “big plan” of his was or why I had to be part of it.
This morning, I woke up feeling like I had landed on another planet. The thin mattress I was used to had been replaced with something luxuriously soft and wide enough to fit three of me.
Just yesterday, I got up before sunrise, cooked breakfast, and fed myself. Today, I opened my eyes to a woman in uniform entering the room with clothes and toiletries. She asked me to take a shower, get dressed, and come downstairs for breakfast with Ashton.
For a moment, I just sat there. What has happened to my life?
I bathed in a bathroom larger than my old bedroom, surrounded by elegant marble and rows of soaps and shampoos, each scented differently.
After the bath, I put on the clothes I had brought from home. The outfit prepared for me, some soft designer lounge dress meant for rich girls sipping tea in sunlit patios just didn’t feel like me. And I knew it wasn’t cheap.
A man I assumed was my bodyguard escorted me to the dining room. Ashton was already seated, dressed neatly in a crisp shirt. His cold eyes flicked up at me, unreadable as ever. I glanced down at my casual outfit, just a T-shirt and jeans and I knew what his stare meant: judgment.
“Why didn’t you wear the dress provided?” he asked as soon as I took my seat.
“I wasn’t comfortable. I brought my own clothes,” I replied as calmly as I could, though I could feel his displeasure radiating off him.
His tone sharpened. “My staff will provide you with clothes appropriate for you. Your old ones will be discarded. I don’t appreciate defiance, so I suggest you follow my instructions.”
I scowled. His arrogance grated on my nerves. Was this how rich people always acted, controlling, entitled, and used to getting their way?
“Do you always order people around like they’re pawns?” I asked, meeting his gaze. His face remained emotionless, and his eyes pinned me in place like I was under a microscope.
“Plenty of women would kill to be in your position. Sitting here, having breakfast with me, fully cared for. You should be grateful I didn’t leave you sleeping in a storage room or out on the street last night.”
I froze. He truly believed the world owed him everything. Maybe he was born to dominate others.
“Eat,” he said. “We’ll talk after.”
He took a sip of milk. I didn’t ask what kind.
I glanced at the table. It was overflowing with breakfast items: scrambled eggs, omelets, pancakes, toast, oatmeal, smoothies... Far too much for just two people. I reached for the pancakes. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed energy if I was going to survive this place, or escape it.
Then, a boy entered the room. He smiled brightly and climbed onto Ashton’s lap. For the first time, the ice melted from Ashton’s face, replaced with the warmest, most genuine smile I’d seen.
“Daddy, last night I read an encyclopedia about astronomy. Is a black hole really real? What would happen if Earth fell into one?”
I stared. Daddy?
Ashton had a child?