Chapter 36 Frustration

Chapter 36 Frustration

Marilyn's POV

“Scrubbing, wiping, kneeling, standing… I didn’t even rest once.” I swallowed hard, fighting the tears threatening to fall.

“And now they say I don’t deserve to eat. They say I should sleep hungry because I ‘messed up’ a room I cleaned with my whole body.”

My words started coming faster now, like I'd been holding them in for too long. “Do you know how it feels to work all day with an empty stomach?” I asked, my voice rising.

Lucian didn't speak. He just maintained that calm, collected expression as if all what I was saying was nothing more than mere mouse to him.

I didn't care about the stupid or nonchalant expression on his face, I was certain I was making a point that alone kept me going.

“Do you know how it feels to be treated like you’re nothing? Like you don’t even deserve food?” My eyes were now burning as I stared at him.

I let out a dry scoff, a bitter one. “That woman hates me, you know. Tessa looks for reasons to punish me. She enjoys it.” My voice trembled badly now, but I refused to cry. “I’m tired. I’m so tired I feel like collapsing. But no one cares. No one ever does.”

My throat tightened as my voice dropped, rough and shaky. “I’m not a machine,” I whispered softly as if I was finally giving up on the tiny little hope I've been holding onto. “I’m human. I get tired. I get hungry. I feel pain.”

I blinked rapidly, my lashes wet. “I wanted to cry back there. I wanted to fall on the floor and cry like a child.” I laughed bitterly again, shaking my head like I regret every single paragraph of my life. “But I didn’t. Because crying doesn’t change anything here.” My voice was breaking now, every word sounding like it took effort to say. Anyone could hear and tell that I was standing right at the edge of breaking down.

Slowly, Lucian’s expression eventually changed.

The shock that was first etched on his face, slowly turning to nonchalance, had now faded—replaced by something softer, something unreadable.

His shoulders suddenly relaxed a little.

His eyes dropped down and he looked at my hands again, then back at my face. After a moment, he spoke calmly. “Pick up your mopping stick,” he said quietly. “Go and take a rest.”

I froze at once.

He continued again, “You’ll eat dinner. I’ll make sure of it.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

I swallowed hard.

I didn't expect it to come this easily.

Why do I feel like this isn't right?

Could it be that he's trying to set me up?

Though the tears were still there lingering just very closely behind my eyes, threatening, but I forced them back again.

I didn’t say a word. I was too stunned to even speak.

Slowly and carefully, I bent down to pick up my mop, my movements tired and heavy.

I turned around, ready to leave, ready to escape the room before I broke down completely—or before he changed his mind and decided to kill me instead.

But just as I was about to walk out, everything happened too fast.

Lucian suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind.

I gasped as he spun me around roughly and pushed me backward.

Before I could react, I'd already lost balance and fell onto his bed. The mattress dipped beneath my weight.

In the next second, Lucian had already dropped himself on top of me, his body pinning me down like he would take me by force.

My eyes widened in shock, fear rushing through me like ice.

He covered my mouth quickly with his palm, silencing me before I could even think of screaming.

He leaned down close, his lips near my ear.

His voice suddenly ran low, cold, and sharp. “I know everything you’re doing, Riley” he whispered. “Every move. Every little act.” My heart pounded violently as his warm breath brushed the back of my ear, tickling the nerves out of me.

“But I want you to know this,” he continued, his tone cruel. “You have no place in my heart anymore. None.” His grip tightened slightly around my wrist as he pinned both of my hands against the bed just above my head.

“Stop trying to get close to me. Stop whatever foolish hope you’re holding onto. Because the more you try, the more I’ll despise you.

And with that, he suddenly pulled away and l stood up from on top of me. “Get out,” he said flatly.

I felt too tired to even move.

He'd handled me so roughly that I couldn't even lift myself up from the bed.

The way he grabbed me and spun me around before throwing me on the bed made my eyes spin.

I was frozen, shocked, and my heart wouldn't stop beating fast.

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, to say anything but before I could even utter a word, Lucian suddenly yelled, “Get out,” he repeated sharply. “Don’t say a word. Leave my room. Now.” he commanded with finality in his tone.

My legs trembled as I struggled to lift myself up from the bed.

I sat up and remained seated for a few seconds as if I was planning my next move, then I bent down and grabbed the mopping stick from the floor.

I didn’t look at him again.

I just stood up at once and rushed out of the room, my chest tight, and my vision blurry.

I stepped out and slammed the door loudly behind me, the sound echoing through the hallway as I ran away.

That's enough for the day.

I was heading back to my tiny room, like an abandoned store, ready to sleep for the night.

I wasn’t really counting on getting any food tonight, but one thing was for sure… I had to survive long enough to deal with Lucian and watch him lose everything to the woman he was crazily mistaking for his ex-lover.

I got to my room, slammed the door open, stepped inside, and collapsed onto the bed. I had totally forgotten that it was an iron bunk, and the mattress on it was barely thick enough—worn out and old—so I hit my head on the hard iron.

I let out a sharp cry and grabbed my aching head immediately.

“Fuck!” I cursed.